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Eddie was six years old when his Abuela taught him about the Day of the Dead, or Dia de los Muertos. Her accent hugged the words with a reverence that could only be reserved for those held most dear in one’s life. He can recall, with near-perfect memory, sitting in the living room of his childhood home as she recalled her youth in Juarez and the joyful celebration of those who had passed.
Dressed in his Halloween costume, days before he would go trick-or-treating and brimming with overeagerness, Isobel Diaz shared the traditions of their culture. He was enthralled as she told stories about how, when she had migrated to the United States, she and her now-deceased Abuelo would still honor their lost family and loved ones in the days that followed; the traditions she had hoped to instill in her own children and, eventually, her grandchildren.
He watched with zeal as she would decorate the calaveras or decorative skulls, or how she would take her time in the garden center to pick out the right marigolds, or how she would construct, or instead instruct the construction of the ofrenda, or alter, with a dictatorial tone. She did so with a solemnity of remembrance, but come the day of the celebration, she would be as happy as she was at any other high point.
Even in the years that she would remain in Los Angeles and not make the return trip to El Paso, Eddie would call her on the day to wish her well and to hear about the preparations she and his aunt Pepa would be making on the Gold Coast. He was routinely jealous of his cousins, who would be regaled with stories of the dead and the treats and vibrant celebrations. His own father did not embrace his family's traditions, not out of defiance or lack of interest, but rather because time was better spent working.
Eddie now sat in his living room as she fussed over Christopher and explained the traditions to him. Eddie smiled as she exclaimed excitedly about what still needed to be done for the day after Halloween. Chris giggled along with her, and Eddie’s heart swelled. He missed having her close, even though Chris spent more time with his nose down in his phone, and his giggles were at best distracted.
He sipped his coffee quietly and glanced at the buckets of marigolds that were adorning the living room floor. His Abuela had made the trip home this year despite her advancing age. She was sitting opposite him, reviewing a list of tasks that needed to be completed. As he took another sip of his coffee, he knew that he was going to be asked to do something shortly. He thought for a moment that he should regret hosting the evening’s celebration.
“Eddie?” She asked him, her brown eyes connecting with his.
“Yes, Abuela?” He replied quickly and respectfully, and all too knowingly about what was to come.
“Do you think you can bring some of the marigolds to the cemetery this afternoon?”
“I can do that,” Eddie replied as he forced the last of the tepid coffee down his throat in a quick gulp. As if there was any other response he could offer. He was exhausted after a 48-hour shift and being woken early to prepare for the evening’s festivities.
“Good. I will give you the list. You’ll need to make sure they are nice and centered with the stones,” she spoke gently.
“Understood,” Eddie said with a tone that he had not used since he was in the military. After all, he was facing down the toughest general he would ever know.
“There is one for Shannon, too.”
His lips curled into a somber smile as he recalled his late wife. His eyes glanced over to Christopher, who had grown up mostly without his mother, and the pain that came with it shrouded around them like the veil between the living and the dead. He pushed the memories of his more recent actions and the subsequent estrangement and continued grief to focus on the task at hand. It was best not to dwell on the pain of the past, but on the joy in the present and renewal of the future, or something like that, according to his therapist.
“Chris, do you want to come with me?” He called out as he reviewed the list Abuela pushed into his hands.
Silence. Each time he was met with silence, he feared they had found themselves at odds again, and as quickly as he thought that, he was reminded that he was the parent of a fourteen-year-old boy. Then it all made sense again.
“He will be fine here mijo, go,” Abuela said as she ushered him towards the door.
Eddie sighed as he yelled a goodbye to his screen-engulfed son and left the house to start the task that was more meaningful than words could convey.
***
The door swung open, and he was immediately pulled into a comforting hug from Isobel. Buck leaned deeply into the hug and kissed her on the cheek.
“Oh, how I have missed you,” she whispered in his ear as they slowly separated.
Buck smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry for being late. I was watching my niece and my nephew while Maddie was finishing her shift.” He blushed with the apology.
Abuela swatted his shoulder, “Don’t apologize. You’re here now.” Her smile was as warm as the spices that wafted through the doorway.
He pushed his way past her and entered the house, smiling and greeting the Diaz family he remembered. It had been some time since he had been with the extended Diaz clan, given everything that had happened in the last year or so, and then Pepe and Abuela’s relocation to El Paso.
“It looks great in here. I am surprised Eddie let you host at his place,” Buck grinned at Abuela as she motioned for his coat. As he slid out of his jacket, she let out a small laugh, “As if he had a choice once my daughter asked him.”
Buck laughed heartily, knowing all too well that no one said no to Pepa, especially her only nephew.
“Where is Eddie?” He asked as he scanned the room of cousins and friends.
“Abuela sent him to the cemetery,” Chris said as he made his way to give Buck a hug, which Buck immediately pulled him into.
“Ah,” Buck remarked as he tightened his grip, “and let me guess, you stayed here to help cook?”
