Spanish Eyes free porn video

Spanish Eyes I turned the bottle upside down and watched its last contents spill into the glass before me. The golden brown liquid swirled around the expensive Bacarat crystal before settling down onto its leaded glass bottom. I raised the glass and focused my unsteady gaze on the whisky sloshing around, my final remnants of earthly pleasure. The liquor spoke, calling me into oblivion. The edges of the room grew fuzzy as my eyes narrowed on the singular point of focus. The rest of the world no longer existed as I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip, enjoying the familiar burning sensation as the liquid slid over my tongue and down my throat. I was long past any semblance of sobriety. I was drinking to dull the pain.....and God, there was so much pain. I enjoyed one last taste of the liquor on my tongue as I placed the glass down with a heavy thud. No use waiting.....time to get down to business. I slid open the right hand drawer of the desk and reached in. I could feel the cold steel before I looked down. I drew out the antique Colt revolver that had belonged to my grandfather. I looked at its elegant black painted steel. Memories came back of him taking me out to the woods when I was a boy and showing me how to shoot it. My father never had any use for target practice, but he kept the gun in his home for protection. I regarded the revolving chamber, smirking at the quaint idea of shooting one bullet-at a-time; impractical compared to the automatic efficiency of modern assault weapons. But tonight, one shot would be enough. I checked the chambers to make sure they were all fully loaded. No taking chances tonight. Slowly, I drew the heavy weapon up and cocked the hammer with my right thumb. I turned the gun toward myself and stared into the inky blackness of the barrel that drew me in. I took one last look at the world that had left me with nothing but pain. Then I closed my eyes and put the barrel into my mouth. It was not supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be an up and coming young business executive, a leader in this city, just like my dad. There was once even a magazine article, written years ago, proclaiming me as a rising star. I had a fairly privileged upbringing. I grew up the only child of an extremely wealthy couple. As a child, I had only the finest European nannies, went to the most expensive boarding schools and had just about any material item I desired. We lived on a huge estate on the outskirts of town and had several servants to maintain the house and the grounds. My father ran a multi-national company and I was slated to take over the business one day. You could say I had it all. You could say that, but it would not necessarily be true. The one thing I did not have was the affection of my parents. My father was always away traveling on business. When he was around, he treated me like an employee, a flunky employee at that, always demanding that I be more like him and rarely offering praise. He would constantly remark, "God, what is going to happen to my company when you take over?" My mother had her social commitments and endless pampering at the spa to occupy her time. She would trot me out in front of her friends when I was little and make me sing this Swedish song that I learned from Nanny Ingrid. I cannot remember her ever putting me to bed, not even when I was sick. She was always so formal and quite content to let the nannies do all the dirty work. Oh, I suppose my parents thought they loved me in their own way, but sometimes I felt that the servants raised me more than my own parents. Poor little rich kid, huh? Yeah, my parents had my future laid out for me, but sometimes life has a funny way of laying waste to the best-laid plans. The summer after I graduated from university, I started working as a low level clerk in the family company. Far enough away from my father's office that he did not have to see me every day, but close enough to convey the message that I would be groomed to take over. That was my father's plan, to have me work my way up and learn all the different facets of the company. Everyone knew this starter job was just a ruse, but they all went along with it anyway. I was at my desk, pouring through some reports one early July morning that first summer after graduation when I heard a commotion coming from down the hall. Usually the office was a very quiet and formal environment, so to hear someone shouting was unusual. Concerned, I quickly walked down the hall and saw a lot of activity near my father's back corner office. No one spoke to me as I edged through the rows of cubicles to get closer to the scene of the commotion. A lump rose in my throat as people looked at me and then looked away. As I approached the office door, I could see about a half dozen senior executives and my father's administrative assistant all crouching behind his desk shouting at each other. I entered the office and one of the Vice Presidents spotted me and came over, trying to block my way. "You don't want to see this, Rob." I was not going to be denied seeing what was happening. It was my father's office, after all. "Let me through," I said, pushing past him. As I wheeled around the desk I could see legs splayed out on the floor. I recognized my father's brown leather wing-tipped shoes. I must have gasped, because everyone in the group stopped their yelling and turned to look at me with anguished eyes. I looked at them all and then looked down at my father. He lay on the rich carpeting, his arm across his body like he was clutching his chest. His eyes gazed up at the ceiling, unseeing, but his face was frozen in an expression of unmistakable annoyance. It was not long before the ambulance crew was summoned and after working over my father for twenty minutes or so, they placed him on a gurney. I followed behind in a trance as they loaded his stretcher into the ambulance. I was allowed to ride in the back with him. They had an oxygen mask over his purplish face but it seemed pretty hopeless. When we got to the hospital, they took my father into the Emergency Room and sent me to a nearby waiting room. While I sat alone with my thoughts, wondering what the future held, my mother swept into the hospital, fully adorned in a linen suit followed by her driver. She was not going to be forced to sit in a waiting room with all the common people, she had donated too much money to the hospital for such treatment. She arranged for us to wait it out in an unused administrative office. Nick, the driver, seemed more concerned about my welfare than my mother, who spent the majority of her time on the phone, updating her friends with what was happening. It was not too long before the doctor came in. "I'm sorry, we did everything we could, but he was already too far gone," he said to my mother, virtually ignoring me. My mother did have a unique talent for absorbing all the attention in the room. "Thank you doctor. I am sure you did all that you could. I will call the funeral home to make all the arrangements." I don't recall ever seeing her shed a single tear for him. The next few days were a blur of activity with strangers telling me what a great man my father was. I wondered why I never saw that side of him. Instead, I walked around in a trance, alternating between sadness and fear. While I never had a great relationship with my father, was it possible, just a little, that I would miss him? No matter how I felt about him, I was scared out of my wits at the prospect of nominally heading up his company, a company I had worked at in a junior position for only six weeks. How would I ever manage it? After the funeral, my mother went on an extended trip to the Bahamas. I was left to deal with my grief and start running my father's company all by myself. I remember that first morning, gathered in the Boardroom with all my father's senior executives looking up at me. They could barely keep the amused smirks from their faces. It was ridiculous that this kid should be expected to tell these men what to do. I knew it and they knew it. I figured the best thing to do would be to keep the team in place that my father had named and continue to let them do what they did for my father. For the first few years, this method seemed to work well enough. I started to gain confidence that I could pull this off. It was not long after that damned magazine article appeared that Noelle first came into my life. We ran into each other at a bar where all the movers and shakers in town seemed to hang out. She had an Audrey Hepburn quality with her long black hair and a little black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. I bought her a drink and conversing with her, I found her smart and funny. I was instantly captivated. I was not the only one with someone someone new in their life. My mother returned from one of her many trips abroad with a gentleman friend named Tom. Tom was an older man about 10 years older than my mother. He was very well dressed and behaved in an aristocratic manner. I was pissed with how quickly my mother allowed Tom to ensconce himself in my mother's home. Since my mother could see that Tom and I were not bound to get along, she suggested it might be time to get a place of my own. I had found a nice condo in the wealthier end of town. After all I had been through with my father's death and my mother's subsequent actions, I felt I deserved it. It was a bachelor pad put together by the best designers in the city, but not for long. After several dates, I brought Noelle back to my apartment. She seemed to take a special interest in the quality of the furnishings that the designer had picked. She oohed and aahed at all the little decorative touches like furniture and wallpaper. Who knew that home furnishings could be such an aphrodisiac? Before I knew it she was in my arms, lips pressed against mine in a sensual kiss. The next thing I knew we were in my bed making glorious love. Noelle moved into my home and immediately started making her own mark. She had me redecorate one of the bedrooms to be her office and we changed out a bunch of the furniture so we would be able to entertain more. We went on frequent trips together, to Italy and the Caribbean. Although I convinced myself that Noelle was interested in more than just my money, she certainly did know how to spend it. Finally, it seemed like the next logical step for us to get married. I picked out an expensive ring that I knew she would like and took her out to a fancy restaurant where, between dinner and dessert, I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. A year later, on a warm October afternoon, when the leaves were just starting to turn from green to gold, we were joined in matrimony at a grand cathedral downtown. Noelle looked exquisite, her slim body encased in a lacy white gown with a train that trailed far behind her. She was so beautiful that day that I swore I would do anything to make her happy. I would live to regret that vow. Meanwhile, the company continued to operate profitably with me at the helm. The managers my father had picked seemed to operate autonomously, keeping me informed only when asked. I guess they figured that as long as they met their numbers, I would not ask too many questions. As long as everything seemed to be humming along smoothly, I decided not to probe too much. That was mistake number one. Without me paying close enough attention to the numbers, some of the managers decided to keep a little extra for themselves. They were skimming just enough to maintain their profit levels and keep their activities under the radar. By the time that problems started showing up on the balance sheet, they had drained tens of millions from the company. Finally, one day the Senior VP in charge of Operations failed to show up for work. As we started investigating his work, we found a series of unauthorized transfers purportedly going to a supplier being sent to a private account in the Cayman Islands totaling more than $100 million. The police soon informed us that the money had been transferred out of that account into a Swiss bank account with no way to trace it further. Then we discovered all the other money that had been siphoned off. Several executives were arrested, but without that money on our asset sheet, the company was pretty much bankrupt. Mistake number two was thinking I could earn my own way and not have to rely on my mother. I guess she felt the same. After she and Tom got married, she changed her will so that Tom would get everything of hers, the house, bank accounts, everything. She figured I would be rich enough from running the company by the time anything happened to her. She figured wrong. She also did not count on coming down with an aggressive form of breast cancer seven years after my father passed away. She passed away less than six months after she was first diagnosed. By the time the company filed for bankruptcy, Tom and all the family fortune were gone. Mistake number three was believing that Noelle ever loved me. As I said before, she really liked spending my money. She had a way of looking at me that I could not refuse her anything. We ended up buying this large estate in the suburbs that I now sat in, hiring the best decorators in the city. For a while we seemed to have it all. We had a full staff with a cleaning lady, cook and even a gardener. We tried to start a family, but for some reason, it just never worked out. I think the stress of that did some damage to our marriage. Then my mother got sick and I could feel things growing more tense between Noelle and me. When things started going south at the company, I could tell Noelle was losing patience. We had to cut back and get rid of most of our staff until Alejandro the gardener was the only one left. It was either that or cut my own lawn until I could sell the place. Noelle hated having to do her own chores. As she became more and more unbearable to be around, I frequently found myself drinking alone in my study. Occasionally I would invite Alejandro to share a drink after he was done working. Sometimes I felt he was my only friend. Finally tonight, Noelle and I had the fight I had been dreading. Due to the losses at the company, I was going to have to liquidate personal assets just to pay the creditors. I told her we were going to have to sell our home. Noelle did not take it well. She got really nasty with me. She said she could not believe that she wasted ten years of her life on a loser like me. I insisted it was only a house and that we could just rebuild our lives, but she mocked me saying "When have you ever built anything in your life? All you have ever done is live off your Daddy's money. Everything you have ever touched falls apart." She told me this was the last straw and that she was leaving me. Pathetically, I begged her not to go. "Please Noelle, don't leave me. I love you. And you love me. I know you do." She just looked at me disdainfully. "You don't even know what love is. I loved the life we had, but that's all gone now, isn't it?" She slammed the door as she left, leaving me alone in my study. I reached out and grabbed the nearest bottle of whisky and started drinking my way through my supply. What was I saving it for? As I drank, I thought about Noelle's stinging comments. The problem was.....she was right. Everything I had touched HAD turned to dust. The relationship with my parents, the wealth, my father's company, my marriage....everything. Everything that had been given to me in my life had been pissed away. I doubted that I had ever experienced real love in my life. Certainly not from my parents and apparently, not from Noelle. What was there to mark my time on this earth? Nothing but a trail of broken hopes and dreams. What could I expect to look forward to except more of the same? As I sat getting more and more drunk and reflected on the pain and misery of my life, I wondered why I should keep on going? What was left for me except for more pain and misery? Better to end things now before the vultures had a chance to pick over the last pieces of my flesh. So here I found myself with my grandfather's antique revolver in my mouth ready to put myself out of my misery. I could taste the steel on my tongue and could smell the trace of gunpowder that coated the inside of the barrel. I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I