Antonio looked out the window. It looked as if they were in a verylocalneighborhood. He heard dogs barking and loud music playing. Antonio sucked his teeth. He knew a hood when he saw one. And Hector had definitely taken them to the hood of Playa del Carmen.
“Yo,” Antonio said. “I thought I told you to take me to the best place for—”
“It is!” Hector interrupted, arms raised. “Please, see for yourself.”
Jackie held on to Antonio’s arm, clearly a little afraid.
Antonio shrugged. “I mean, if we gotta squabble, then at least I know you’re cold with a bat.”
Jackie glared at him as if she wanted to land a right uppercut to his jaw.
Hector quickly exited the car. He opened Jackie’s door, then Antonio’s. Antonio hustled over to stand next to Jackie. He stood taller, puffing his chest out. They were in a foreign country in a strange neighborhood. He was in protector mode.
“This way,” Hector motioned. The trio turned down one more side street, and it was as if they had entered a whole new world. Gone was the pretentiousness and sterility of the resort, but this was no sketchy alleyway either. Humble homes and business lined the streets. Children were running and playing. Colorful lights were strung up all around. Apparently, this spot was the heart of this neighborhood. A place where the community gathered to enjoy themselves. From the laughter and joy in the air, Antonio could feel the love. Then he felt Jackie reach out, taking his hand. He looked down, intertwining his fingers with hers. Maybe she felt the love too. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The restaurant in the middle of the block was bustling. Couples and families dined outside under a covered veranda, which read in faded lettersCecelia’s Cocina. A mariachi band played, and people danced on a little makeshift dance floor. As they made their way closer, an older woman with gray hair in two long braids approached. She wiped her hands on her floral-printed apron and outstretched her arms.
“Hector!” she said with a wide smile.
“Cecelia!” Hector said.
They embraced, and Cecelia heartily patted him on the back. Her Spanish was so rapid that Antonio couldn’t even attempt to translate. Cecelia grinned at Antonio and Jackie.
“Let me guess, Hector,” Antonio said. “Is this another cousin?”
Hector shook his head. “Prima? No!” He paused. “She’s my sister.”
“Ah, of course,” laughed Antonio. Clearly, Lupe’s entire family was in on the tourism side hustle.
“So, are these my honored guests for the evening?” Cecelia asked.
“Sí,” Hector said, nodding.
Without warning, Cecilia hugged Jackie, giving her two quick kisses on her cheeks and saying, “¡Bienvenidos!” Then she stood in front of Antonio and looked up.
“Whoa, you’re a tall one,” Cecilia mused. She looked back at Jackie, pointing her chubby finger, and spoke in rapid Spanish again. This time, Antonio could roughly translate. She’d said something like,This little one handles all of you?
Antonio coughed, and Hector howled with laughter.
Jackie looked at Antonio, confused.
“She just asked how tall I was,” lied Antonio. “It was funny.”
Jackie grunted. He knew she didn’t believe that one damn bit.
Antonio shrugged. “It’s funnier in Spanish.”
Hector put his arm around his sister proudly. “Cecelia makes the tastiest tacos in Playa del Carmen. Trust me. You won’t be disappointed.”
At that moment, the smile on Jackie’s face could have lit the night sky.
Antonio squeezed her hand. “You deserve to have real meat on our last night here, at the very least.”
Jackie sighed, tears glistening in her dark brown eyes. Crying over tacos? That was a first in Antonio’s book.
“You might want to hold off on the tears,” warned Antonio in a low voice. “Hector could be exaggerating. These tacos could be trash!”
“¿Mis tacos? ¿Basura?” Cecelia grumbled, turning her back to them and heading back to her restaurant. Antonio winced, embarrassed that he’d offended the kind woman.
