Chapter 6: The Return

True to his word their first customer Manuel Fernández spread the news to his friends about the new Zapatero that had just opened up, and soon the customers started to trickle in. Then they told their friends about the excellent shoes and service provided, and before the Riveras knew it business was booming. There were orders for new work boots every day, but there were also orders for ladies high heeled shoes, children's sandals and much more.

Imelda was over the moon. Finally, her dream of owning a successful business of her very own had come true! She supposed it had all started when she was stripped of her parents at age five when they had both succumbed to malaria and she had been forced to live in the orphanage with nothing but her baby brothers and her name. The other children were envious that she was the only one who had the privilege of knowing her parents and the love they had given her, and they shunned her cruelly. All except two other boys, one three years older than her and the other one year younger.

"It's nice that you knew your parents. Unlike me and Ernesto." The younger one had said.

"Sí, but I have a last name too." The older boy bragged. "Mi Mamá died giving birth to me, but she gave me the name Ernesto de la Cruz before she was gone." He waved his hand in the air as he proudly said his name as if imagining it on a huge sign in the sky.

"I'm sorry about your Mamá." Imelda said as she bounced Felipe in her lap. Ernesto just shrugged it off and she turned to the smaller boy. "You don't have a last name?"

"No, I didn't have a first name either. The nuns named me Héctor." Then a look glazed over his eyes and he snapped open a small book by his side and started scribbling furiously into it with a pencil.

"What are you writing?... Wait a minute, you can write?! Aren't you only four?" Imelda glowered, angry because even she didn't know how to read or write yet.

Héctor grinned without looking up from his writing. "I learned last year." He said, without a single hint of arrogance. "Padre said that I got so many thoughts in my head that I should write them all down, so he taught me to read earlier than most other kids do."

"Hmmph." Imelda turned away, but curiosity got the better of her. "So what are you writing?"

Héctor read what he had just written. "He floated by, without a name, carried on the wind. Oh, so many thoughts came to my mind, if I could only give one to him."

"Better make it a she instead of a he, chamaco." Ernesto said. "I told you before; all good songs are about girls."

"Gross." Héctor wrinkled his nose but made the changes anyway.

"You're turning your thoughts into songs?" Imelda asked.

"Sí!" Héctor nodded. "And when I get bigger, Padre said he'll teach me to play his guitar. My arms are too small for it now. It's Ernesto's and my dream to become musicians!"

That had gotten Imelda thinking: What was her dream? She then decided that she wanted something that she could hold onto and keep for herself, something that wouldn't be forcibly taken from her like her parents were. Life was fickle like that though, so the thought of owning her own business seemed more plausible. But alas, she had been born a woman, and for her options were limited, especially when she found herself married to that little boy from her youth. But instead Imelda found herself a wonderful spouse and two loving brothers who were nothing but supportive and helped her achieve her dream. She had never felt so lucky.

"Imelda, hurry up with that sewing machine!" Oscar whined.

And she had never felt so stressed and annoyed.

"I can't hurry up!" Imelda turned as much as her growing stomach would allow. "I have to sew six more pairs of dance shoes for the music troupe. You are just going to have to wait! I thought you were done with the Alvarez order anyway?"

"We are…" Felipe smiled at his brother. "But we have another, more fun, project that we've been working on."

Imelda quirked an eyebrow. "Which is?"

Oscar bounced with excitement before pulling a paper from behind him. "We wanted it to be a surprise-"

"But we just can't take it anymore!"

"So for you and the baby-"

"We designed these!"

They handed Imelda the paper, which turned out to be a blueprint for a pair of boots. A very tiny pair of boots. "Are these… baby-sized steel toe boots?"

"SI!" Felipe laughed. "And this is just the prototype! We think that they will be a huge success for new mothers!"

Imelda sighed and rubbed her eyes. "You two… Babies don't work out in the fields, or around animals or heavy machinery. They don't work at all, they just lie there. Why in the world would they need steel toe boots?"

The twins' smiles faltered and they looked at each other. "Uh… Novelty?"

"Ay Dios mio… I've told you before; you need to stop experimenting with shoes! I'm just glad you showed me this before you actually wasted any material."

Felipe chuckled weakly. "Well, you see…uh-"

"We already cut out the material we needed." Oscar finished.

"ESTAS BROMEANDO?!" Imelda exploded. "We could have used that material for an actual shoe! Instead you used it for your stupid inventions! I cannot believe you two!"

As Imelda continued to scream at her cowering brothers, Héctor tacked a boot together at the center table, lost in thought. While he was happy that his wife was happy, glad to be with his family, and so excited about the new baby, there was a thought that had been eating at him the past few months.

Ernesto.

Soon after he had gotten back to Santa Cecilia, Ernesto had sent him a telegram telling him that the last remaining performances had gone splendidly and that he would hear from him again soon. That was five months ago, and so far nothing had come. It was easy to ignore at first what with all the excitement at being home and the fact that Ernesto never really was one for writing. But now fear had started to worm its way into his heart. What if he had decided that Héctor was too small-time for the great Ernesto de la Cruz and decided that he didn't need to come back to his old hometown? But no, that wouldn't happen. Ernesto was a pompous man, no doubt, but he was also his friend. No, he was his brother. They had been through so much together that he would at least tell him goodbye to his face. No, there was a worst fear inside Héctor. What if something terrible had happened to Ernesto? What if he was kidnapped by some banditos, held prisoner somewhere dark and cold, or worse… dead?

"AY!" Héctor screamed as he hammered his thumb against the sharp tack. "Joder!" he cursed and stuck his bleeding digit into his mouth.