closed my eyes one last time and slowly squeezed the trigger. The experience felt far different than I expected. I felt the bullet slam into the side of my head, more like a punch, a split second before I heard the roar of the gun in my ear. I felt the chair topple beneath me and my body fell along with it, my head slamming to the floor. My mind faded toward blackness and I embraced it. My last thought was to wonder if Hell would be as tortuous a it had been described. After what seemed like a long time, I began to emerge from the darkness. The first thing I sensed was the delicious aroma of food. Enticing scents of some type of meat being cooked filled my nasal passages. Was there food in the afterlife? Before I could open my eyes I heard the crackle of flames, not entirely unexpected if I ended up where I presumed I was going. I opened my eyes just a crack and could see reflected firelight dancing on the ceiling. I could feel the warmth and floated in a dreamy haze. I heard voices coming from somewhere far away. I tried to catch what the voices were saying but they seemed to be talking in some language that I could not understand and they were just too far away for me to hear clearly. I was confused but not enough to ward off the overwhelming fatigue. I closed my eyes and floated back into the darkness. Sometime later, I came around again. This time, the smell of cooked meat was still hanging in the air, but less intensely. Something else caught my attention, however. I could hear music; tinny, far away music like one might hear emitting from an old transistor radio. The sound of distant trumpets reached my ears. From what I could hear, the music had some type of Spanish rhythm, like something you might hear from a Mariachi band. It was lilting and lively, sad and happy at the same time. I tried opening my eyes again and the reflected light of the fire was still dancing on the ceiling. However, I no longer felt warm. Even though I seemed to be lying beneath something heavy, I could not feel any warmth at all. In fact, I could only feel a chill that settled into my bones and began to shake my whole body. Was that what Hell was; an eternal inferno where one could never feel warmth? I continued to shake as I could feel my consciousness slipping away again. So far, my impressions of the afterworld were very different from what I had expected. The next time I rose to consciousness, I could feel a weight on my forehead. I tried opening my eyes but something cool and damp rested against my eyelids and prevented me from opening them. I took stock of my situation. I no longer seemed to be shaking and I felt some measure of warmth return, presumably under the same heavy blanket as before. For that I was grateful. But now I had something draped across my face that was preventing me from opening my eyes. How strange death was proving to be! I could sense someone in the room with me. Perhaps with my eyesight denied me I was better able to detect their shallow breathing. Whatever it was, my senses were on full alert. I listened carefully but could not make out any movement. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a log being thrown on the nearby fire. Whoever it was was right there next to me. "Help me!" I called out but it came out as more of a croak. "Help, I can't see," I called out to whoever was there. I could hear footsteps shuffling towards me and I tensed with a mixture of anticipation and dread. The shuffling stopped but nothing happened for a long minute before whatever was covering my face was lifted and I went from pitch- blackness to blinding light. However, as my vision began to settle and I could see, I stared into the face of a grizzled old woman. She had frizzy black hair that was graying at the temples. Dark black eyes the color of the deepest night were surrounded by a wrinkly face with a large nose and a tight drawn mouth containing decaying teeth. A large brown mole sprouted from her left cheek. I let out an involuntary scream of fright and the woman looked startled. She immediately turned foot and scooted away. My heart was racing as I tried to make sense of what had just occurred. Who was she? Was she one of Satan's crones, sent to prepare me for some future torture? It was all too much for my addled mind. Was there no end to my torment, either in life or in death? I felt the darkness calling me again and this time I willingly fell into it, hoping it would be for good. Needless to say, I was disappointed when some time later I could sense myself drifting toward light once again. I tried squeezing my eyes tight to shut out the visions. My stirring must have caught someone's interest because something settled on the mattress beside me. For a moment nothing happened but then I felt a hand, a rough, heavy hand resting gently across my forehead. I was surprised, waiting for something more threatening, but nothing occurred. I dared to open my eyes just a crack to see what demon tended to me now. My eyes widened in surprise when I recognized the face. "Alejandro?" I asked weakly. "Yes, Mister Rob. It's me." "What are you doing here?" He took a brief glance around the room. "Why, I live here." I took a look around to make sure no one else was listening. "Are you dead too?" I whispered. "No, Mister Rob. I am not dead. And neither are you, gracias a Dios." "What.....what do mean?" I asked sceptically, recalling the nightmarish visions of hell I had been experiencing. "You are not dead." "But....but I shot myself. I felt it." Alejandro slowly shook his head. "No...no you did not." I looked at him helplessly. "I don't understand." "I overheard your argument with Ms. Noelle earlier from outside. I saw her storm out but I did not see you for a while afterwards. I went to make sure you were all right. I knocked on the front door but you must not have heard me. I let myself in the front door and went to look for you in your study. I looked in and saw you at your desk. You were looking away. I was about to say something when....when I noticed the gun. You were just putting it into your mouth. I....I didn't know what to do. I just started running towards you. I....I dove, trying to go for the gun. But I ended up knocking you in the head. The gun went off. It just missed both our heads by this much," he said, holding his finger and thumb about an inch apart. "You fell on the floor and hit your head. I thought you were dead. But you were still breathing. You were not bleeding. I knew you were in trouble. I wanted to help you. I put you in my car and drove you here, to my home. You have been sleeping for two days." I was not dead. I was still alive. I suppose I should have been grateful, but I could not muster the enthusiasm. I could not even succeed in killing myself. Add one more item to my list of failures. "Oh, Alejandro. Why did you save me? I really wanted to die. Why didn't you let me die?" "No, Mister Rob, no. You don't want to die. Whatever problems you have, they are only temporary. You don't want to take your life. Life is sacred. You should not throw it away." "But you don't know what I am facing, Alejandro. I am broke.....bankrupt. I can't pay you anymore. I'll probably end up going to jail." "I know," he responded sympathetically. "I know things seem bad, Mr. Rob. I know a lot of bad things have happened to you. But you are a good man, Mr. Rob. I know it. You always treated me with kindness and respect. I want to return the favor. I want to help you." "Do you happen to have a $100 million squirreled away that you can lend to me? That would help," I smirked. "No, I don't have that kind of money. But perhaps there is some other way that I can help you." In the days that followed, my periods of wakefulness grew longer but my mood did not improve. The woman who had initially frightened me turned out to be Alejandro's mother, and she tried feeding me to get me out of my funk. Alejandro also brought me meals to strengthen me, but I could not even look at them. I was determined to end my life one way or the other. If Alejandro was going to prevent me from shooting myself, then I would simply starve. Alejandro noticed my continuing depression. Several days after I regained consciousness, as I sat in the semi-darkness of my room he entered the room. "Mister Rob. You must not be so sad. Life is a beautiful gift. But you cannot go on as you are doing. I am afraid you are going to try to hurt yourself again." I gave him a noncommittal protest. "No, I wouldn't-" "Listen to me," he said, taking as seat beside me with some sense of urgency. "I have been thinking. I may have come up with a way to help you. I can help you escape from the men who want to put you in jail." My interest was piqued. "What, do you know someone who can sneak me across the border?" Alejandro smiled but shook his head. "No, there is no need to sneak you into Mexico. I have a solution that might allow you to stay right here." "What, hide out in your house for the rest of my life? That doesn't seem very practical." "Actually I have a little something else in mind." Alejandro said. He called out, "Mama, ven aca!" I heard a shuffling coming from down the hall. The door opened and Alejandro's mother came inside. She looked at us expectantly. Alejandro said, "I think my mother can help you with your problems." I turned to Alejandro. "I don't understand." "See, my mother has certain powers. She is known as a Bruja. In your English she would be referred to as a witch." "A witch?" I recoiled. "Yes, but she is what you would call a good witch. She only casts spells to help people. She only tries to make the world a better place with her magic." "But I don't understand. What does that have to do with me?" "You just tried to kill yourself, Mister Rob. You are in a very bad place. But I know the real you. You are a good person. A kind person. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have a life where people appreciate those qualities." I shook my head. "I don't think your mother has the power to help me out of this. Everything is gone. I have nothing left for anyone." "What if I can show you do? Will you give it a chance?" "What do you have in mind, Alejandro?" "I don't know what the magic will do, but I promise it will give you a chance at a better life. Do you trust me?" he asked. "Normally I would say yes, absolutely, but frankly you're scaring the crap out of me with all this talk of magic." "But will you allow me to help you? You have to say it. She will not cast the spell without your consent." I thought about it for a moment. The last thing I wanted at this moment was another false ray of hope. But Alejandro seemed genuinely concerned about my welfare and to have my best interests at heart in wanting to help. At that moment, he was probably the only person in the world I could trust. "Oh what the hell. Sure, let your mother do her voodoo. What's the worst that can happen? " "Great Mister Rob. I am so glad. I hope it will work and you will come to see how good life can be." "I hope so," I said. "It couldn't get any worse." Alejandro turned to his mother and said something in Spanish. She gave me a penetrating look. She said something back to her son and I awkwardly lay there, not understanding a word, as they went back and forth in Spanish. At one point Alejandro turned to look at me. "Mister Rob. Please tell her that you give your consent." Wanting to help out Alejandro, I nodded my head. "Yes, I consent." I said in English, louder than I intended. Alejandro turned back to his mother, speaking in Spanish with animated gestures. His mother nodded and walked back into the kitchen. Alejandro followed his mother into the kitchen. I sat back in my bed, wondering what sort of magic he had in mind. I had never believed there was real magic in the world because I had never experienced it. It was only something in stories. The only kind of luck I had ever encountered in the world was of the bad variety. Alejandro had asked me to trust him and I did. But the vagueness of his promise scared me. An hour or so later, Alejandro and his mother entered my room. She was holding in two hands a ceramic bowl that looked older than anything I had ever seen that contained a steaming brown liquid. She handed the vessel to me carefully, trying not to spill any of the dark contents. There was no handle and the bowl was warm to the touch. As I held it in my hands, I was able to get a closer look at the detailed carvings that decorated the outside. There appeared to be two faces, facing away from each other, the hair from one morphing into the hair of the other. One face was frightful, a demon's ugly face with glaring eyes, flaring nostrils and a snarling mouth. The other face was calmer and had more delicate features. One could almost say it was beautiful. As I regarded the bowl, I got the sense that one side was more masculine while the other was more feminine. The male side was brutish and ugly while the female side was attractive and serene. I had no idea what it all meant Alejandro looked at me expectantly and prodded me to take a sip. As I lifted the steaming bowl to my lips, his mother began intoning some chant that sounded like some mysterious combination of Spanish and another ancient language. As she continued this incantation, I drank the concoction. At first I took small sips to prevent from burning my mouth but I quickly adjusted to the temperature and was soon able to take healthy swallows. As I consumed the warm liquid, the concoction along with the woman's chanting began to soothe me. It was like the most comforting cup of tea that I ever drank. When I was finished with the contents of the bowl, Alejandro's mother took it from me. She said something in Spanish to her son. He turned to me and translated. "She says now you must sleep while the magic does its work." That did not seem a difficult task as the warm liquid had me feeling drowsy. I settled back on the mattress and snuggled under the covers. Alejandro threw another log on fire and then moved toward the door. He paused for a second with his hand on the light switch, turned toward me and whispered cryptically, "Goodbye Mister Rob." My eyes closed before I could respond. My dreams were haunted by images of arid deserts and high mountains. I wandered through poor villages where dark-skinned people sweated in the intense heat. Despite the heat, people seemed happy and held brightly colored celebrations with loud music. Everywhere I went, people welcomed me warmly and invited me to join the party. It was such a nice feeling to be accepted for who I was. I wished the real world could be more like my dream. My eyes cracked open and I could once again see the firelight dancing on the ceiling. Now that I was used to it, I no longer feared the sight. I lay for a while admiring the beautiful patterns dancing along the ceiling. Hearing a noise from down the hall I turned my head to look in that direction and encountered a black mass that partially obscured my vision. I reached up from under the covers to move whatever this mass was and felt it to be fine strands of hair. Why would anyone leave a clump of hair on my pillow? I ran my fingers through the silky hair and was puzzled to feel a gentle tug on my scalp. It was only then that I caught sight of the hand touching the inky hair that was not my own. Sure it was obeying my commands, but it was totally not mine. Small and fine-boned with a deep tan color. I held up my other hand to contrast them but this one looked exactly like the first. "What the -?" I clamped a hand over my mouth as I spoke in a voice I did not recognize. It was higher pitched than my voice. Under my hand, the face was smooth without a trace of stubble. All of a sudden I noticed subtle signals coming from all over my body indicating other things that were not as they should be. I felt overall smaller and lighter somehow. The blanket felt heavier as it dragged across my chest, the nipples reacting with a sensitivity I had never experienced before. My hips spread over a wider girth than I was used to. