Los Cuatro
Copyright© 2025 by Art Samms
Epilogue
Five years later
The sun was sinking low over the Pacific, the horizon washed in orange and violet, and the four of us sat on the deck of our little vacation home in Costa Rica, half-lost in the view, half-lost in memories.
“Still can’t believe you two actually went through with buying this place,” Isa said, leaning back in her chair, glass of wine in hand. “I remember you talking about it on your honeymoon like it was just a wild idea.”
I smiled, glancing over at Luz. She was curled up beside me, one hand resting casually on her stomach. “Yeah, well, turns out wild ideas sometimes stick.”
Marisol smirked. “You’re telling me. I was sure it was just post-wedding euphoria. Next thing I know, you’re emailing me house plans and asking for my opinion on paint colors.”
“Hey, you gave very organized, spreadsheet-backed input,” I teased. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less.”
Luz laughed softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was the right choice. This place ... it’s ours. And Alexa’s, too. She’ll grow up with memories here.”
Isa tilted her head. “Speaking of, I can’t believe you left her behind for this trip.”
“That was the hardest part,” Luz admitted, though she was smiling. “But you know my parents—they practically begged us to leave her with them. I think my mom’s been waiting all year for the chance to play abuela full-time.”
“And don’t forget my mom,” I added. “She’s already FaceTimed twice today, just to ‘check in on Alexa,’ as if she isn’t being spoiled within an inch of her life.”
That earned a laugh all around. Marisol shook her head. “Your mom has adapted better than I thought she would.”
“She adores Alexa,” I said. “Honestly, that’s made everything easier. And when Luz and I slipped off to Utah last year—” I gave Luz’s hand a squeeze— “it was the first time I’ve seen her look that happy in a long, long time.”
Isa swirled her wine, thoughtful. “It’s kind of perfect, isn’t it? The way all of you have managed to pull people together ... families, friends ... even after everything.”
For a moment, silence settled over us, broken only by the sound of the surf below. I glanced at Luz, at the way her hand lingered on her stomach. My heart caught a little. They didn’t know yet—not that child number two was a boy. That was for later — the big gender reveal party after we got back to Texas.
“Five years,” Marisol said suddenly, shaking her head. “From hostages to homeowners in paradise. Not bad, hermano.”
I raised my glass. “Not bad at all.”
The conversation drifted from there, as it always did with us, from families and babies to work and the latest chapter in our lives.
“So,” Isa said, pointing her glass at me and Marisol like she was cross-examining us in a courtroom, “how exactly does an accountant and a computer geek end up running a company together?”
Marisol gave her an unimpressed look. “Discipline and brains. What else?”
Isa smirked. “Oh, right. The most glamorous power couple in all of Brownsville—except you’re not actually a couple, and you spend half your time arguing about formatting in spreadsheets.”
“Excuse me,” I said, feigning indignation. “It’s not arguing. It’s ... spirited debate.”
“Spirited debate?” Isa laughed. “I’ve heard less heated arguments in divorce court.”
Luz nudged me gently. “She has a point.”
I just shook my head, grinning. “It works. Somehow. She keeps the numbers airtight, I build the tools to make them easier, and together we’ve managed to convince actual people to pay us for it.”
“Convince?” Marisol cut in, straightening in her chair. “Let’s be clear—we’ve built something good. Solid. We didn’t just fall into it.”
Her tone softened a little as she glanced my way. “I’ll admit, though, if someone had told me five years ago I’d be business partners with you, Brendan ... I would’ve laughed in their face.”
“Same here,” I said honestly. “When we first met, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me dead or just out of the way.”
Isa nearly spit out her drink. “Oh, she wanted you dead. Trust me, I was there.”
Marisol rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Fine. Maybe I didn’t think you’d last long in our world. But I was wrong. You’ve proven yourself.”
For Marisol, that was about as warm and fuzzy as it got. I took it with a grin.
“Besides,” she added, “our little company lets me keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t get eaten alive out there.”
Isa groaned dramatically. “Ugh, stop. You’re making it sound like some kind of married couple story. Can you imagine that alternate universe?”
Luz laughed so hard she had to wipe at her eyes. “I can’t. I really can’t.”
“Good,” I said quickly. “Let’s never imagine it again.”