"Héctor?" Imelda came over and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Si, I'm just being stupid and not paying attention." Héctor said and showed her his thumb. She went to the cabinet on the other side of the room to fetch the small first aid kit. "Damn that smarts."

"Better watch yourself, cuñado." Oscar teased. "Or else you won't be able to play guitar anymore."

"Nah, we could just flatten the rest so you'll be all nice and even." Felipe laughed.

"Alright you two, out." Imelda ordered. "And don't think I'm done talking to you both either!" she called after them as they raced out of the work shop. She then sat in front of Héctor and examined his thumb. "Probrecito." She cooed.

Héctor rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad."

"If it's bleeding, then it's bad in my book." Imelda reasoned as she soaked a cotton ball in alcohol. She placed it against the small laceration and he hissed in pain. "Lo siento. But my stupid brothers are right. I would hate for this to get infected and you not are able to play your music. For that matter, no more playing until this fully heals."

"Sí, senora." Héctor smiled. "Unless you work the frets while I strum. Wouldn't that be a sight at the plaza." Both laughed at that but then the mood turned somber again.

"You were thinking about Ernesto, weren't you?" she asked.

"What?! No! Pppft! Of course not. Why would I be thinking about him? I mean, it's not like he hasn't written or telegraphed me to tell me he's alright, or if he's d-" Héctor choked on the last word and paled. Imelda finished tying up the bandage on Héctor's thumb before brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"I know you're worried about him, mi amor." Imelda said.

"Yes." Héctor sighed and bowed his head. "It's been five months Imelda. The last telegram I sent him was sent back with no response. I'd go looking for him but I don't know where to start! And I can't leave you now with the baby on the way! I just-… I don't know what to do!" He rested his forehead on Imelda's shoulder as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Now you know how I felt that last month you were gone without a word, payaso." She said with a smile.

"I'm sorry." Héctor whispered. Imelda kissed him on the head and then lifted him up and kissed him deeply and passionately. Héctor sighed into the kiss and some of his fears melted away. He then pulled back feeling a little better, but then a thought struck him. "They'd tell me though, right? If he was d-dead? What if he doesn't have his identification on him? They wouldn't know who he was."

Imelda placed a hand on his cheek. "Then we'll put out alerts in all the papers asking about a man with the chin that sunk the Titanic." She smiled as Héctor finally laughed for the first time in days and then they kissed again.

"Please, diosa!"

"No."

"Pleeeeeease?…"

"NO."

"It's a great name!"

Imelda glared at Héctor and rubbed her stomach. "I will not name my baby after that gun-toting, murderous maniac!"

Héctor scoffed. "Pancho Villa is a man of the people, Imelda. He's a hero! And I would be honored if my son inherits such a name."

"It's going to be a girl, Papá." Coco chimed in. "I don't want a brother."

"You'll take what you get, mija." Imelda said before turning back to Héctor. "Besides, there are already four little boys running around the town, all named Pancho. Be a little more original with the boy names, would you?"

Héctor pouted. Imelda had agreed that if the baby was going to be a boy then he would be the one to name him. But so far she had vetoed every name he had come up with! Granted they were all names of notorious revolutionaries or infamous banditos, but those guys were cool! He wanted his son to be cool too!

"Whatever." He muttered before yelling into the shop. "Chamacos, come on in, it's time to eat!"

Oscar came in first, glaring. "Héctor, we're eighteen years old, we're not kids anymore. Are you ever going to stop calling us that?"

"'Fraid not." Héctor said, smiling as Oscar grumbled. "Dig in everyone!"

Felipe looked at his plate of food and then glanced up at his brother-in-law. "Héctor?"

"Sí?"

"This is Ensalada de Noche Buena." He said, holding up his bowl.

"Sí."

"It's June, Héctor."

"Sí."

Felipe pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Why are we eating Christmas Eve Salad in June, Héctor?!"

"Ah, well that is because your dear sister was having a mighty craving for it, weren't you diosa?" He turned lovingly to his wife, who had already finished up her first bowl and was going in for seconds. She just nodded with her mouth full of greens. "And what she craves is what we eat."

"I thought you hated Ensalada de Noche Buena?" Oscar questioned, before noticing that Héctor's plate held only rice, beans and a flour tortilla.

"Actually I hate beets. "Héctor said, his reasoning being that if he wanted to eat things that tasted like dirt then he would just eat dirt. "But this is good right? I heard that husbands of pregnant wives eat more than the wives themselves and gain a lot of weight, so if she's craving foods I hate then I'll be fine."

Oscar snorted. "No offense Héctor, but you could probably eat a wheelbarrow full of pan dulce and not have an ounce of it stick to you." Both he and his brother started laughing at Héctor as he self-consciously placed a hand flat against his stomach. Even Coco and Imelda started to laugh at him!

"Oh, like you two are ones to talk!" Héctor grumbled. "You both are twigs too!"

"Not like you, espantapájaros!" Felipe chortled and high-fived his brother.

Soon the three men were shouting "FLACO FLACO FLACO" at each other, while Imelda held onto her large belly and tried to not choke on her salad while she laughed. Suddenly a knock came at the door and the noise was silenced, except for Coco who was singing flaco over and over. The knock sounded again before Héctor stood up.

"We're closed for the evening. Come back tomorrow!"

"Oh, but I'm not a customer, hermano." A voice said, oozing charm.

Héctor gasped at the voice and paled. Imelda straightened up too and looked towards the door. Finally Héctor snapped out of his shock and bolted to the door before flinging it open to reveal:

"Ernesto?!"