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, as I rubbed one smooth leg against the other, I could sense the absence of a certain something I should have felt between my legs. I reached under the blanket and felt down there, hoping I was only hallucinating, but my fingers only found soft fuzz and a firm mound until the tip of my middle finger touched the soft folds of.... I screamed. A high-pitched feminine scream. I heard footsteps running down the hall, but before I could look, I heard Alejandro's voice. "Are you alright?" I looked up at him, my mouth agape, holding the foreign hands up for him to see for himself. "Wh....what happened to me?" Relief flooded over Alejandro's face. "Oh that! That's just the spell." "The spell?" I asked, looking at these strange small hands again. "You turned me into a woman?" Alejandro gave a smile and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took one of my hands into both of his. It felt especially small in his large rough hands. He gave a gentle squeeze. "The spell did. You had some very big problems, Mr. Rob, very big. There were people who wanted to put you in jail. There were even some who wanted you dead. The spell turned you into a completely different person so that no one would ever find you. The spell must have determined the best way to do that was to make you a woman." "But why a woman? " "I don't know. The spell makes its own determination. Maybe because as a woman you look about as different from your old self as possible. Or maybe that is what it felt you needed to be happy in your new life." I lay there trying to absorb all the information Alejandro had just shared with me. "Besides, If you were going to get changed into a woman, you certainly changed into a fine example of one. You may find there are certain advantages to going through life as a beautiful woman," he said. "Have you gotten a look at yourself yet? " I shook my head, feeling the foreign sensation of long hair brushing my neck and shoulders as I did so. Alejandro reached over to the bureau and picked up a mirror. He helped me sit up and held it up in front of me with a big grin on his face. I averted my eyes at first, wanting no part of the strange vision that I was sure would be there to greet me. Eventually though, curiosity got the best of me and I stared into the eyes of the girl in the mirror. Rather than gazing into a mirror, it felt like I was spying through a window upon the face of a woman that looked nothing like me. Long black hair hung down the sides of her head. Thin black sculpted eyebrows curved over each dark brown eye. A long thin nose took up the center of the face, below which rested a pair of plump pink lips. Overall, the face was thinner than my old one and at least two shades darker than the darkest tan I had ever achieved. "You have the face of an Angelita, a little angel," Alejandro whispered. I blushed, but had to admit the girl in the mirror certainly was beautiful. She was certainly someone I would have found attractive, someone might have even desired in my old life, but there was no way I could be her. I looked down at my body, at least the part that was above the covers. Long, thin arms with hardly any muscle tone draped down the bedspread and the clavicle bones running from my neck to my shoulder were unusually pronounced. Built up flesh on my chest formed mounds that disappeared under the blanket, leaving visible cleavage in-between. I gave a squeeze through the blanket and the mounds were soft, so impossibly soft. Just like.... Returning my gaze to the mirror, I raised a hand and touched my face, watching the woman in the mirror do the same. I saw the small hand with the short neat nails stroke the woman's face in the mirror as I felt the touch on my own cheek, missing my familiar stubble. All these feelings started to overwhelm me and I started to freak out. "Oh Alejandro, what did you do to me? " I said, dropping the mirror and burying my head in both hands. Alejandro grabbed me by the shoulders and pleaded with me with a passion that I had never seen in him before. "Don't you see? You have a chance to start life over. You have the chance to learn how good life can be. I promise I will help you if only you will let me." "You tricked me. You never told me you were changing me into a girl." I told him. "I didn't know the spell would turn you into a woman. Of course, that was always a possibility when changing you into another person. But now that I see how you turned out, I am thinking it was for the best." "Change me back, please," I pleaded with him. "I don't want to be a woman. I promise I won't try to kill myself. I'll take whatever punishment I get." "You cannot change back. The magic doesn't work like that. Your old life force was broken down and used to create the person you are now. Your old body was destroyed in the process. You cannot ever go back." The weight of Alejandro's words sank into me. I was stuck like this. Forever. I had jumped out of the frying pan straight into the fire. I was so mad at him I rarely left my room over the next few days, mired in thoughts as dark as any I had ever had. In addition to all my previous troubles, now I had a totally different body with new emotions and unfamiliar hormones surging through it. I was an unstable mess and found myself going off on crying jags over the simplest things. Every time I looked in the mirror I was greeted with a mixture of fascination and distaste at the beautiful but unfamiliar creature that looked back at me. Could I really go on living inside this body? Everything felt so strange, so unsure. When I did leave my room, I struggled with the foreign sensations coming from this body, from going to the bathroom differently to getting tangled in my long hair to feeling the weight of my breasts. I stood naked examining this body in the mirror, wondering if I could live as her. Starting from the bottom, I gazed at her small feet and impossibly smooth slender legs. Unfamiliar bones poked out of her hips. There was a gap between her legs where my manhood once resided that I did not dare touch. A flat abdomen gave way to decent-sized breasts that hung gently from her chest and I could feel their weight and movement. Slender shoulders led to a long graceful neck. A pretty face with soft lips and large dark expressive eyes that reflected only a portion of the fear I felt inside. And all that hair, that long, black curly hair that I would never be able to manage, that emphasized the soft hairlessness of the rest of her body even more. All these things were mine now. However, even as I was lost exploring these bodily changes, I could sense something changing within my mind as well. While I could not envision a future for myself in this body, the feeling of wanting to end my own existence was less prominent. Perhaps it was the distraction of all these changes that had overtaken my body? Perhaps it was being hidden away from the outside world in relative safety of this house? Perhaps it was the knowledge that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone who wished me harm to recognize me in my current form? Whatever the reason, I was in a more peaceful place. In the meanwhile, Alejandro kept reaching out to me, trying to help me overcome my despondent mood. He was truly wonderful to me and I started feeling guilty that I was treating him so poorly. He kept poking in to check on me no matter how nasty I was to him, until there was no longer any fight left in me. One day, he came into my room and asked me to join them for lunch, just like he had done many times before. "Mama made some soup for us," Alejandro smiled. "Are you hungry?" I felt a rumbling in my stomach at the thought of food and rubbed it with my hand. "Yes, I really am hungry. Famished in fact. I can't remember the last time I ate." "Well why don't you join us in the kitchen and we can all have lunch together?" I blushed and tugged the blanket closer around my chest. "I can't walk around like this." Lifting the blanket away and quickly replacing it, showing him how loose it was fitting. "You're right, we are going to have to get you some clothes....hold on a minute." Alejandro disappeared down the hallway and returned a few minutes later with one of his own shirts. "Here, this will do for now." He handed the shirt to me and I could tell it would be huge on me. However, it would be better than nothing. I started to lower the covers so I could don the garment, but I inexplicably grew self-conscious in front of him. "Turn around while I get dressed," I told him. He smiled and made a big show of turning away. I emerged from under the blanket and shakily stood up, once more absorbing the strangeness of this body. I wrapped myself in the oversized shirt and buttoned it up so it covered all my exposed parts. The hem of the shirt fell halfway down my smooth thighs. How was I ever going to live like this? "Come this way, little angel," he winked, smiling. Alejandro led me down the hallway towards the kitchen. I marveled at the still alien feeling of my hairless legs swishing against one another and my hips swaying in an unfamiliar way. I could feel my breasts moving back and forth beneath Alejandro's shirt, growing excited as they brushed against the fabric while long hair caressed the back of my neck. Beneath the hem of my shirt, my body was open to the world. I felt so vulnerable. Would I ever get used to these feelings? Alejandro's mother had one of her fragrant soups simmering on the stove. My senses seemed heightened and my mouth began to water at the aroma that drifted past my nose as we walked down the hall. We entered the kitchen and Alejandro's mother was standing over the stove, stirring the pot. She looked at me sternly and I walked in. "Buenos Dias, Senora." I said to her in my best Spanish, giving her a slight bow. I thought I could detect a slight upturn of the corners of her lips at my pathetic attempt at her language. "Buenos Dias, Senorita" she nodded in reply. I still clung slightly to the fright I had experienced the first time I encountered this woman a few days earlier with her wrinkled face and rotten teeth. However, she really did seem to care for her son as much as he seemed to care for her. That had to count for something. Maria shooed us towards the table and said something that made Alejandro smile. "She said you need some meat on your bones. You are too skinny." I blushed at the attention. Alejandro and I sat down at the table and Maria placed a steaming bowl in front of each of us. I leaned over and breathed in the aromas drifting up my nose. Chicken, onions, garlic and parsley were just some of the ingredients I could detect. Maria brought over her own bowl and sat down with us, but gave me a disapproving look and muttered something in Spanish as she took her seat. I looked to Alejandro for an explanation. He gave me a wry smile and said: "She says you need to learn to sit like a lady." We both looked down and saw I was sitting with my legs spread, with Alejandro's shirt riding up, exposing more than it should. I blushed as I pulled the shirt down lower and pressed my knees together. I profusely apologized to Maria who nodded her approval. Before she picked up her spoon, she bowed her head in prayer. Alejandro did the same, and although I could not remember the last time I had paused to say grace, I felt compelled to join them. During the meal, we talked about a great many things. Sooner, rather than later, we were going to have to find me some clothes to wear. At some point, someone was also going to have to teach me the finer points of taking care of a female body. Maria spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish, so Alejandro had to translate everything. This got awkward, even hilarious, especially during the latter conversation. Towards the end of our meal, Alejandro informed me he was going out to start looking for a new job. Obviously I would no longer be his employer, so he needed to find another gardener position. If he got a job, it would mean he would be gone from home for long portions of the day. I had grown used to his reassuring presence, even if I was still slightly mad at him. What was I going to do with myself while he was out working? "Why don't you help mama around the house? I am sure she would like the company," he suggested when I voiced my concern. "But I can't even communicate with her, other than a "Buenos Dias" here or a "Gracias" there." "Well, maybe you should think about learning a little Spanish. It will only help you get along better living here. I think learning Spanish would suit your new body well." I could see some logic to his thinking. I had always been pretty good at languages from having foreign nannies, but Spanish was one language I had never troubled learning. Part of me wanted to rebel against Alejandro making such big decisions about my life. He worked for me after all! Well, not anymore, but -. Then I reminded myself of all the risk he had taken to save me from my worst impulses. It reminded me of his promise to help me find a new life, a life worth living. It made me feel like someone might really care about me. Alejandro went out right after lunch, so I helped Maria clean up the dishes. As she washed and I dried, she began instructing me in the Spanish names of the items we cleaned. Bowl...CUENCO...Spoon...CUCHARA...Glass...VASO. I began slowly but by the time Alejandro returned later that afternoon, I had committed perhaps a dozen words to memory. It helped if I did not try to translate from English but rather tried thinking of the item by its Spanish name. I showed off for him and he applauded my efforts. Of course, Alejandro had no problem getting a landscaping job right away for another wealthy estate owner in town. His reputation was well known for the work he had done on my property and someone else was eager to snatch him up on my misfortunes. He was also happy to report the latest gossip he heard that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, I had gone missing and there was a massive worldwide manhunt currently going on to attempt to track me down. Little did anyone know I was hiding in plain site in the poor end of town mere miles from my former home. Maria made a quick dinner and I helped her by slicing vegetables and then saut?ing them in a pan. Maria roasted some pork and after it was done, she carved and shredded the meat and then mixed it with rice. After dinner, Alejandro decided we should go shopping to get me some clothes to wear. I was understandably reluctant to leave the house but he convinced me that I could not go around living in his oversized shirts. I did my best to clean up and brush my long black hair so it looked somewhat tame. Maria lent me an old cotton housedress and a pair of her underwear which were ridiculously huge on me but which we were able to pin up to get the job done. We piled into a beat-up sedan with Alejandro driving, his mother in the passenger seat and me in the back. I looked out the window at the poor neighborhood that I now lived in. Children played in the street. Men worked on their cars out in the driveways. Women called out in Spanish that dinner was on the table. I was ashamed to know that Alejandro lived amid such poverty while I had lived in my fancy home and that I had never previously given the subject a second thought. But as we drove through the streets, I noticed that despite the poverty in which they lived, the people seemed happy. I could sense the love between the mothers and their children, the camaraderie between the men, the joy in the music that blared into the street. A smile crept across my lips. This was life. This was happiness. I felt closer to it here than I ever did than when I had seemingly all the money I would ever need. We pulled into the parking lot of a Wal-Mart out on the highway. I was apprehensive getting out of the car, mingling with other people for the first time. I looked around and noticed that most of the people were dark-skinned and had dark hair, just like me now. Alejandro had been right, in this body I fit in perfectly with this environment. There would be no way anyone would discover who I had been. We entered the store and immediately headed for the ladies clothing. It was like being deposited on an alien planet. I had always brushed past this section without a second thought in the past. As we waded among the garments, I became aware of how large this portion of the store truly was. I was awash in a sea of soft polyester tops, lacy underwear and shoes with seemingly impossible heels. Maria started picking items off racks, glancing back at me once in a while as if she were sizing me up. Alejandro trailed behind us quietly, as lost among all this femininity as I once would