“That is my dear friend Pedro. He’s very special to me.”
Kailee asks Penelope a million questions about Pedro, and she happily explains that her grandfather had given it to her. She tells Kailee about the Day of the Dead, teaching her that in Spanish it was Día de Muertos. “
That sounds sad,” Kailee says, her face composed and thoughtful.
“It can be. But it can be a happy time too.”
“Really?”
“Yep. We have this big party, with music, and dancing, and lots of things to eat.”
“What about the loved ones who aren’t there?” Kailee just learned the term “loved ones” from Penelope and keeps using it.
“They’re celebrating too.”
“They are?”
“Yep. Because we believe they are watching us. And when they see us celebrate, they know that we must still love them and remember them. And that makes them so happy that we care enough about them to throw a party to remember them.”
I tell ya, Penelope has a way with words. She explains things in a way that a seven-year-old can grasp.
Later that night, we sit on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn. We’re watching Cool Runnings—at my insistence. Neither Kailee nor Penelope has seen it, which as far as I’m concerned, is just unacceptable.
Kailee enjoys it, even if there were a few parts that went over her head. But by the time the credits roll, she’s fast asleep.
Me and Ines get up, careful not to jostle Kailee too much. I place a blanket over my daughter.
In the kitchen, Penelope says “I saw you crying, you know.”
“Ah shoot. I thought I hid it pretty well.”
“Nope. I could totally see.”
“Damn. Well, now you know the truth. I’m just a big softie.”
“Oh I already knew that,” she says. “And I like it. You are my big softie.”
“I am, huh?”
“Yep,” she says, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
I walk over to her, gently take her chin in my hand, and lean in for a kiss.
* * *
When I getup the next morning, I go to the kitchen for a glass of water. Penelope’s in her scrubs, pouring coffee into a large stainless steel thermos.
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Morning. Glad I caught you before you left,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I actually need to get going. I’m running late.” She rustles around her purse before pulling out a key. “Here. It’s my spare. If you go anywhere, just make sure to lock up.”
“You got it.”
“Help yourself to whatever food you can find. I’ll see you guys tonight.”
“Sounds good.”
