The next day was Saturday. That was good for Héctor because he didn't get enough sleep last night. Imelda had gotten up earlier to feed Coco, while her husband slept just for another peaceful hour.

"Wake up, you lazy bum!"

The musician groaned, knowing it was the voice of his cranky uncle that disturbed him.

"I'm tired…,"

He yelped when the old man splashed cold water over his head.

"Tío!"

"Just because you don't have work at the plaza today doesn't mean you can't help out with chores! Now get dressed, I need help in the stables!"

"Okay, okay."

After getting dressed, Hector ate a piece of bread and went to the stables. As much as he preferred to sleep in, he supposed it was a good idea that Chicharron had him working in the morning.

Feeding the pigs, the chickens, and horses kept his mind off last night. Anything to keep his mind off of Ernesto.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Mexico City, Ernesto and his band had just finished their performance at a nightclub. They had a decent crowd, about fifty people. Although Ernesto preferred a much bigger number than fifty, he and his band mates were still paid a good aim of money. Once they left the nightclub, Ernesto asked his songwriter, Molina if they had anymore shows.

"No, not for today," Molina answered.

"Bueno, now go back to the hotel and write me a new song while the boys and I do other things." He winked at the last word to Antonio and Gustavo. "Other things," was a secret code for them whenever they had to go and search for Imelda.

"What other things?" Molina frowned. "I think you and the boys should focus on practicing your current songs. Some of you were a bit flat there, especially you Ernesto."

"I sang well, I don't need any more practice!"

"But Ernesto-"

"Who is in charge here? Me or you?"

"You."

"Bueno, now go back to the hotel and write me a new song! And make sure it's a sexy love song!"

"Yes, your majesty," Molina grumbled, walking away.

"Now that Senor Molina is back at the hotel, let's go and look for my wife," Ernesto commanded.

The two men followed him, feeling a bit exasperated.

"But Ernesto, do you know how big this city is? It would take us forever to find her here!" Gustavo cried.

"We had searched at least six Pueblo villages before coming here," said Ernesto. "It would make sense for her to come here since this city is so big."

"What if she isn't in Mexico City?" Antonio questioned. "What if she was in Santa Cecilia?"

"Yes, let's go to Santa Cecilia!" Gustavo nodded.

Their band leader rolled his eyes. "Why do you two keep suggesting Santa Cecilia?"

"It's the only place we haven't shown off our singing talents!" Antonio answered.

"Oh please, we are not going there!" Ernesto scoffed. "I am too famous for Santa Cecilia."

"You are not that famous," Antonio said in a deadpan voice.

"Not yet," Ernesto said in a sing-song voice. "But I am getting close! Some folks had recognized me from previous bars and nightclubs so far!"

"Ah, all the more reason to go to Santa Cecilia!" Gustavo suggested. "If you go there, many folks will also recognize you! I know Héctor would!"

The mention of his ex-partner's name made their leader frown.

"All the more reason to stay away from Santa Cecilia," Ernesto sighed. "I don't think Hector would want to see me after kicking him out. Maybe in a few years or so, I would ask him if he would want to play with us."

"No, no, no, no!" Antonio and Gustavo both shook their heads, furiously. "That's not the reason we want to go there!"

"Then what is it?" Ernesto asked, his patience running thin.

"Well, um, Imelda could be hiding out in there," Gustavo stuttered.

"Why in the world would she be there? She has no family there."

"Imelda could be in Santa Cecilia with a certain someone!" Antonio suggested, as heavily and subtly as he could.

"What are you saying?" Ernesto frowned. "Who?"

"Maybe she is with Héctor?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Ernesto barked, bonking his bandmates on the heads so hard that they fell to the ground. "Hector is my best friend, why would he do that? He has never stolen anything from me before.

The two men rubbed their heads.

"But-but-but-but-but-Ernesto-"

"Don't you 'but' me!" The musician snarled, pointing to his bottom. "Now, stand up, and let's find who really took Imelda from me. I am certain that it is someone I do not know!"

A week later, Hector was milking the cow, Betsy, when his uncle came inside the stable. He closed the doors of the stable shut. He had to make sure that nobody would be listening.

"So chamaco, when are you and Imelda going to get married?"

Hector almost missed the pail, while handling one of the cow's udders. "Que!? What are you talking about, we are married!"

"I meant for real," Chicharron clarified. "Get a marriage license so that you two can legally be together."

"Yo no se, Tío."

"What do you mean you don't know? You love the girl, don't you?"

"Of course!"

"And you didn't regret having a baby with her didn't you?"

"Not at all!"

"And you two wanted to give Coco a better life. And give her a brother or sister, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Then what's stopping you?" Chicharron demanded. "And you better have a good reason or else I'll knock your head off to next Tuesday!"

Hector didn't feel like talking about it. He didn't want to talk about his nightmares or else it will set him off balance. He managed to utter one word.

"Ernesto."

"What about him?"

Hector took a deep breath and exhaled.

"I have been not sleeping well. Every night, I keep dreaming that Ernesto would suddenly appear from nowhere and take Imelda away from me!"

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, I am surprised that he hasn't shown up yet!"

"Well, maybe he's busy chasing another skirt or something," Chicharron replied. "Mira, Imelda divorced Ernesto, right?"

His nephew nodded.

"Bueno, then she is free for you to take as a wife. You must marry her."

"Yes, but what about Ernesto?"

"That butt-chinned guy is not coming back. Wasn't he too busy fooling around with women while you were in town?"

"Yes," Héctor nodded, recalling the other day when he discovered him with Camilla. "Knowing him, he will eventually get bored and find another woman to flirt with."

"Then you have nothing to worry about and I say you two get married-for real."

"If we do, I hope the nightmares will stop. I could use a nap."

"I am sure they will."