have been. Once Maria had collected about five or six blouses, some jeans and a couple dresses, she directed me towards the fitting room to try the items on. I felt mildly anxious entering the women's dressing room where women of all ages in various states of undress surrounded me walking back and forth to their individual stalls. However, I caught a reflection of myself in the trifold mirror as the female security guard gave me a tag for the number of items I carried and I knew these women did not see me any differently from them, no matter how I felt on the inside. I made my way down the hallway and found an empty stall. Closing the door behind me and sitting down on the bench inside, I let out a heavy sigh. I tackled the pile of clothes that Maria had selected. I started with the blouses, which were in a variety of floral patterns and solids. I was amazed at how delicate the material was as I pulled one over my head, able to see through the thin fabric. The blouse clung to me but the material was soft and silky against my skin. I felt goose bumps raise on my bare arms that were exposed in all their slenderness. Speaking of being exposed, it immediately became apparent that my newfound breasts were pushing against the tight fabric, the nipples plainly visible. I didn't know much about women's fashion, but I knew enough that this would not be judged as particularly ladylike, especially by someone as conservative as Maria. I blushed, imagining her stern reaction, knowing there would be bras in my future. Then it was time to try on the jeans. Again, I could immediately feel they were more stretchy and less substantial than the male variety. They slipped on easily over my slimmer, smoother legs, but as I stood to pull them up to my hips, they hit the obstruction of my now plumper bottom. I grabbed the jeans by the waist and tugged them higher and I could feel flesh getting squeezed into the tight fabric. I reestablished my grip and started jumping up and down until the waistband cleared my hipbones and slid into place. What a workout! When I looked in the mirror, I was amazed. The jeans almost fit like a second skin, especially in the pelvic area. They flattered my curves in a way that I remember finding entrancing in the opposite sex. I ran my hands over my hips admiring the tight fabric as it stretched across my backside. My legs appeared long and lithe with skinny bare feet poking out from tight cuffs. My male brain could still appreciate the beauty of the girl, but the feminine influences from my body gave me a strange sense of pride in being that girl. Next came the dresses that I think were meant for wearing to church. Alejandro had explained that as long as I was going to be staying with them, Maria expected me to attend church with the family. I peeled off the jeans and blouse, both of which turned inside in the process. I took a dress off the hanger and wondered how to put it on. I could not find any buttons or zippers, so I decided to just try to slip it over my head. The delicate fabric drifted down and settled over my body, feeling like gossamer on my skin. The wispy skirt swirled around my legs, gently tickling soft skin. The upper part of the dress (that I later learned was called a bodice (corpi?o)) clung tightly to my body, accentuating my curves but was cut modestly enough for Maria to approve. The other dresses fit the same. I felt elegant as I looked at myself in the mirror and maybe even....beautiful? Reluctantly, I changed back into the frumpy housedress and carried the clothes out of the changing room. Alejandro and Maria regarded me inquisitively and I responded with a nod that the fit was good. They both broke out in smiles as Alejandro took my burden from me. I could see Maria had been busy while I was trying on clothes and she carried several bras and panty sets as well as pajamas. Through Alejandro, she told me that based on the outfits she could determine my size so there was no need to try them on. Next, they dragged me over to the shoe department where I must have tried on at least twenty pairs of shoes of all types on my small narrow feet. Although I tried some on, I was not ready for high heels, so I ended up selecting two pair of sneakers and one pair of dress shoes with a very modest heel that would be appropriate for a Sunday dress. When we were done, we went to the checkout with the pile of clothes. When we went to pay, I could see Alejandro carefully count out the amount from the wad of bills he carried in his pocket. I felt guilty for having paid him so little over the years and now I was placing an additional burden on him, but he never complained. I thanked him for his generosity. When we got back to the house, Alejandro cleared out a space in the closet of the room where I was staying to make room for all the new purchases. I was exhausted and decided to call it a night. I changed into my new pajamas and made one last visit to the bathroom for the evening. I stared at the dark-eyed ing?nue looking back at me from the mirror, hardly believing I was beginning to live her life. I had ventured into the outside world and nothing terrible had happened. I crawled into bed and after turning out the lights, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I whispered a prayer into the darkness. The next morning, Maria came and woke me up when the sun had barely broken the horizon. She made it clear to me, in a combination of Spanish and gestures that she expected me to help her in the kitchen with breakfast. After a brief stop in the bathroom, I joined her in the kitchen. After displaying my proclivity with picking up Spanish the previous day, she felt no hesitation at rattling off instructions to me totally in Spanish. I could pick up a word here or there, for instance I knew "huevos" were eggs, but she physically had to point out the cast-iron skillet when I did not understand "sarten." She would slow down and repeat instructions, gesturing or showing me the object she was discussing until I would get it. The hardest part, like when I was learning French from a nanny years before, was remembering that nouns in Spanish had a gender. Masculine words were preceded by "el" whereas feminine words were preceded by "la." Anyway, I got the message that she wanted me to fry up some eggs in the pan she placed on the stove while she grilled up some meat. When the smell of cooking filled the air, Alejandro eventually rolled out of bed and stumbled barefoot into the kitchen. "Buenos Dias Mama! Buenos Dias Angelita!" he said as he slumped into a kitchen chair. I smirked at the name he adopted for me, but I replied with a polite "Buenos Dias" in return. Maria and I finished preparing the eggs and sausages and toasted up some bread as well. She prepared a plate and had me bring it over to Alejandro at the table. "Gracias!" he smiled up at me and then turned to dig into his breakfast. Maria prepared similar plates for herself and me and I carried these over to the table as well. By the time we sat down, Alejandro was already halfway through his meal. It shocked me how quickly he ate, as well as how much hot sauce he poured onto his food. As hungry as I was, I found I could not eat nearly as fast. Also, the sausage I found very spicy and did not need any hot sauce to enhance it. By the time I was halfway through my plate I was feeling full. After breakfast, Alejandro got changed into his work clothes for his first day at his new job and came back into the kitchen before he left while we were still clearing the dishes. Maria had prepared him a lunch the evening before, so he gave it to him and he gave her a hug and kissed her on top of the head. Then he turned to me paused a second before he gave me an awkward hug as well. "Good luck," I whispered to him. I let go of him with mixed feelings. As strange as it was to hug him, it was equally as strange to miss the hug once we parted. Where had those feelings come from? I had never experienced anything like that before. Maria determined that my first task should be cleaning my room before taking a shower, which I was badly in need of. She instructed met to strip the sheets (sabanas) from the bed (la cama) and then set me to dusting the furniture and mopping the floor that had become quite dingy in my convalescence. While I was certainly not accustomed to performing household chores in my previous life, I was not someone afraid of hard work and although I was perspiring before I was done, I got a certain amount of satisfaction out of the results once the room was clean and smelled better. After I had cleaned my bedroom to her satisfaction, she handed me two towels (toallas) and packed me off to the bathroom (el ba?o). I stripped off the sweaty pajamas and stepped into the tub, drawing the curtain around me. I turned on the faucet and let the hot water stream down upon me. I relaxed under the flow as the strain of the past few days rinsed away down the drain. However the more I relaxed, the more my thoughts turned from my inner thoughts to the foreign sensations my body was throwing off. The water ran over my shoulders and down over the curve of my breasts, falling in a stream from the ends of my large brown nipples. I grabbed the bar of soap, surprised how large it seemed in my now smaller hand. I glided the soap over unfamiliar skin, enjoying smooth softness versus the hairy roughness I was more familiar with. I found it easier to soap and rinse the hairless underarms and lithe limbs. I slowed down a bit as I soaped up my breasts, marveling how their curves fit perfectly in my small hands. As I stroked them in slow circles, a pleasure began to build in my nether regions and I could feel my nipples grow more sensitive. It was a nice warm feeling that I did not want to stop. My right hand drifted down my flat stomach and I started to soap near the source of my inner pleasure. The heat continued to build as I ran my fingers through the black hair and found unfamiliar folds. I glided my fingertips over the folds until I found the sensitive spot at the top. I let out a gasp as I touched there in my heightened state, but I think the sound of the running water was enough to cover. I bit my lower lip to stifle any further sound as I continued stroking, letting my fingers drift into an opening that had never been there before. It only took a few more strokes for my excitement to ramp up quickly. Suddenly, it was if a waterfall exploded over my body as I felt a release that extended from the top of my head and curled my toes. The wave of pleasure I bathed in was like nothing else I had ever experienced. I was peaceful and contented and utterly, thoroughly spent. My legs turned to jelly as I leaned against the wall while my breath gradually returned to normal. Ooh, I did not know if it was always that way for women, but if it was, I could get used to that! Once my breathing and heart rate returned to normal, I decided it was time to deal with all this hair. It seemed to take forever to lather it all up with the shampoo that was provided and even longer to rinse it all out again. Every time I thought that I had rinsed every speck out, I would find another patch of suds. Finally, I felt clean and refreshed enough for one day. Rubbing the towel over my soft body endangered a repeat of my earlier performance, so I got through it quickly. I tried drying the long hair, but it seemed it would only dry a certain amount by towel and would get no drier. I emerged from the bathroom with a towel modestly covering my body with another clumsily wrapped around my head. I walked back down the hall to my room and saw that Maria had kindly laid out an outfit for me on the bed. I shed the towel and donned thin pair of pink panties. I struggled with a matching pink bra that I was only able to clip after several attempts, making several adjustments until my breasts settled comfortably into their cups. I pulled on a pair of the jeans and slipped into one of the blouses we had purchased, which was made difficult due to the damp hair. There was a package of ankle socks on the bed, so I took out a pair and slid them on my feet before tying up a pair of sneakers. I emerged from the bedroom and walked into the kitchen. Maria took one look at my damp hair and grabbed me by the arm and marched me back into the bedroom. She pulled over a chair and sat me into it. Then she went into the bathroom and brought back a huge handheld hairdryer and a large round brush. She started brushing out the left side of my hair, drying one section at a time, carefully trying to explain what she was doing. "Lenta" she stressed as she pulled the brush slowly through the dark hair. "Encrespar" as she gently curled the ends around the brush. Once she was done with the left side, she handed the brush and appliance to me and directed me to try myself on the right side. I did my best to replicate her actions, and she gave me gentle reminders here and there. Once I was done I stood up and looked in the mirror. Once again, I was amazed by the beauty of the woman I met there, even if I still did not fully recognize her as myself. After that first day, Maria and I fell into a pattern. In the mornings we would wake up and make a big breakfast for Alejandro before he set out for the day. Once he left and we finished our own breakfast, we would spend the morning cleaning up the kitchen and the other rooms, making the beds and occasionally changing the sheets when it was needed. After we finished cleaning the house we would take our showers. Of course, with all this hair, mine would invariably take longer than Maria's, but generally we would be done in time for lunch. We would grab a quick bite, usually leftovers from the evening before. Since I still did not have a driver's license now, Maria and I would usually walk to the local bodega and pick up ingredients for that evening's dinner. When we returned home, we would work in the kitchen together, preparing for dinner. Once Alejandro arrived home from work, dirty and sweaty, he would immediately take a shower and we would have dinner ready for when he was done. We shared many laughs over dinner and while we cleaned up as Alejandro sat nursing a beer. After we were done cleaning, we would usually spend some time playing cards together or watching television before calling it a night and starting over the next day. I do not know what it was, but there was a certain comfort to this daily routine and I learned to enjoy having a role to play in keeping this household running. The weekends were a chance to break out of this routine. On Saturdays when he was not working, Alejandro would take us for little side trips, from shopping at Walmart or another box store to picnics at a local park and occasional trips down to the beach along the Gulf. As I traveled around with Alejandro and Maria, I began to feel more of a sense of belonging to their little family unit. It was interesting noticing the differences in how I was treated as I interacted with the outside world. I could sense women outwardly being friendly while secretly comparing themselves to me. Meanwhile, the men I encountered were not too subtle in their attempts to make themselves seem attractive to me. I particularly noticed the latter when we went to the beach and broke out a woman's bathing suit for the first time, even if it was only a one- piece. Alejandro even made a joke pretending to be a little jealous of all the attention I was getting from other men. At least I think he was joking. Sunday mornings were reserved for church. It was the one time I was expected to dress up. With Maria's help I would fix my hair nicely and then slip into one of the silky dresses that really emphasized my figure in a conservative way along with the pair of low white heels that kept me from tripping while providing me with some of the benefits that heels provided. Maria taught me a little about wearing makeup and I used it sparingly. Together, we would all attend the 10 am Spanish Mass at St. Martin de Porres. The first few times I attended I was pretty lost trying to follow the proceedings. I had never been much of a churchgoer in my previous life and it had been years since I attended any type of service. Add to that the unfamiliar language and I understood little of what was happening. However, with patience and time, as my Spanish skills improved and I learned the various prayers, songs and rituals, I became more