It was Abuela’s turn to laugh heartily, “No, he sat there on his phone the whole time as if his life would end without it.”
Buck pulled away from the hug, “We talked about being present more.”
Chris frowned slightly, which curled into a knowing grin, “I know, but Dad would take forever to make sure that the marigolds are centered and that the stones would be clean.”
Buck looked at him, knowing the truth the statement yielded, “And it’s important to clean the graves of our loved ones, especially for the celebration. You know this.”
“And how do you know this?” A voice called from behind him.
Before he could speak, he was pulled into another tight (almost smothering) hug by Pepa.
“Buck researches everything,” Chris laughed.
“Ha, ha, now go see your cousins and get something to eat,” Buck said dryly as he swatted the air between them, as if to send him away.
“Mami and I cleaned the stones earlier. Eddie just needs to lay the flowers,” Pepe smiled as the two stood in their embrace.
“He reveres you,” She commented as Chris disappeared into the crowded house.
Buck blushed, “Well, after that comment, I don’t know it's mutual.”
She glared at him, knowingly.
“As if I could ever not revere him myself,” Buck breathed, knowing the much wiser woman baited him.
The two stared at each other for a moment, and Buck found the glint in her eye soothing and compassionate. He missed her, even if he had seen her no more than six months earlier.
“Did you have a busy day today?” She asked as they made their way to the other side of the living room.
“Not too bad, I ran errands this morning and then watched Maddie’s kids for a few hours while Chimney went to work and she finished her shift,” he said as he stopped to shake hands and say hello to some of Eddie’s cousins and family friends.
“Ah, errands,” Pepa sighed, and gave him the once-over with her eyes, as they stopped before the mantel
Buck smirked and raised his eyebrow at her and the lamented sigh she had released, “Something like that.”
As they stood before the ofrenda , Buck was taken aback by the array of photos, calaveras, and candles.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered as his eyes followed the photos of the family’s departed loved ones. He did not recognize many of the faces in the older photos delicately placed on the mantel; at best, he recognized maybe six or so faces from the years he spent with the Diazes. As he made his way along the mantel, with Pepa by his side, pointing out who was who, he stopped in front of a familiar face. It was a photo of Shannon. She was younger than she was when she died. Her youth was captured forever in the image, as it would be in both her life and her death.
“That was taken just before Chris was born,” Pepa commented with a kindness that Buck has not heard associated with Shannon from Pepa before. He recalls his first meeting with Pepa, quickly, and how she called Shannon “the gringa” with a disdain that was palpable.
“We took it at her baby shower,” she offered succinctly, as if the memory was more perfunctory than fond.
Buck picked up the photo, “She looks scared.” He could see that her eyes were wide, and her smile forced. It was evident on her face to those who may know the all too well truth of a shotgun wedding and facing down the barrel of teen parenthood.
“She was barely nineteen and pregnant,” Pepa commented, “Of course, she was scared. Also, my dear sister-in-law was there.” It was a matter of fact. Buck laughed.
“Enough said,” he remarked as he put the photo back on the mantel. He had been on the receiving end of Helena Diaz’s “welcoming” behavior a few times, and he found each time more baffling than the next. He wished it meant it in jest, but he couldn’t muster it, nor would Pepa have believed it.
Buck continued to take in the images when he stopped quickly, and his breath hitched, as he noticed another photo wedged in the mantel. He expected the picture of Bobby to be on the mantel, but a smaller photo propped alongside it caught his eye and took his breath away.
He reached for the photo with the reverence that a priest reaches for the Eucharist. It was a familiar yet foreign picture.
“How did you get this?” He asked quietly, exasperated.
“Eddie gave it to us this morning and said that it belonged on the ofrenda. I assumed you left it here when you moved out?” As if he ever really moved out, knowing that he had a pile of clean clothes folded on a shelf in Eddie’s closet, or that his casual sneakers were not tucked away on the shoe rack in the hall closet.
Buck continued to look at the photo as a tear pushed its way to his eye, “This is my brother.” His thumb brushes over the nine-year-old boy on a bicycle.
Pepa nodded and placed her arm on his forearm. He felt her motherly warmth radiate through his sweater.
“You didn’t have to put his photo up with your family.”
Pepe looked up at him and reached for his face to turn his head towards her, “And what exactly do you think you are to all of us?” Her arm sweeps along the crowd.
Buck went to speak before he was cut off abruptly, “You have been family longer than you were just Eddie’s best friend. Your brother deserves to be celebrated by family.”
Buck could feel a sob emerging in his core, and he tried to force it back as Pepa pulled him into a hug. As he gripped her tight and whispered "Thank you" in her ear, the noise and celebration around them faded into silence.
They stood like that for what felt like a lifetime.
***
“I can’t even park in front of my own house,” Eddie muttered to himself as he made his way to his front door.
As he opened it, he was momentarily overwhelmed by the throes of family and by the loud, half-Spanish, half-English being spoken in his home.
