"Shit! It's Aunt Sophie!"
Before I can ask what's wrong with Aunt Sophie, a short, pudgy little woman comes rushing up with her arms outstretched.
"Manuel! Oh Manuel! Querido niño! Come here and give your auntie a big hug!"
I watch, my hand covering my mouth to keep the giggles back as Manny is grabbed and rocked back and forth by this tiny woman. He's blushing like crazy and rolling his eyes at me.
"Aunt Sophia, hello, long time no see!" He tries to untangle himself, and then his aunt steps back and grabs both of his cheeks between her fingers and squeezes. "
"Niño tonto!"
I think she's scolding him for not coming around or something.
"Ow, Auntie, please, the cheeks!" Manny scowls and gently pushes her hands away.
"Where have you been keeping yourself?" She finally notices me standing there. "Oh, and who is this lovely girl? Is this your amante, Manuel?"
Manny's scowl deepens, and I wonder what "amante" means? I wish I'd taken Spanish, but I only know French.
"No, she's just a friend, Auntie. Taryn, this is my crazy Aunt Sophia, Aunt Sophia, this is Taryn."
She slaps Manny playfully on the arm. "Oh, so I'm loco, am I? You are lucky I love you so much!" She turns back to me. "Don't believe a word he says, mi querida! He's such a naughty boy!"
Manny pulls me away from his aunt. "Do you know where Abuelo is? I want to introduce him to Taryn."
"Oh, he's on the patio over there, in the shade." Sophia waves us away. "Nice to meet you, Taryn!" She calls after me.
Manny hurries me across the dusty courtyard, dodging the party-goers.
"Sorry about that. They always go for my damn cheeks, my aunties." He smiles grimly as I laugh.
"She's cute. Everyone looks like their having such a fun time!"
I look around at the festive decorations hanging from the walls and the house, everything in the green, white, and red of Mexico. There are wonderful smells coming from a corner where smoke is drifting around as a man and a woman fry fresh tortilla's and cook meat for tacos.
A band is setting up in another corner, near a wooden dance floor, and in another spot is a very large bar covered in bottles of Tequila and cans of beer. Little children are running around waving handheld Mexican fans while a group of older children are bashing at a pinata hanging from a tree. It looks like the most fun party I've ever been to.
Manny grabs my hand again, pulling me over to the patio where an old man sits on a couch, a blanket over his lap. His face is very wrinkled, and his dark eyes are sunken into his head, but he smiles and suddenly looks much younger.
Manny approaches him almost reverently, kneeling at his side and taking his hands in his.
"Abuelo, Happy Birthday!" He leans over and kisses his grandfather's cheek, and they embrace warmly.
"Manuel, mi nieto! Usted vino, usted vino." Manny's grandfather strokes his hair lovingly and then allows him to sit back, looking up at me, then back at his grandson. "Usted ha traído un invitado?"
Manny looks at me and smiles. "Abuelo, this is my friend. Mi amigo, Taryn. Taryn, this is my grandfather."
I hold my hand out and give the older man a gentle smile. "Hello, I uh, don't speak Spanish, I'm sorry. But Happy Birthday!"
Manny's grandfather smiles back at me and looks at Manny.
"Dale las gracias. Ella es muy bonita."
"Uh, grandpa says to tell you thank you, and that you are very pretty." Manny chuckles softly.
"Aw, tell him thank you back! Or how do I say it?"
"You say 'muchas gracias,'" Manny instructs me.
I look back at his grandfather. "Muchas gracias, Sir."
Manny stands up, and his grandfather beams at me and nods his head before rattling off a bunch more Spanish and gesturing at his grandson.
Manny laughs and holds up his hands. "Bueno, bueno! Voy a ella algo de comida ahora!"
We wave at his grandfather, and Manny leads me away.
"He told me to get you some food!"
We laugh, and my stomach growls.
"Food sounds wonderful! And those tacos smell wonderful!" I tell him.
Manny gives me a grin and puts his arm back around my waist, pulling me against his side.
"They sure do. Let's go stuff our faces, Mexican style!"
The tacos are amazing, better than what we serve at Taco, Taco, Taco, because these are authentic, with tender cuts of steak and chicken and a bunch of fresh vegetables, not just lettuce, tomato, and onion. I want to eat like twelve, but I don't want Manny to think I'm a pig, so I keep it at two.
Manny is stuffing his face and sneaks us a couple margarita's when no one is looking. He has loosened up a shit ton, and I almost don't recognize him. He's smiling and laughing and yelling at his tons of cousins and uncles and aunties. He has his arm around my shoulders most of the time, and it feels really nice. Not like that smothering Patrick.
I wind my arm around his waist as the band starts up, and he leans down and kisses me on the lips.
Earlier I met his "Abuela", his grandma. She is housebound, and Manny took me inside to see her, but she didn't really see us. Manny explained she'd had a stroke a few years ago and now has Alzheimer's. She just laid in her hospital bed in the living room, small and old and grey but without the twinkling smile of her husband. I stood there quietly while Manny bent over the bed to kiss her, whispering something to her in Spanish. He told me later that he was praying for her.
The sun has gone down now, and the party is in full swing. Someone has helped Manny's grandfather from the patio to the yard so he can watch the dancing from his lounge chair.
The men are crowded