involved in the Mass. The repetitive weekly rhythms of the service were comforting in a way and I was touched by these poor people, all dressed in their Sunday finest, devoutly bowing their heads in prayer to their God. Following the Mass each week, there would be a gathering in the church's meeting room. The parishioners we met from week to week were very friendly and they began recognizing me after a few visits. I was introduced as Maria's distant cousin from California who was currently living with them. It covered my lack of Spanish skills by speaking very little and explained why I acted shy, which most people simply accepted. However, my Spanish skills rapidly improved with my total immersion in this culture. I quickly went from stilting pronunciation of objects around me to linking them with common verbs and soon I could pronounce full sentences. Maria would correct me when I made a mistake and I would repeat what I was trying to say until it came out correctly. Because I was learning primarily from Maria, rather than from a textbook, my Spanish even had the accent from the same part of Mexico that she had come from. At the beginning, this constant learning was exhausting and I would look forward to when Alejandro would come home so I could slip into some familiar English. As time went by, however, I grew comfortable enough that I could hold an entire conversation with Maria in Spanish and I would even continue speaking in Spanish with her after Alejandro returned home and even occasionally began speaking with him in the language as well. Of course, in the evenings, the television would always be tuned into Telemundo, so I was forced to listen. At first the rapid pace of the broadcasts were incomprehensible to me but slowly I grew accustomed to the rhythms of the language and became able to decipher the language more quickly. In a matter of months I was conversing at a level and pace that only someone fluent in the language could tell that I was not a native speaker. As I grew more comfortable with my language and in my life, I began to notice other changes as well. In my old life, I had never been anything other than a one hundred percent heterosexual male. I loved women and admired the female form. However, I could sense that while I still appreciated the beauty of the female gender, my attraction to them had lessened. I no longer felt that longing that tugged at your soul when you saw an attractive woman. Instead I began to gradually became aware of the stares of men whose eyes would linger on my body. After getting over my initial discomfort, I discovered that not only did I not mind this attention but on a certain level I found I actually desired it. I even began to discern that I liked the stares of certain men more than others and I enjoyed knowing when I caught the attention of a man who I wanted to notice me. At some point, I wanted more than just their furtive glances. I would imagine whole scenarios where we would actually interact. I would dream at night of one of these men approaching me and holding me in his arms. It felt as good as the previous feeling of holding a woman. The feeling would seep into my body and I would wake up many times gasping to catch my breath. There were several men who provoked this reaction in me. The stock boy at the supermarket with his dark, serious eyes. Angel, the neighbor's boy, with his boyish face and almost feminine curly lips. Jorge the mechanic with his rippling muscles that made him look like he was carved out of marble. All these men awoke curious feelings in me. I would smile when they would try to chat me up. But there was one man whose attraction I desired above all these others. But I was afraid of acting in any way that might encourage a man to take things further than I was willing to go. So the three of us continued to live our lives together in that little house. With each day I incrementally grew more comfortable looking and acting like woman and therefore I thought less about it. I took on more of the physical jobs from Maria, climbing up the step stool to reach higher cabinets and carrying out the trash when it got full or bringing in logs for the fireplace. We segregated our work to match our particular skills, Maria would cook the meat while I would focus on the vegetables. I would vacuum while she dusted. We would make the beds together because it just went easier with two people. While we worked, Maria would tell me stories of growing up as a young girl in Mexico. She had grown up poor on a farm with her parents, who eked out a meager existence from the production from their little plot of land. She had very little schooling, as it was still seen as a waste of resources to educate girls. However, her mother trained her well in the domestic arts when she was not helping out on the farm and the secret art of magic when she was older. Although Maria was not well educated, she dreamed of faraway places, including that great haven to the north, America. When she was a teenager, she met a traveling salesman who used to go through the local villages selling wares that he brought from the United States. Maria would travel to the nearby village to see what goods he brought each trip. She was never a girl who caught a lot of attention from men, so she practiced some of her magic skills hoping she could catch his attention. Sure enough, the spell seemed to work and after awhile he began to notice her hungry eyes in the crowd and began to look for her. He arranged to meet and found out about her desire to know about foreign lands. Over the course of several trips, he would buy her a beer at the cantina and fill her head with tales of the magical land up north. He led her to believe that if she was nice to him, that he would consider taking him with her on one of his trips across the border. She wanted to be nice to him and wanted to see America, so one time she agreed to go back to his room when he invited her. She did not want to be impolite. Once in the room, the salesman kissed her and did things to her that made her feel so good that she did not think to offer any resistance, even if it went against everything she had learned as to what differentiated a good girl from a bad girl. Soon it became a regular part of his visits to the village. She would visit him at the tavern and he would buy her beers and talk about the riches of America and she would go back to his room and let him have his way with her. Eventually such behavior caught up with her as it frequently does when she discoverd she was pregnant. By the time the salesman made his next visit to the village she was already visibly showing. He promised her he would do the right thing and bring her to America to raise her child. He just needed to wrap up a few things along his route before leaving. He left early the next morning, promising to return shortly. Months went by as she stared out into the desert waiting for him. She cast spell after spell, trying to lure him back to her. As her belly expanded, Maria held out hope longer than possibly everyone else in the village that he would return for her. That he would bring her to America like he promised. That they would live together in the world she always dreamed of. But he never returned. When it finally dawned on Maria that she had been abandoned, she was disconsolate. She spent her days working out in the fields, hoping the stress on her body might cause her pregnancy to terminate. She swore off magic, discouraged that the spells failed to cause him to return to her. In the evenings she lay curled up on a mattress in the room she shared with her siblings and cried herself to sleep. Finally the time came, but instead of giving birth in a fancy American hospital like she dreamed, she gave birth on the same mattress she slept on every night with the help of a local midwife. She gave birth to a little dark- haired boy that she called Alejandro. At first she wanted nothing to do with the baby, it was just a reminder of all her failures and broken dreams. But food was scarce so she was forced to breastfeed the baby while she could. Looking at this little boy, staring into his big brown eyes, her heart began to soften. He had not done anything to deserve her anger. He was not the one who abandoned her. He did not even ask to be born. It was totally her fault that he was here now and she needed to take care of him because he had no one else in the world. She would not abandon him as she had been abandoned. Maria had always prided herself in being practical, in her ability at getting things done. She had never been a beauty who could rely on her looks to get others to do things for her. Once she decided that she was going to raise her son properly, she decided she was not going to do it in the poverty of Mexico. If at least one part of her dream was going to survive, she was going to raise her son in the United States. He was going to have the chances that she never had. Maria saved up money she earned by casting spells for local folks but she would only cast spells to help others and she would never, ever cast a spell to benefit herself. She learned the hard way that she would only help herself with hard work. She worked on the family farm until she had enough money for her and her son to cross the border. Her mother's sister reached out to a cousin who lived in Texas and arranged for her to stay with her until she could get on her feet. Finally the day came for her to say goodbye. Maria hugged her mother tightly, knowing that they might never see each other again. Her father tried to hold back his tears and slipped her some of his own hard-earned money. Little Alejandro did not understand what was going on but he knew it was something important as he clung to his mother's hand with tears welling in his eyes. Finally, Maria climbed into the cab of a pickup truck with a family friend who worked near the border and offered her a ride. Waving goodbye and promising to write, the mother and son began their journey. The border town was a crowded, bustling honky-tonk of bars selling cheap liquor, stores selling cheap wares and the traffic of thousands of people milling around trying to find their way across the border. Most of them were penniless and therefore had little chance of getting across. For those who had a few dollars to their name, unscrupulous men and women mingled among the crowds trying to make unfortunate victims from those whose desire to get to America overrode their suspicion. Luckily, Maria's cousin knew an honest person with a trucking business that for a few dollars would safely get her and the boy across. After the arrangements were made, Maria's cousin bid her farewell and she sat with Alejandro in a dark corner of the warehouse, keeping out of the hot sun. After the sun went down, the driver of the truck that would be taking them across the border came and instructed them to climb into the back of an empty box truck. After finding a place to sit, the truck was filled with crates and boxes of produce including corn, tomatoes and avocados. The truck was completely filled except for the area where Maria and her son sat, making it difficult for them to breathe. The truck pulled out and Maria clung to her son as they sped down the highway. When the truck slowed down to a stop at the border, Maria knew this was the most difficult part of their journey. If they were caught, they would be returned to the farm, condemned to a life of poverty. Maria held her hand over her son's mouth so he would not make a noise, especially when the US Border Patrol began moving around some of the crates at the opposite end of the truck. As the sounds grew louder and the officers drew nearer, Maria could see the beams from their flashlights bouncing off the interior walls of the truck and started to panic. Surely they were going to be caught! She began whispering a spell under her breath that would make them invisible to the agent. She prayed that the light would not pierce the darkness that concealed them. She justified the use of this spell by telling herself that it was to protect Alejandro. An agent stopped several feet away and flashed his light all around where Maria and her son were sitting, but he never discovered them. The truck continued driving north for about an hour until Maria could feel it pulling off the highway. They made a series of turns onto back roads for a while until the truck turned and came to a stop. Maria could hear the truck door open but it took a while for the produce to be unloaded enough for them to be able to disembark. Holding Alejandro's hand, Maria squeezed past crates of ripening avocados and stepped out into the early morning sunlight. America. She could not believe she was actually here. She bent over and whispered to her son "Take a good look, Alejandro. This is your new home." The driver helped her and her son down from the truck and he introduced them to another driver who would take them someplace to stay. He explained that she start working on a farm, but the beauty of America was that if she decided she wanted to do something else, she could. Maria nodded, taking it all in. She was guided to the back of a pickup truck that she shared with migrant workers that had been dropping their crops off at the depot. The men respectfully addressed her in Spanish and made attempts to play with Alejandro, but he was too shy and clung to his mother's arm. When they arrived at the farm, Maria was amazed. Far from the ramshackle family farm where she grew up, Tangle Brook Farms, as she would learn it was called, was an industrial farm with fields that extended for miles in every direction. The farm was known for its corn and spinach, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, chili peppers, cantaloupe, strawberries and blackberries. Big machines watered and harvested the crops in many areas, but some crops, like watermelons still needed to be harvested by hand. Both the machine operators and the hand-pickers lived in small but efficient row houses right on the property. Maria was shown an empty bed with a mattress for Alejandro on the floor next to her bed. She would go out harvesting in the fields while some of the other women watched the children. In the evening, she would come back to the centralized kitchen for the workers and help prepare the evening meal. After dinner was done she would spend an hour or so with her son before retiring prior to another exhausting day. One day blended into another until eventually all the hand-picked crops were harvested. The bulk of the workers moved on to other farms further north or in California. Maria stayed on to work in the kitchen full- time for the workers who were still needed to maintain the farm machinery. She and Alejandro now had their own room due to the fewer number of workers. Maria's cooking gained her a good reputation among the workers and she stayed at the farm for many years. She also became known for her healing and magical powers that she would only cast to help people. When Alejandro was a little older, Maria left the farm to become the cook at a Mexican restaurant in the suburbs. Although the evenings were busy, she had more time to spend with Alejandro during the day. She would pack him off to school in the morning and clean the house while he was gone. Sometimes she picked up odd jobs cleaning other people's houses as well. In the afternoons she would pick him up from the bus stop and she would bring him to the restaurant where he did his homework at one of the empty tables while she prepared the ingredients for the evening meals. She never made any effort to have another man in her life. As Alejandro grew to be a teenager, he showed less interest in schoolwork. A woman who worked in the kitchen with Maria had a boyfriend who was a landscaper and suggested that Alejandro could help him in the summer. Maria was reluctant for him to give up his schooling and all the opportunity that it could provide, but she agreed it was good to give him something to do during the long hot days of summer. Alejandro started by working with the blowers and trimmers, learning how to maintain the equipment and repair them when they broke. It was not long before he was able to operate some of the bigger machinery and due to this contributions, his boss was able to double their business. Eventually, Alejandro decided he wanted to make this his career so he