Dad explained that Esteban owned a small agricultural shed and several acres outside town. My grandfather occasionally stored lumber there.
Years later, Esteban died without children.
Dad believed the land had been sold.
Inez took a photograph of the map.
“I can check the property records.”
Veronica had remained unusually quiet.
Finally she spoke.
“Can we go home?”
Mom looked at her.
Veronica swallowed.
“I mean Manuel and Carmen’s home.”
It was a small correction.
But everyone heard it.
Mom studied her for a moment.
“Yes,” she said. “We should.”
The return to the house was awkward.
Derek and Veronica entered first.
I expected some grand gesture.
Instead, Veronica walked into the living room and began collecting wineglasses left from the night before.
She gathered blankets from the sofa, folded them, then stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Mom stood near the kitchen doorway.
“For the mess?”
Veronica looked down at the glasses.
