Re: [AyB. Cris y Mari]
Cristián hadn't gone off on impulse either, huh? It mighta looked that way, but that was the point. Nah, see, 'cause he'd already read through the conversations "Mari L." was having on the forums, least where they were public. Course it occurred to him that this was nothing but coincidence. Maybe Mari's own certainty came from within, huh? Something bigger than the botha them. But, Cris had been a detective too long to leave it up to fate to offer any kinda revelation. He'd looked through somea the public records at town hall, after he'd seen the name Marisol Lagos associated with Lou's old shop. The name had immediately sprung out at him, 'cause he knew it, huh? Magda y Marisol. Elisa (and Emilia) had talked every weekend to her papi y hermanitas. More than a handfulla times, Cris had been there, instructed to give his hello to the family that was an assumed extensiona him as much as Elisa. And, while he mighta been involved in some shady shit, Cris was still a good Cuban boy. Sundays he had dinner with the Lagos'—no matter how off or on he was with Elisa. Course that all stopped when she killed herself, 'cause Cris couldn't face anya 'em after that. He had a hard time believing it had even happened, even though he'd been right there.
Which is the real long-winded say, yeah, nah, he didn't have no doubt either. Pero, he wasn't a trusting guy. He knew Marisol was here, for him, huh? To get something. Or ask something. He knew when somebody was on a mission.—Still, he agreed to meet la nena. Not blind or nothing like that, but with his eyes as open as they could be. He didn't dress for no special occasion. Teresa and Joey were with the vieja next door, and Cris had told her, huh? This wasn't gonna take long.
He came into the shop, familiar in its dust and clutter, but that was about it. Familiar in the waya Lou, I mean. Course the rest was familiar to him, but it was displaced. From some lil bodega in the Bronx, to Repose. Cris lifted his hand, the one with a brown paper bag in it, and rubbed his nose with his knuckles, just outside the door. Then came in, leading with his shoulder. And there she was, huh? Through all the furor. Mari Lagos, the ghosta her sister she'd barely even known. Cris didn't so much as falter. He smiled his sonrisa perfecta. She'd be immune to that kinda charm. He already knew it. Elisa had been too. It didn't matter. "Te traigo el desayuno," he said as he came toward the register and the girl.