dropped out of high school after tenth grade. Maria was disappointed but she could not argue with the money that he was bringing in that allowed her cut back her hours at the restaurant a little. Alejandro convinced his boss that should try to find work on the nicer side of town where they could earn a lot more money for doing the same work. He helped them get their first job at an upscale property and then word of mouth spread so that rich clients were bidding for their business so they soon had more work then they could handle. They increased the number of employees on their crews and the owner was raking in money, but sharing very little of it with Alejandro and never appreciating all that he had done to build the business. Alejandro had always been friendly with the property owners, more so than his boss, and many of the clients would have been surprised to learn that Alejandro was not the owner. Finally, Alejandro figured he could make more money going out on his own, so he left, taking a crew and a handful of clients with him. The business started out slowly but before long it grew, especially among the wealthy landowners and those with fairly large estates started vying for him to become their exclusive gardener. Alejandro was reluctant at first because he could not imagine that one property would be able to keep him occupied full time. Eventually the money being offered to him was just too good for him to pass up but he held onto his landscaping business in case things did not work out, promoting one of his workers to crew chief. Alejandro secured a job working for an old man by the name of Masterson who bragged about landing him like he had won a high-stakes poker game. Alejandro had to learn additional skills, like taking care of flowers, to add to his established landscaping skills. When old man Masterson died, that's when I met Alejandro and hired him soon thereafter. Alejandro was now making a good living for an immigrant between his gardening and landscaping business. He was soon able to buy a little house for himself and his mother in the poorer section of town where they were surrounded by many other families in similar circumstances. In a few years he was doing so well that Maria could finally stop working altogether. After many years of toiling in fields and kitchens, it felt right for her to give her tired old body a rest. While they could now afford to live in a better neighborhood Maria felt comfortable in their current home and wanted to stay. Although she was only in her early fifties, she felt decades older after all the abuse she had put her body through. It was worth it though, to see how well her son was doing. She enjoyed supporting him so he could be successful in his business. The only thing she hoped for now was that she would live long enough to see him find a nice girl who could give her grandchildren. Knowing all that Maria had gone through gave me a greater appreciation for her. I tried to picture myself facing the same circumstances she had and knew there was no way I would ever survive. I was ashamed how frightened of her I had been initially. All I saw now was a strong independent woman, one who had raised her son into a fine young man, all on her own. Now when I looked at her, my only feelings were extreme admiration. Meanwhile, my admiration for her son increased exponentially as well. I had always thought highly of Alejandro in my old life, but now I had a greater appreciation for how he had built a business from the ground up and how he supported his mother and himself comfortably. There was so much love between the two of them because it had only ever been the two of them. Little did I suspect there might be room in their hearts for someone else. I had always appreciated Alejandro's kindness even in my previous life. After he had literally saved my life and was primarily responsible for the path I now found myself on, I felt a special indebtedness to him. But something had changed. We were closer now, part of the same family. He called me 'Lita and asked me to call him Jani. While I had always thought he was reasonably good looking from a male point of view, I now noticed so many things that I had never seen before. I caught myself stealing glances, especially after he had stepped from the shower after a hard day's work. Sometimes on hot days he would emerge from the bathroom shirtless with his damp hair falling across his forehead. Due to the physical nature of his job, Alejandro's chest and arms were fairly muscular, even if not quite as meticulously cultivated as Jorge the mechanic. The clean jeans he changed into showed off parts of his body in a way I found strangely hypnotizing. And that smile, I knew no better feeling than when he smiled at me. Even at times when I was still having doubts about my whole situation, all he had to do was flash that smile at me and I instantly felt better. Of course, I had no idea how he felt nor could I begin to screw up the courage to ask him, afraid to screw up the relationship we had developed in search of something more. Alejandro was nice to me when I was a guy, and he was just as nice to me now. He was nice to everyone, it was just his nature and I could not determine if he had any particular feelings for me. Besides, although I may have looked like an attractive woman to the outside world, he knew who I truly was underneath and maybe he could never get past that I was a man in a woman's skin. I had to put all that aside, however, as Maria put me to work getting ready for La Fiesta. La Fiesta was a religious feast day to honor Santa Maria, the Virgin Mary. The morning was spent in religious ceremonies including a parade featuring a statue of the Virgin being carried down the main street in the Spanish section of town. The afternoon featured a giant street party featuring food, music and dancing. All the women of the parish worked for weeks in advance preparing the food they would serve at the feast. Maria and I spent days cooking trays of Mexican specialties such as Pork Carnitas, Carne Asada, Arroz con Pollo and several others. Maria carefully taught me how to prepare these dishes in the particular way for which she was renowned. Once in a while I would catch her slipping some secret spices into the dishes and she would only smile when I asked her what they were. I had no doubt that she was using some of her magic to make the dishes just a little better. We cooked day after day until there was no more room in either the indoor or outdoor refrigerators. Finally, the day of the Fiesta arrived. I had showered the evening before, so I spent the morning working to make my hair look nice. I was now more comfortable in my body but I still needed Maria's help to finish my makeup. I slipped into a new Sunday dress I had bought for the occasion and a pair of new heels. As I gazed at myself in the mirror, it was with a satisfaction that I could not have imagined just a mere few months ago. I certainly felt more at ease now in my clothing than Alejandro looked in the one and only suit that he broke out on special occasions, even if it did look really good on him. Once we were all ready, we drove over in Alejandro's car and parked several blocks from the church where hundreds of people were already lined up along the main street. The air was festive as we took our place along the curb. People smiled and chatted pleasantly while the children ran around their parents, barely able to contain their excitement. Several women complimented me on my choice of dress and I returned the compliment on their outfits. I gazed around at the smiling happy people surrounding me. They were all dark-skinned of varying shades, the women in bright floral dresses with some sporting fancy hats while the men looked unusually neat in their jackets and ties with their hair slicked back. I smiled as realized how much I fit now, that these people had become my people, that their lives had become my life. I felt a sense of belonging that I had never experienced before. Shortly afterwards, the sound of a brass band reached our ears and mothers anxiously tried to rein in their children as the crowd pressed closer together in anticipation. Spectators craned their necks to catch the beginning of the parade up the street until the marching band from the local Catholic high school turned the far corner and headed towards us. The young people looked wonderful in their red and white uniforms as they marched in time while the beautiful strains of "Ave Maria" floated across the air. As they marched past the place where we stood, I saw several parents joyously waving to their sons and daughters walking by, while their children could only give furtive glances in their parent's direction as they kept up with their playing. The band was followed by a procession of clergy from many different parishes across the southern part of the state, all dressed in their Sunday finest carrying wooden staffs topped by silver decorations. They walked by in rows of four, row after row, for what seemed like a quarter hour. The priests chanted as they walked, alternating between Spanish and Latin. Nowhere did I hear English spoken. The crowd grew quiet as the ceremony grew solemn, with many people blessing themselves when a young priest walked by carrying a silver cross atop a large pole. Finally, I caught a glimpse of a magnificent vision rounding the distant corner. The sun glinted off the highly polished silver roof of an open- sided structure that floated high above the street. Heavy wooden columns supported the roof and as if by magic a person seemed to be perched at its center. As it drew closer to where we stood, I could see that the structure was not floating above the proceedings but was rather being carried on the backs of about twenty men. Teams held four long poles upon which sat an open-air pagoda. I could see the sweat soak through their shirts as they struggled with the burden and their muscles strain as they carried their load. Also as they got closer, I could see it was not a person that peered out of the shadows of the tabernacle they carried, but it was a life-sized wooden statue of the Virgin Mary, resplendent in a gown of green velvet with gold trim, with a train that trailed ten feet behind her. Her skin was dark like ours. She was one of us. Several women broke out into sobs at the vision of the statue and men bowed their heads and softly beat their chests. I was so moved by the love and devotion these people showed to a mere wooden representation of the Virgin and by their pure unadulterated faith that I had tears in my eyes as well. Once the statue passed, the congregants fell in line in behind it and followed the procession up the road towards the church. We mixed in with the crowd walking up the street. We women smiled in understanding at each other as we wiped the tears from our eyes trying to compose ourselves. Finally, we reached the church and passed the empty bier as the statue of the Virgin had already been carried inside. We went up the granite steps into the cool darkness of the building. The crowd filled the church to capacity and we were lucky enough to get seats but the overflow attendees had to stand. The massive pipe organ, a relic from a time long ago, played out holy songs while the priests and other clergy filed up the main aisle to the alter. The priest began the Mass, entirely in Spanish. It was funny how comfortable I was now listening and participating in this language that I had never spoken a few months back. Through an ardent desire to learn and the repetition of the rituals of the Mass, I had gained quite a good understanding of everything that was being said. I also learned to sing along with the songbook and was quite pleased to discover I had a pretty alto singing voice. Immediately following Communion, Maria nudged us toward the church exit as there was much work to do. Alejandro went and picked up the car and drove it so we could unpack it. The parking lot was set up with several tents and folding tables around the perimeter. Maria found the spot that was designated for her with two portable burners that were already set up. Alejandro unloaded several coolers and pots from the car and brought them to where we stood. For the next twenty minutes, Maria and I busied ourselves unpacking the various platters we had prepared, setting them up and heating up the pots on the burners. In the background I could hear a band warming up on the stage, but we were really too focused to pay them much attention. We chatted with the ladies in the adjoining stalls as we worked, pleasantly discussing the weather and hoping we had enough food to feed the crowd. We shared plates and napkins and utensils with each other so that everyone would have enough for their needs. Finally, Mass let out and the throngs exited the church and poured into the parking lot where we just finished getting ready. Oddly enough, no one approached the food tents but instead they staked out the rental tables and picnic tables that had been placed in the center of the lot. I looked at Maria quizzically but she just nodded in the direction of the church, where I could see the pastor, still in his full clerical robes, walking through the crowds and making his way to the stage. The crowd grew silent as he climbed the steps of the platform. Speaking into the microphone, he said a prayer blessing the food and the efforts of all those who had made today's celebration an outstanding success. He thanked God for providing us with such a beautiful day and he hoped everyone would have a joyful time. As soon as he was finished, the band launched into their first number and people bolted from their tables and made their way to the various tents. A line quickly formed in front of Maria's table as her reputation was well known. Soon we were both so busy dishing out rice, beans, stew, pork and chicken that we did not have time to think. The day grew extremely warm and I could feel the dress sticking to my skin as I perspired. But we kept working as the line seemed to stretch on endlessly. Alejandro would come along occasionally to help us change out trays or pots, but he mostly socialized with the men near the truck where they were selling beers. Once everyone had been served, Maria and I finally had a chance to slow down and have something to eat ourselves. We politely tried some of the dishes from the other tables, but frankly, none of them compared with Maria's cooking. Whether she got a little extra help from her magic, who could tell, but she certainly knew how to cook. I was glad she was teaching me. Even the Pastor favored us by visiting our table for some of Maria's famous stew. As the afternoon wore on, the band kept playing a mix of Mexican, country and popular songs. Maria and I nodded to the music as we started to clean up and pack the few leftovers away. Alejandro brought us some beer, but I was so hot that I said I was sticking with water for a while. Once we were done cleaning up, I left the table and stood closer to the stage to enjoy the music. I listened for a while, lost in my thoughts of how unlikely it would have been for me to ever participate in a celebration like this before. I came out of my reverie when the band started playing one the Mexican songs that had become one of my favorites over the last few months. "Como la Flor," or "Like the Flower," had an upbeat, lilting tempo to make up for its sad lyrics of losing everything and having to move on, a topic I could relate to very well. The band even had a young girl join them on the song to make their version even closer to the original. I found myself singing along with the chorus, "Aye, yi, yi.....como me duele!" "Are you enjoying your first Fiesta, 'Lita?" a familiar voice said from behind me. I turned around and I could see that Alejandro was already slightly tipsy from drinking beer all afternoon. "Yes, it's wonderful, Jani. It was a lot of work, but now I can enjoy it." I replied. "The band is really good, aren't they?" "Yes, I was just thinking how much I love this song." "Well, then you should get out there and dance," Alejandro said with grin on his face as he grabbed me by the hand and dragged me towards the area in front of the stage. "No, I can't-" I started to protest but Alejandro would not be deterred and with his strength I was hardly able to resist. Once we got out in the dance area, with couples, parents dancing with their children, some of the older women dancing with each other, we began bouncing to the beat of the song and Alejandro held me firmly by my hands. When the singer got to the next chorus, he suddenly twirled me out until we were fully extended before pulling me back in. The move caught me by such surprise that I broke out laughing. "What are you doing to me Jani?" I cried out to him smiling. "I'm just making sure that a pretty lady is enjoying herself," he said, smiling back at me. The song ended to applause and I was ready to retreat back to the edge of the crowd but Alejandro would have none of it. The next song was a little slower number so he pulled me in with one hand around my waist while he held my other hand as we began swaying back and forth. "You're drunk," I accused him jokingly. "I'm not that drunk 'Lita," he replied, winking at me. Dancing among the other couples, I began to feel we were almost a normal couple ourselves. Just a man and a woman sharing a dance. It felt good to have him hold me tightly and to lead me through the dance steps. