She threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Good night.”
She was turning to walk away when Enrique reached for her hand. “Wait, I’ll go with you. Let me drive you.”
“No. It’s okay. I have a car.”
“You’re too upset to drive. I can take you. We took two cars here—my family can ride with Ramón.”
She considered refusing, but he was right. She was shaken up.And Enrique had been... He’d been more than nice. He’d been such a big help tonight. And he’d made her smile—it had been a long time since a man had done that.
Would it really hurt to let him go with her? To let him keep her company?
“Okay. Thank you.”
He took out his phone. “Where is he?”
“Santa Maria General.” He tapped on his phone as she got up to find Blanca.
Blanca was under a tree, chatting with Tiburón while a few of their younger sisters ate candy nearby.
“Blanca, can you make sure everyone gets home? Papá is awake. He has a blood clot in his lung. I’m going to head over there.”
“Is that curable?”
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t. At that point, she was completely helpless.
“Okay. Text me. Of course I’ll watch the girls. And I’ll get the donkey back to the church.”
“I’ll help,” offered Tiburón.
“Thanks.” Carolina hugged her sister and nodded at Tiburón. The two sisters were so different and fought often, but ultimately, Blanca was Carolina’s best friend. She told Blanca everything and couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to have Blanca in her life.
Enrique approached Carolina. “Let’s go.” Enrique took Carolina’s hand and they walked to his Tesla SUV. And even though Las Posadas were over, and they were no longer “husband and wife,” his hand felt natural around hers.
They didn’t talk for much of the ride. Carolina was too nervous and upset to engage in trivial conversation.
Finally, they arrived at the hospital and exited the car, making their way to the front entrance.
Enrique brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder, his brow furrowed. “Do you want me to stay out here?”
She shook her head without thinking twice. “No. Please come with me.” She didn’t want to do this alone.
Enrique and Carolina walked into the hospital and talked to a nurse. She escorted them down a long hallway to the room.
When she entered, Carolina took one look at Papá, hooked up to the machines, and gasped.
It was even worse than she had feared.
The stark white walls and harsh fluorescent lights made his normally dark skin look pale, and the room smelled like bleach. His chest heaved and his labored breathing echoed through the room. Mamá sat by his side, clutching his hand.
His eyes opened slowly. “Mija.”
Carolina rushed toward him, grabbed his free hand.
“Papá! You’re awake.”
Papá dropped Mamá’s hand, squeezed Carolina’s fingers, looked around the room—and smiled. It was the biggest, widest smile she’d seen from him in a long time. His eyes flickered with life as he pointed at Enrique. “Mija.” Papá pointed at Enrique. “Quién es él? Tu novio?”
Her cheeks burned. Carolina wanted to crawl under the hospital bed to shield herself from embarrassment. She couldn’t believe her father had asked her if Enrique was her boyfriend. In front of him, no less. Carolina prayed Enrique didn’t understand Spanish. But even if he wasn’t fluent,noviowas a common word.
