Mr. Khan showed promptly and punctual at Rivera Shoes the next day for his fitting (and Héctor Rivera was cheering to himself at all of his cleverness. He didn't even have a pronounced limp to ruin this disguise straight off). A woman he didn't recognize-but then not surprising, he was very out of touch with the family, and fixing that-opened the door. "Oh Mr. Khan! So nice to meet you, I'm Rosita, do come in", she gestured him inside.

With what looked to be a very refined bow and nod in one, Mr. Khan did so. Rosita shut the door as her guest glanced around, seemingly just curious, but in fact taking in every inch of the house he hadn't, as of yet, been allowed inside of. His current hostess then lead the way from the main workshop room to a side room that seemed to act as a parlor.

"Do have a seat", Rosita said, gesturing to what looked like one of their best chairs, "Mrs. Rivera is in the back room, and will be right out; I'll go tell her you're here and see about getting refreshments". Héctor, or Mr. Khan, nodded his thanks, and was just wondering on his manners, when Rosita went on, as if having read his mind.

"Oh, and no worries, Mrs. Rivera told us about you saving your voice, it must be wonderfully exciting! Being an actor! We don't normally host performers", Rosita half-gushed before disappearing in a rush of skirts into the back. If this went poorly they would even more so never again... Héctor mused.

"Are you sure you're alright, Imelda?", Oscar asked, peering at his sister from between his own work. She had made a slight error in the curve of cutting cloth. Not for their performer's shoes, yet, but just into strips of usability. Imelda gave a hum as she glanced up, and then clicked her tongue at herself.

"Yes, fine...and, oh I don't know...there is something about all of this that unsettles me", she confessed.

"Well, this is the the first accepted order from a performer in a while", Felipe supplied an answer, carefully.

"It's not that...", Imelda shook her head, "It's...well, again, I don't know, only...". Something she should be very aware of, some...reason she should never have taken this job, that...if she hadn't repressed memories she would know by now. Of course Imelda didn't realize all of this behind her feeling, if she did, she would have known exactly what the problem was and would be taking steps to correct.

She should be able to recognize her husband, disguise or no!

Yet, Imelda couldn't. She had forgotten about so much of how he was, about how...good a performer he could be if he had to. Never to her, and that was part of the problem. Imelda had seen it, but never been given it. Héctor reserved it for the man asking about the bills, even in his fake answers and dodging, or the angry neighbor who claimed they had made too much noise with their dancing and playing in the courtyard last night.

If Imelda could have recalled Héctor's disbelieving, charming answer to that, she might have never doubted him in the first place. Making noise! How could those two pairs of beautiful feet such as his girls had make anything that anyone would ever tire of hearing, let alone when 'his vida' sung...

Never-mind most of the complaint had been against him. Gritos were reserved for daylight hours after all, as she had laughingly tried to tell him at the time.

But Imelda had forgotten all of this, and only knew something bothered her. She chalked it up to not wanting to work with a performer, as her brother suggested. Rosita then came in to announce that their newest client was here. Imelda sighed, "The actor only need to be here a few days...", she told herself. Hopefully this didn't turn into an entire string of artist type clientele!

Still wondering, though she sort of knew, why she hadn't refused the order directly, Imelda made her way out to the parlor type room (or what they used for such) of their home and shop. "Mr. Khan, so sorry for the wait, greetings again", this time Imelda did the favor of extending her hand for a light shake. She forgot (and didn't know truly!) what she dealt with. The actor inclined his head politely, still choosing not to speak, and then gave her hand a light, polite kiss, and while that was not extended out too much, when he was done, he did not then release her hand as was proper!

Imelda had to slightly remove her hand from his grip herself, and a light frown creased her features, though she then smiled and strove to not show it. "Well come on in the shop and we'll get you measured". Her client did such, perching on the stool she indicated. Oscar and Felipe, already in the shop, both bent and took up a foot each.

Héctor Rivera had...borrowed a neighbor's foot (he was sleeping off a hangover and would not need it for a whole day!)...and Chicharrón's femur for connecting purposes...but had only done such for one side. The other foot was his own...and either twin was sure to notice that! Well...Imelda would straight off...so good thing her brothers were doing the measuring.

They were both the same size foot of course (since the shoe size had not raised any alarms) and he had been hard pressed to find a neighbor, in Shantytown no less, with the exact same size foot! He should be rewarded for such cleverness by not...being almost found out, as he felt he was! Mr. Khan appeared cool and collected, but studied Felipe, who held the tell-tale foot! Yet when the twins sat back, neither face looked suspicious.

Though, again, if they knew they would play along! Not that Héctor honestly thought they did. The two just scribbled and handed their measurements over to Imelda who studied them and then glanced back up to her client. Héctor almost shrank inside his costume with that look, and the fear that she saw too much.

He did not think his wife was a push over. Far from it! He quickly scribbled his own message, something about times that worked or didn't for her, and handed it over. Imelda read the note, then answered simply, "Thank-you Mr. Khan, come back next Tuesday". And that was that, and all of his reasons for tarrying here. A few mintues a week was more than what he had before though, and there was always pushing his luck with other disguises...

Héctor knew he probably shouldn't push that far, not yet, and so Mr. Khan just nodded graciously again (and more gracefully) and stood to take his leave. He extended a hand once more, hoping she would take it...but Imelda just glanced from his hand to him and rather than push it this close even, when she could notice something, the skeleton put his fancy borrowed slippers back on and took his leave.

A/N: I wasn't going to include Chicharrón's femur, or give an answer to a story that actually doesn't need one and may be better off a mystery, but then it proved half useful so... :D