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt so good it I got nervous. When the dance was done I broke away and ran over to the sides. Unnerved by the feelings the dancing caused within me, I let Alejandro get me a beer. We toasted our dancing skills and the beer tasted wonderful. If I thought I was done dancing for the day, I was mistaken. Once I had shown a willingness to get on the dance floor, no matter how reluctantly, I was the target of any single gentleman looking for a partner. Several different men asked for the pleasure of my company for a dance or two and they were so polite and respectful, it would have seemed a shame to turn them down. They bought me beers and maybe hoped I would join them for more than a dance but it was not to be. After several beers I was feeling relaxed and loose and would have danced with just about anyone. I grabbed Maria and dragged her out for a few dances. I even participated in a group dance called the Zapateado. I did my best to imitate the stomping steps of the dance and I laughed as it was great fun. But every few dances, Alejandro would assert himself and claim me for a dance or two. As evening settled in and the sky grew dusky, the string lights around the stage were lit and the band showed no signs of slowing down. The crowd had grown smaller as some had gone home, but there was a core group that would stay for the duration. Maria sat chatting with her women friends so Alejandro had more of me to himself. What had felt stiff and foreign between us at first warmed gradually as the evening went on. During one particular slow dance he held me tight and I let myself lean into him. I liked this tipsy version of Alejandro with glassy eyes and a quirky smile, and found I liked looking into his dark eyes from this angle. As I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, I could feel a strong attraction drawing us together. I leaned closer and felt him lean closer as well. Our lips were just inches apart when I suddenly blinked and sobered up in an instant. I pulled my head back and shook my head. What was I thinking? "'Lita, are you all right?" Alejandro asked, puzzled. Suddenly I felt myself in a situation I did not belong. I did not trust my feelings. I did not trust myself. "Yes, but I think that I am done dancing Jani," I said as I turned and ran away. I went and found Maria and took a seat with all the women. Alejandro sulked for a little bit but then he went off to drink with the men. Over the next hour I massaged my aching feet while listening to the women chattering in Spanish. The spoke so fast and my mind was so tired that I had a hard time following their conversation. Finally, the band played its last song and it was time to return home. Alejandro was too drunk to drive and I did not trust myself either, so our neighbor Mercedes offered to drive us home. Alejandro sat in the passenger seat while Maria and I settled in the back. We rode in silence as we wound through the streets back to our neighborhood. Mercedes pulled into our driveway and we thanked her as she handed the keys back to us. We bid her good night and Alejandro entered the house while Maria and I unpacked the trunk and put the remaining leftovers in the outside refrigerator. Finally we went inside and retired to our separate rooms, each retreating to our own worlds. Over the next several weeks, Alejandro and I tiptoed around each other, careful not to acknowledge that anything had changed, especially with ourselves, but of course Maria knew. What mother, what woman could miss the signs that were so obvious in front of her especially from her own son. Maria and I did our best to ignore the situation while we performed our household duties, but one afternoon, while taking a break with a glass of cold water, she undoubtedly noticed the smile that I could not seem to wipe from my face. "Be careful, 'Lita," she said to me in Spanish. "Your feelings are too new and you may not have control of them yet. I do not doubt you think you are attracted my son, but I am asking you to not do anything too rash until some time has passed and you are sure of your feelings." I blushed at having been caught, but I understood where she was coming from. It had only been her and Alejandro for so many years, it must be difficult letting someone else into the relationship. She knew this was my first time experiencing such intense emotions in this body and that I was likely to let them carry me away. She wanted to protect her son and I recognized the immaturity of my own emotions. I reached out and held her hand. "Si, Maria, I'll be careful." We shared a knowing smile. One afternoon several months later, I was helping Maria in the kitchen with the dinner preparations, when there was a knock at the front door. Aggravated, because I had to rinse my hands before answering it, I was wiping my hands with a damp dishtowel when I opened the door. A disheveled man in a dirty suit stuck a gun in my face and pushed me back into the house. I let out an involuntary scream as I fell to the floor. The man slammed the door behind him and Maria came out of the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about as the man pointed his gun at her. Maria caught sight of him and began yelling and praying in Spanish. "Where's Alejandro?" the man growled, pointing the gun between Maria and me. Maria was still panicking and praying up a storm while I was slowly picking myself up off the floor. "Where is that Mexican son of a bitch?" he yelled, shaking his gun at us. As a newly minted Mexican and an admirer of both the son and the "bitch" in question, I was I highly offended by the man's attitude. But my first duty was to calm down Maria since I could not even answer the man while she carried on. I tried to sooth her in Spanish, telling her to calm down and that it would be all right if I could just talk to the man. Once she began to quiet down a little, I was able to return my attention to the man waving a gun in my face. "Alejandro is still at work," I said to him, trying to keep my nerves from entering my voice. "When will he come home?" the man yelled, getting in my face close enough that I could smell the liquor on his breath." "I-I don't know. He may not be home for several hours," saying anything I could just to discourage the man and make him leave. As I got a closer look at the man, there was something vaguely familiar about him. I had been so wrapped up in my new life that I pushed all my associations from my former life to the back of my mind. However, something about his dress and demeanor brought dim flashbacks of the life I had left behind. Was it possible that someone had actually found me? But no, he came looking for Alejandro and not for me. My best bet was just to feign ignorance. "Ya lying bitch!" he screamed. "I just drove by where he works and he wasn't there." Oh God, it was true. Alejandro was supposed to take us to a movie tonight so he probably would have left early. A thought scared me; he could be on his way home right now! The man turned his attention to Maria, still waving the gun back and forth. "You're his mother, aren't you?" I translated what he asked her but I answered for her. "Si, yes, that is his mother." Satisfied, he then turned his attention to me. With disdain he asked, "And who might you be Chica?" "I-I'm his cousin," I said feeling odd justifying myself to a stranger. "Well isn't that nice," he snarled. "We got the whole little family living all together, don't we?" "What do you want from us?" I asked, trying to reason with him. He got up right in my face, stinking of whiskey. "What do I want? I want my money back. I want my whole goddamn life back." I looked at him puzzled. "We don't have your money. We don't have much money at all." "Not you!" he screamed at me as if I was an imbecile for not understanding. "Rob Westervelt! He's the one that disappeared and took all my money with him! He's the one that caused my wife to leave me! He's the one who caused me to lose everything I ever had!" Oh my God! He WAS here looking for me, the real me. The me I was before Maria's magic gave me a chance of a new life. "But Mr. Rob is not here. He disappeared months ago." I pleaded. "Yes, but I am willing to bet that smartass boyfriend of yours knows where he is hiding. They were always close. In fact it was almost unseemly close for an employer to have with his gardener." "No, he hasn't seen him, I swear!" "Don't worry, we'll find out for sure when he comes home. Now both of you, get into the bedroom," he ordered Maria and me, waving his gun between us again. We were forced down the hall into the first bedroom on the right that Alejandro used. He sat us on the bed while he rifled through the closet, peered under the bed and peeked behind the larger furniture. As I watched the man turning over items as he searched the room, distant memories started coming back to me, not just from nine months ago but going back years. Right before the whole world fell apart, before we knew that executive had stolen so much of our money. We had been courting investors and one of the groups that had stepped up was from Florida, led by the young man who now stood before me, Peter Huntington. He had been enamored of that damned magazine article about me and wanted to be a part of our company. He invested $10 million for a relatively minor stake, right before the floor fell out from beneath us. His money was as gone as everyone else's. He might have gotten back a fraction of his stake from the sale of my assets, but he had lost virtually everything. I understood the desperation I saw in his eyes. I had been there myself, only unlike me, he seemed to blame others for his fate and was willing to hurt them. Frustrated at finding nothing, he closed us in the room and we could hear him ransacking the rest of the house, unable to find whatever he was looking for. I thought about sneaking out the window and escaping, but that would mean leaving Maria behind. I did not know what he would do to her if that happened, so instead I sat on the bed, comforting Maria, who was gently sobbing. He opened the bedroom door wildly five minutes later, sweating with a glazed look in his eyes. "He better tell me where he's hiding or someone is not leaving this bedroom alive!" he sneered. In one hand Peter clasped the gun and in the other was a bottle of tequila that I recognized from our own kitchen cupboards. He took a swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his suit coat. He stepped over to where I sat on the bed and roughly caressed my face. "Maybe I should have a little fun while we wait for him," he leered. I tried squirming away from his disgusting touch, but there was not much room for me to maneuver. He was approaching me with his dirty mouth stinking of liquor when we both heard the sound of Alejandro's car pulling into the driveway. He leaned in close to me and whispered with a malicious smile on his face: "Showtime!" I was relieved that I was spared from having to touch his dirty lips, but the relief was short-lived as I understood the increased danger to us all. I was sure that sure that Alejandro would do all he could to protect us but I was fearful of us all being put in danger due to the secret that I kept. I could not allow anyone get hurt on my behalf. I would rather die than see that happen. The man swung around the side of the bed and wrapped his arm around my neck from behind. I could feel the cold steel as he pressed the gun against my temple. I could see the fear in Maria's eyes that reflected what I felt in my own stomach. Tears flooded my eyes as the anxiety increased when we heard Alejandro open the front door. "Hola, Mama! Hola 'Lita!" he called. Peter put a finger to his lips to make sure we kept quiet before tightening his grip around my neck. His eyes were huge as he kept them plastered on the bedroom door. Out in the hallway, we heard Alejandro's feet shuffling. "Mama? Lita? Where are you"? Not finding us and no doubt seeing the mess Peter left in the rest of the house, we heard his footsteps approach the closed door. "Mam-" he began as he opened the door and his mouth dropped open as he took in the scene before him. He looked at the gunman with the pistol pressed to the side of my head, tears streaming down my face. "Welcome to the party, " Peter spit out the words, gripping me tighter to make sure I could not escape. It took Alejandro a full minute to absorb the scene before his eyes. His face still sported streaks of dirt and perspiration from another day of hard work in the sun. He slowly raised his hands to shoulder level to show he carried no weapon. "Who are you? What do you want?" Peter smirked at him. "It doesn't matter who I am. I know who you are, though. You're the guy who's gonna help me get my money back." Alejandro looked at the man like he had three heads. "Money? What money do I have of yours?" "Not you, friend, but your former boss. I tracked down that you are the only person who might know where he is." "Me, I have not heard from him since he disappeared nine months ago." "Somehow I don't believe that. I think you know where he's hiding. I think you may even have something to do with it." Alejandro stared at me. I begged him with my eyes, 'don't tell this guy anything.' Whatever mess I had created, I was willing to face the consequences. I had been ready to die once and I was ready to die again. I just did not want either of them to get hurt in the process. Alejandro nodded his understanding. "You see, I talked to Rob's wife. She told me that she had a big argument with him the night he disappeared. She said she stormed off, but that she recalls seeing you still working there when she left. What did you two plan up after she left? Why were you the last person he kept on his staff after he let everyone else go?" "Look, it's no secret that we were close at one time, that he used to treat me nice, but towards the end, he was treating me as bad as everyone else. That asshole disappeared owing me thousands of dollars too. I want to find him just as badly as you. I had to get another job right away just to pay my bills. I have no reason to be hiding him. Now please, let the girl go." "No, I don't think so. I think you two cooked something up. I think you were the last person to see him." "That very well may be the case. I heard Mr. Rob and Ms. Noelle arguing that day but I didn't want to be there anymore. I went in and told Mr. Rob I was leaving. He was in his study sitting at his desk. I told the police all this. I want to see them catch him just as much as you do. But I don't think that is going to happen." Peter grabbed me tighter. I was gasping for air. "Why? Why do you think they won't find him?" "Did they find the gun?" "Gun? What gun?" "The antique revolver he used to keep in his desk drawer. It was his father's." "No, no one said anything to me about a gun." "I told the police. That's why I am afraid we may never find him. Not alive anyway. I am afraid he took that gun that he kept in the desk where he was sitting the last time I saw him and went somewhere and killed himself. Oh, they may find him someday, but I don't think I'm ever getting my money back. I've moved on. You should too." Peter began to shake. He grasped my neck even harder and the barrel of the gun dug deeper into my temple. I was afraid he had nothing left to lose and was going to take it out on me. "No. You're lying." He yelled at Alejandro. "You've got to be lying. If I don't get that money back, I am done for. Prison....or worse." "I'm sorry senor. That is my honest opinion. Of course, I could be wrong." The barrel digging into my skin hurt so much. I could feel tears trickle down my face from the pain. My eyes pleaded silently with Alejandro, begging him to do something. "Please Senor," he said. "Let the girl go. She has nothing to do with the money. Hurting her won't get you your money back. I know how you must hurt, but you don't want to be a murderer." Peter looked at me and for the first time saw the fear in my eyes. Something seemed to soften inside him and he loosened his grip on me. "No, no you're right. I didn't come hear to hurt you. I just needed to find the money. You were my last chance." He sounded almost sad. He pulled the gun away from my head and loosened his grip from around my neck. I stumbled away from him and into Alejandro's arms, which prevented me from collapsing to the floor. It never felt so good to be held close to someone. "I'm sorry," I heard Peter mumble, although my eyes were closed as I leaned against Alejandro's chest. "I'm sorry for everything." He sounded strange. I was just starting to lift my head of Alejandro's chest and turn to look at him when I felt Alejandro's body tense up and he pulled my head back into his chest. That was immediately followed by the loud explosion of a gunshot that echoed in the small room. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Maria let out a shriek and I waited for the pain to hit me, but it never did. Alejandro grabbed me tighter than before until I heard the sound of something heavy falling to the floor. I opened my eyes and turned my head and the full story unveiled itself to me. I was horrified to see a bright red circle on the opposite wall with smaller splatters stretching out in all directions. Here and there I could discern lumps of darker materials mixed in with the red. Some of the red liquid was already beginning to drip down the walls. My eyes fell to the floor and I spotted the crumpled body of Peter on the floor. His head was mercifully blocked by the rest of his body but I could see the gun still clutched in his lifeless hand. I let out an audible moan and my legs started to give out on me. Once again, Alejandro caught me under the arms and prevented me from dropping to the floor. "Here, let's get out of here," Alejandro said, reaching for the door. "Come Mama," he said, holding me up with one arm while reaching for his mother with the other. He led us out to the living room. Just as he sat us on the couch there was a knocking at the front door. Alejandro walked over and opened it. The next-door neighbor had heard the gunshot and came to see what happened. Alejandro told him what happened and asked him to call the police for him. Once the neighbor went back home, Alejandro leaned over to comfort each of us. He hugged his mother and whispered that everything was all right. Then he moved to me and held me in a tight embrace. "A Dios Mio!" he whispered into my ear. " I was so scared I was going to lose you!" "I was scared too!" I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Thank you. Thank you for talking him out of it. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for not giving me up." "There is nothing to give up. You are not Mr. Rob any more. He is long gone. You're no one else but 'Lita now." He hugged me again and chased away the chill that had run through my body from the moment of that fatal shot. The neighbor returned to the front door and Alejandro went over to speak with him. Maria and I clung to each other tightly, comforting ourselves that we had survived this ordeal. Five minutes later we could hear the sirens approach. The outside of the house exploded in squealing tires, slamming doors, blaring police radios and the murmur of curious onlookers. I could hear Alejandro speaking in English to someone outside and a few moments later, he led two young police officers into the living room. The officers took a look around the room, nodding to Maria and me on the couch and followed Alejandro down the hallway towards his bedroom. They returned a few minutes later and I could hear one of the policemen calling into his radio for the Medical Examiner. The other officer came to where Maria and I were sitting. "Sorry, ma'am, were going to need you to clear the house. This is a crime scene now." I nodded and translated what the officer said to Maria. We arose and followed the officer out of the house. My eyes had difficulty adjusting to the bright afternoon sunlight that shone into my eyes, but I was amazed at the zoo that had erupted on the street as numerous emergency vehicles, neighbors and even a news truck were all crowded around our little house. They all looked at us emerging from the house. The officer led us to a police SUV where we sat in the open hatch. A young woman came along and draped blankets over our shoulders. Sitting in the back of that police vehicle, the full weight of what happened settled over me. A man had violently died right in front of me. I had not noticed it before, but there were streaks of the man's blood splashed across the bottom of my bare legs. That man had pressed a loaded gun against my temple and I was one finger twitch away from being dead on that bedroom floor as well. A chill ran through me despite the warmth of the day and I pulled the blanket tighter as I stroked my dark hair. I thought about Peter's body lying on the floor with part of his head gone and tears filled my eyes. That could have been me in another life, should have been me. I pictured myself as the one lying dead on the floor of my study if Alejandro had not interceded and saved me. I thought of all the ways my life had changed over the past few months, how wonderful life had become since I was given a second chance. Poor Peter would never have that second chance. I sat there quietly weeping with only Maria to comfort me through her own tears. Finally, after I don't know how long, Alejandro came over to the vehicle accompanied by the female detective. He could see how upset I was and gave me a big hug, which made me feel a little better. "We need to go down to the police station," he said. "They are going to need to take statements from all of us. Then we are going to need to stay somewhere else for a few days." The female detective escorted the three of us to her car and drove us down to the police station. It took several more hours for them to take statements individually from each of us. I had a particularly difficult time answering their questions without the images of Peter holding a gun to my head or blowing his head off causing me to dissolve in tears. Finally, by the time we were done it was night out. The detective drove us to a local La Quinta hotel where we got a room with two double beds. Maria and I shared one and Alejandro took the other. We were all so exhausted and drained from the day but we found it difficult to sleep as images of the ordeal kept running through our mind. Finally, after one of the longest days of my life, exhaustion won out and I was the last to drift off to a troubled sleep around 3 in the morning. Epilogue The months that followed felt like I was in a hypnotic trance. We needed to spend several weeks at the hotel because our house was considered a crime scene. Alejandro would go out to work during the day, but Maria and I were left with little to do other than to watch Telemundo or occasionally walk to some of the nearby stores along the highway. When we were finally allowed back, the cleaning company the police hired had removed any trace of Peter from our home. But no matter how carefully they had cleaned, the house could never be clean enough for Maria and me. We scrubbed every inch of the house from top to bottom and once we were done, we did the whole thing over again. Understandably, Alejandro did not feel comfortable sleeping in that bedroom again, so he slept on the couch. Once we were done cleaning the house, Maria and I pored ourselves into our cooking, trying to rid any bad spirits in the house with the scents of our delicious labors. Maria taught me how to make even more types of Mexican dishes such as Tortas, Pollo Arroyjo and Hot Pepper Steak. We worked in the kitchen like fiends and finally life slowly started to seem to return to normal. Alejandro would come home from work and once again we would all share dinner. Evenings were spent watching television or hanging outside the house, either by ourselves or with neighbors. Although we appeared to be living normally, there was still a cloud that hung over us all. You could tell that each of us carried burdens from that day in our minds, but we never discussed what happened or how we felt about it. We all buried ourselves in our daily work and that is how we coped. One night we were sitting watching television as usual when Maria dozed off in her chair after a particularly hot day of working around the house. Alejandro bundled her off to bed and then came back to the living room and suggested that we sit out on the patio. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge on the way out and we sat sipping the cool liquid in the sultry evening air. From a few houses away, we could hear the tinny sound of Spanish music coming from some neighbor's radio. I marveled at the beauty of the world as we stared up looking at the stars filling the nighttime sky. ""Lita, are you happy here?" Alejandro asked out of the blue. "Huh?" I asked, shaken from my reverie. "I mean, are you happy with your life here? It's been almost a year and I want to make sure you are in a good place now, especially after everything that happened." I reached up and self-consciously played with my long hair. I tried to reflect on all the ways my life had changed over the last year and my mind could not encompass them all. "Sure Jani, I am definitely happier now" I said, contemplating the top of the bottle in my hand. "I mean, it has been very strange, I feel like a completely different person in a different life. You and your mother have been so wonderful to me. You have both been so good to me." "That's good," Alejandro said. "You deserve to be happy and to be treated well. You have always been a good person. I have always told you that." "Yes and I appreciate all you have done for me, I really do. It's just....." "Just what?" he asked. "It's just that I feel like I have nothing to give you. I feel like you have given me so much but I cannot give you anything in return. Sometimes I feel I am imposing on your family." "Are you kidding? With all the help you are giving Mama with the housework. It means so much to me that she has someone to help her so she can take it a little easier, someone to talk to. As you can see, she is a workaholic and it is tough to get her to stop working, but you have helped her by lightening her load. And I have never seen Mama so happy. I guess she likes having a girl around the house. For so many years it has only been me and her." "I'm glad I can help and all, but I don't feel like I am doing all that much. You saved my life after all. Maybe I can go out and get a job and contribute a little something toward household expenses." "Don't worry yourself, 'Lita. I am earning enough to keep us all comfortable. I just want you to help take care of my Mama. That would make me happy." "Really?" "Yes. And I don't want you worrying about imposing on the family. Over the past few months, you have become family. You are one of us now. I hope you will always feel that way." "Oh Jani," I choked up, tears welling in my eyes. " You've been just too good to me." Alejandro stood and stepped over to my chair. Even in the darkness, I could see as he extended his arm to me and putting my hand in his he pulled me into a standing position. I only came up to chest level now so crooked my neck and saw the moonlight shine off the sweat on his forehead. I looked deep into the dark shadows of where his eyes should be, but I could see nothing. "My dear Angelita, I so much want to show you how good I can be to you." Slowly, I could see the shadow of his head approach mine and I felt his warm lips close in. I was unsure how to respond, but I could feel his lips searching, so I leaned into him and returned his kiss. We melted into each other as I wrapped my arms around him and he pulled me in closer to him. All sights and sounds ceased to exist for a few magical moments except for the complete awareness of each other. As our lips pulled apart, I immediately broke down in tears. Alejandro continued to hold me close. "'Lita, what's the matter?" I sniffled, trying to compose myself. "I-I've wanted this for so long but I couldn't tell you. I was afraid you weren't attracted to me." I could hear him sigh with relief. "Of course I have been attracted to you, 'Lita. Since the very beginning. I just wasn't sure if you were ready. There is one thing that you can do that will make me the happiest man on earth. Will you always stay with me.....as my wife?" I dissolved in a puddle of tears as a wave of happiness enveloped me as never before. Between my tears, I was able to croak out a husky "Yes!" He wiped away my tears with his thumbs and then he lowered his lips to mine for a slow passionate kiss. I don't know if they were real or just in my mind, but I heard fireworks explode in the nighttime sky. That night, Alejandro did not need to sleep on the couch. Tiptoeing down the hall, I held his hand and guided him to my bedroom. By only the streetlight that came through the window, we slowly undressed each other. His muscular body felt so hard against my softness. His hands were rough but his touch was gentle. I could feel his rising manhood brushing up against me and I gently took it in my hand. We shared long deep kisses before he laid me down on the bed. He climbed on top of me and for a moment I was so scared, but his reassuring kisses told me there was nothing to be afraid of. He kissed me all over my body. He gently fondled my breasts, which lit up little fires all over my body. He rubbed himself over me until my legs spread involuntarily to welcome him in. I was so wet with anticipation that he only had to push two or three times to fully enter me. As we gently rocked back and forth, I finally experienced the difference between just having sex and really making love. By the time Jani was done with me that night, the fireworks I saw were all inside my own head. After that night, nothing was the same between us. Having expressed our love for one another, there was no reason to hide it anymore. We held hands like silly young lovers, strolling down the street. We would gaze into each other's eyes, searching for the spark that was meant only for us. I would melt in his arms as we would clasp in a passionate embrace. Maria would roll her eyes at us, but she smiled just the same, knowing our feelings were real. I could not believe that I could embrace these feelings so easily, feelings that I never knew existed, either in my old life or new. That I was beautiful. That I was wanted. That I was loved. Two weeks later was the one-year anniversary of my becoming Angelita, my "Birthday". Maria baked me a chocolate cake bearing one giant candle and she and Alejandro sang to me a hearty round of "Feliz Cumpleanos." When they finished singing, Alejandro called out, "Make a wish, 'Lita!" I paused a moment, looking at the glowing candle and reflecting on everything that had occurred over the past year. I never could have believed one year ago that I would ever feel this happy, that I would be part of a wonderful family and that I would be in love with a beautiful man who made me feel so loved. Sure, not everything in the past year had been pleasant, but when is life always perfect? There are always challenges in life and the key is to face those challenges along with the support of the people who love you. I learned that lesson over the past year and I would not change a moment of it to arrive at this outcome. So as I stared into the candle's flame, grateful for all the blessings that had come into my life, I thanked God and wished for nothing more than to always be a part of this family. Then with a smile on my lips, I closed my eyes and blew out the candle. # # #