What I pull out of the bag makes me instantly tear up.
It’s a stunning, detailed, framed sketch of me, my dad, and my abuela smiling, standing around a table, with a huge platter of arepas on it. Up top, it’s titled, “El Abrevadero’s Legacy,” in carefully done block lettering. All three of our faces look so animated and full of joy. There’s warmth emanating from every stroke of the pencil.
My throat is too tight with emotion to speak.
“Please say something. Do you hate it?” Celeste’s voice has the distinct note of panic.
I shake my head, haul her to me, and kiss her again. There’s no possible way for me to hold her tightly enough. She melts a little and kisses me back passionately before we pull apart at Tania clearing her throat.
“So you hate it, then?” Celeste teases in a whisper at my ear.
“It’s awful. How dare you have something so beautiful and thoughtful made for me,” I rumble back into her ear.
She smiles against my neck, and gives me one last squeeze before I turn to Tania.
“You are ridiculously talented, my friend. The way you captured the three of us is incredible. Thank you so much,” I tell her fervently.
“My pleasure,” she says with a smile. “It was all Cece’s brain child, I just executed it the way she envisioned.”
“How did you capture our facial expressions and personalities like that in the sketch?”
“Cece sent me pictures of you, your dad, and the one of your abuela and you cooking together. Your faces in those shots already had everything I needed, I just rendered them into a sketch,” she says.
“I provided moral support, that’s about it,” Carlo pipes in, pulling Tania close and gazing at her so proudly. She smiles up at him with pure affection.
“Where do you think it should go?” Celeste asks.
“Right where everyone will see it as soon as they walk up to the bar,” I say, taking the framed sketch with me as I go to the shelves in the very center behind the bar. Moving a few bottles to the side, I prop it up in its deserved place in the spotlight. It’s an eight by ten frame, so it commands attention in that spot without it dominating the space. The overhead lamp shines on it perfectly.
Celeste comes up to the bar and rests her forearms on it, cocking her head to take in the sketch sitting in pride of place on the shelf. Tania and Carlo seem to want to give us time to ourselves, and make themselves scarce. They bustle around the front area straightening out chairs, rearranging the flowers, and fussing over table settings.
“I thought it would be a good way to show the influencer how much this bar means to your family,” she explains.
“I love it so much. My pops is going to lose it when he sees it,” I say.
“Some coworkers from the diner, a few friends from the animal shelter, and even a couple of people I’ve become friendly with in my anger management class are going to behere. Hopefully that’ll look good to the influencer, too. A bigger crowd will impress her.”
This woman is quickly wrapping me all the way around her little finger. She likes to be tough, but there is a huge softy underneath, and she always shows up for the people she cares about. I lean across the bar and lift her chin with my finger.
“You’re amazing for doing all of this, you know? I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine,” I murmur close to her mouth.
Her face morphs into pure mischief as she leans even closer to my ear.
“Maybe you can show me how much you appreciate me at home later,” she whispers.
First, my heart swells about three sizes at her calling our place home. Then the meaning of her words sinks in on a delay, and every fucking fiber of my being becomes a live wire. She’s going to kill me before I can even show the influencer my beloved bar.
“There is nothing I want more than to show you how much I appreciate you, but to do that I need to stay alive until we get home. So play fair, mi vida,” I whisper back.
Her grin is wicked as she backs away, shoots me a wink, then goes to join Carlo and Tania up front. It takes me a minute of thinking about sports stats and other mundane things to get my body to calm down, but I somehow manage.
My dad, Wayne, and Gina come strolling in next, followed by Diana. All of them gasp and start to cry when they see the drawing. My dad goes up to Celeste and takes her hands, raising them to his lips to kiss both of them. I don’t miss how his hands shake as they hold hers, but I can’ttell if his Parkinson’s is bad right now, or whether he’s just completely overcome.
“That is such a touching gift, mija. Thank you,” he says, voice rough with emotion. She looks taken aback by both the endearment and physical affection for a beat, but then she squeezes his hands back and kisses him on the cheek. He’s going to adore her forever after she showed so much care for our family.
I’m right there with him.
Our servers and bartenders start drifting in to get ready for what will hopefully be a busy shift. The live band warms up and will no doubt have everyone on the dance floor. Soon enough, the bar opens and there is a bigger crowd than I have ever seen here. It’s all hands on deck with Iggy taking lead at the bar, and Diana heading up the front area, giving her megawatt smile to every single soul she greets. I jump in wherever I’m needed and work the crowd, while my Dad holds court with a bunch of people at a corner table.
