Chapter 7: Día de Muertos

Sallie and I were back in “glory days” mode. Our evenings began with fantastic dinners courtesy of mi abuela and Sallie. Then, while I cleaned up the dishes and pans, Sallie spread out her books on the kitchen table. In the living room, the TV was tuned to either the Telemundo or Univision station.

I’d dry my hands and sit across from Sallie to do my own assignments. One thing that helped us was that we proofread each other’s assignments before turning them in by exchanging our old laptops across the table. Some of what she wrote I couldn’t follow technically, but misused plurals and comma splices I could fix for her. She corrected my work as well. Embarrassingly, she’d read my run-on sentences back to me in a monotone before breaking up into giggles.

We also saw a whole new side of my grandmother. Not only was she a skilled physical therapist, she was also an accomplished dancer. Several times a week, we’d put the books aside and push the furniture out to the walls to make room for dancing lessons on the hardwood floor. Twirling in her skirts, she’d get lost in the music and her cheeks would redden.

“Pablo would take me out for dancing all the time. He was so graceful...”

Without thinking, I blurted out, “Would you like me to take you dancing? I mean, I’m not very good yet.”

“Jason, you don’t have to.”

“Mi abuela. It would be my privilege.”

“But what about Sallie?”

“First dance with you, second with Sallie, and so on. Until I step on one of your feet or trip over myself and fall.”

Sallie laughed. “No, sweetie. You’re doing great. The two of us are going to wear you out, that’s all.”

“I think that’s likely. I’ll just lie on the floor peacefully with flowers on my chest, waiting for the coroner to haul me away.”

“Oh, shut up, Jason. I need you all perky for later.”

My grandmother ignored the innuendo and said, “Oh, you’ve given me an idea. Three weeks from today is November first, the Día de Muertos.”