“Welcome back,” Abuela greeted as he made his way into the house.
He smiled and nodded, “The marigolds are perfectly placed.” And for a moment, he felt he was showing off his cleaned bunk in the barracks to his commanding officer, who paled in comparison to his grandmother.
“I had no doubts,” she smiled as she ushered him towards the party, her arm wrapped around his.
Eddie smirked, “Sure.” She slapped his bicep as they walked.
“Buck arrived not too long ago,” she said as she gestured towards Buck and Pepa, who were embracing in front of the mantel.
“Everything alright?” He said, slightly alarmed, “Was it Miguel? I told him not to tease Buck anymore. It’s not like Buck hasn’t been at family get-togethers for the last several years.”
They stopped sharply, and she turned to face him, “Basta, I doubt Buck even spoke to your cousin.”
Eddie’s face reddened. “Sorry.” He meant it, perhaps out of contrition, but more fear, for sure.
Abuela stared at him, “He was looking at the photo of his brother that you placed on the mantel.”
Eddie felt foolish all of a sudden for his outburst.
“Eddie!” Pepa’s voice called through the crowd, grabbing his attention.
He looked over at her as Buck returned the photo to its rightful place, and he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt; his back to the crowd, as if to hide his emotion.
Abuela pushed him gently towards her, “Go, don’t keep her waiting. I have to check on the tamales; they should almost be done if Luz didn’t mess them up.”
Eddie smiled and kissed her on the cheek as she went to check her prized tamales and dear from church, whom she had left in charge, and he made his way over towards his aunt and best friend.
As he made his approach, he gave her a kiss and a slight hug. He stood tall and smiled softly at Buck, who reached forward and pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you,” Buck whispered in Eddie’s ear softly as if he was somehow afraid someone would hear him.
Eddie melted into the hug, “You’re family, so Daniel’s family.” Buck blinked away his tears as they parted.
“Also, Tía, thank you for cleaning Shannon’s grave. It was beautiful, and so were the marigolds that were already there,” Eddie said as he turned away from the hug and back to his aunt.
Pepa looked at him and then to Buck, “I was running errands earlier, and I thought I would drop it off for you and Christopher before the one from the family.”
Eddie smiled kindly, “Thank you. That means a lot; although I could have just put the one you and Abuela sent me to put there.”
Pepa smiled distractedly, “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to have some tamales before your cousins eat all of them.”
Eddie moved to the side to let her pass, as no one was moving towards the tamales she was desperately trying to get to, and she leaned over to Buck and gave him one more hug.
“Errands or something like that, right?” She kissed his cheek.
Eddie looked confused as she walked away, “What did that mean?”
Buck blushed, “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
Eddie’s lips flattened, and he cocked his eyebrow at Buck.
Buck shrank under the infamous “what did you do?” eyebrow that Eddie would often raise for him, Chris, or both, on multiple occasions.
“Don’t worry about it, let’s eat?” Buck offered a feeble distraction attempt.
Eddie stared him down, “It was you, wasn’t it?”
Buck laughed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was you, you went to Shannon’s grave,” Eddie pressed. Buck stared at him and then down at his shoes.
“I can’t believe you would do that,” Eddie continued softly.
Buck looked at him and into his eyes, “After everything, this is what you can’t believe I would do?”
Eddie just looked at him and knew it was true. Buck would do anything for him, and he has demonstrated that time and time again in their friendship.
“Just like I know you probably called Maddie to get the picture of Daniel to put on the ofrenda,” Buck remarked gently.
“Well, I just–,” Eddie stammered, knowing he was also caught.
“Wanted to know that I was a part of something?” Buck finished the sentence with a boyish grin.
Eddie rubbed his hand along the back of his head and shrugged before replying, “I just wanted you to know that you are loved.”
Buck stepped back slightly, his eyes round and his lips parted. Eddie inched forward to close the gap that Buck had created.
“Whenever I am with you, I never question that,” Buck whispered.
Eddie inched forward again and placed his hands on Buck’s hips and whispered, “You shouldn’t.”
Buck closed the remaining gap between them and placed his arms around Eddie’s midsection and pulled them as close as they’ve ever been, if not closer. It was more intimate than before.
“I love you,” Buck breathed.
Eddie held on tighter and placed his forehead on Buck’s, “I love you, too. In this life and the next.” There was no hesitation. No second-guessing. No doubt.
Buck brought his head up and met Eddie’s lips with his own and kissed him.
The sea of Diazes and family friends barely noticed the embrace, the kiss, or the two love-lorn best friends glowing in the candlelight of loved ones past.
***
As the party continued around them, they were blissfully unaware that Abuela and Pepa stood in the doorway of the dining room, watching them kiss for the first time. Abuela reached to wipe the tear from her eye.
“I think he will be alright now,” Pepa said to her mother as they watched the two slowly pull away from each other.
She smiled at her daughter, “He was always alright. He just didn’t know it.”
***
And somewhere, Daniel and Shannon smiled, together in peace.