Every family, she thinks, should have had a grandparent that tells stories in the evenings. It makes her smile go a bit sad to think that most families - stitched together in a world overrun by the dead - won't have grandparents at all.
"If I can find a daffodil, I'll add it," she promises. An apple if she can't, she decides.
"We had five Marias hanging on our walls," she continues, to answer his question. "Abuelita Maria Consuela had the best garden though. She grew dahlias in every color of the rainbow and enough nopales to feed the entire village, which she did. She married abuelito Rodrigo when they were fifteen, in the little church in the town square, and then again thirty years later with Maria Conseula's dahlias in a carpet down the steps."
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Date: 2022-11-09 01:45 pm (UTC)"If I can find a daffodil, I'll add it," she promises. An apple if she can't, she decides.
"We had five Marias hanging on our walls," she continues, to answer his question. "Abuelita Maria Consuela had the best garden though. She grew dahlias in every color of the rainbow and enough nopales to feed the entire village, which she did. She married abuelito Rodrigo when they were fifteen, in the little church in the town square, and then again thirty years later with Maria Conseula's dahlias in a carpet down the steps."