Chapter 8
“I think it’s all finally set up,” Silvia said two weeks later, looking around at the building they’d rented to hold their massive family.
“Good thing we got here so early,” Araceli said.
“Like I suggested,” Silvia pointed out.
“Sure, sure.” Ara surveyed the set up. There were snack tables lined with plates, cups, and cutlery and covered with white tablecloths. There was space for dancing and the dj had set up already. “It’s all perfect, Sil. They’re going to love it.”
“I think so,” Silvia said. “It’s good to see it all come together.”
Ara gave her a smile. “Yeah, it is.”
“You never told me what happened, you know. With Donovan.”
“He’s not getting the firm,” Ara said, surprised into honesty by the question. “That was all he ever wanted anyway.” Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Not here.”
Her sister didn’t press her further. She simply put her arm around her and pulled her against her side. Silvia pressed a kiss to her sister’s hair. Then people began to pour in and soon the snack tables were nearly buckling under the weight of the food everyone had brought.
“Okay,” Thomas said. “Everyone settle down! We want it to be a surprise, remember?”
Quiet fell and Ara hoped it would last long enough. It did.
“There he is!” Silvia said, grabbing Araceli’s arm and just barely holding back from jumping up and down. Her voice was trembling with excitement.
A cheer went through the crowd as Francisco walked into the room. He looked around and Ara and Silvia beamed when he realized that much more than his immediate family filled the room. His brother Saul threw his arms around him and thumped him on the back, getting laughing reproofs from some of the younger family members closest.
“Happy Birthday!” Everyone in the room called out just before music began to play and people began to gather around.
Araceli knew that it would be awhile before she could make her way to her grandfather, so she danced with some of her younger cousins, untangled a few arguments, and held various new babies to give their parents a chance to dance or mingle unencumbered.
A few hours later the music stopped and her sister stepped up. “May I have your attention for just a few moments?” she called, her voice clear and sweet. “Thank you.” She smiled around at the room. “Now, I know that a Vasquez doesn’t need an excuse for a party...” Silvia paused while everyone shouted their agreement. “But we’ve gathered here for more than just a good time. We’re celebrating our Abuelo Francisco who turns ninety years old today!”
Araceli joined in the cheers and whistles, clapping until her hands hurt.
“A few of us wanted to say a few things. Which is not a surprise.” Silvia winked at the crowd. “But I get to start because I’m the one who’s been organizing this thing for the better part of a year. And I couldn’t have done it without all of you. You all pitched in, whether you brought food, or drinks, or cups.” Here she paused and smiled at Araceli.
“Blue. Plastic. Twenty ounces.” Araceli called back to her and the crowd laughed.
“Exactly,” Silvia said, deadpan. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that you’ve all helped so much and this is exactly the celebration I wanted it to be. A celebration worthy of our Abuelo. A man who always knows the right thing to say and the right time to say it. A man who gave me some of the best advice of my life when he told me that my high school sweetheart was a sure thing. A man who dried my tears, gave me ice cream, and took me to buy my graduation dress even though he hates shopping. To you, Abuelo Francisco!”
She stepped to the side and others stepped up to make their speeches. As they did, Araceli inched closer and closer until she was standing beside her grandfather’s chair. She reached out and linked her fingers with his, resting her head on his shoulder as they listened to the speeches.
“I don’t have one,” she whispered as the last speaker stepped away.
Francisco turned to her and smiled. His eyes were bright, but he’d managed not to shed a tear. “Mija, you brought the cups. Who could manage to do both?”
Araceli laughed and fell into her grandfather’s arms. “I love you, abuelo.”
“I love you too,” he said gruffly. “Now, tell me this. Why do you look so sad?”
“Now isn’t the time,” she said, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to hide her emotions better.
“It’s my party. I decide that. I’ve heard that someone is trying to buy Arturo’s firm. Is that the problem?”
“No. Yes.” Araceli shook her head. “He’s not trying anymore.”
“And you wish he would?”
“No! I was never going to let that happen. It’s just...” She looked down at her shoes. After she’d walked out on Donovan, she’d cried the whole way home. To be fair, half of it was rage. But the other half was pure loss. She’d really thought that they might have had something. “I liked him. A lot. And I thought that he was beginning to understand me. But before he left he made me an offer that proved that he never had. I guess...I guess I was just hurt that what I thought we had wasn’t what we had.”
“Is it possible that he didn’t know what he had?”
Araceli blinked, remembering what Donovan had told her about his family. And about the way he’d felt about Oliver Ingram.
“Maybe not,” she said slowly. “We’re pretty different.”
“Then, no matter what comes of it, you have the knowledge that it wasn’t you he didn’t understand. It was himself.”
She put her head back on her grandfather’s shoulder. It didn’t remove the ache in her heart from missing Donovan, but it helped.