"We're in Cuba, can a frita count as dinner?" Maria signed back and gave a nod. It would make things easier if they didn't have to drag their stuff around. "Your family won't think it's weird that my stuff is there?" She imagined at least one of her parents would have been curious, if their positions were reversed.
Maria glanced down the road and back to him. "You lucked out. Or did Ernest help you find a place?"