Mr. Padilla sounded a little wounded.
Patricia had been about to head downstairs, but instead she perched at the end of the bed with a helpless smile. “Sorry, okay? Will you forgive me? I actually have something I want to tell you, too.”
“Go ahead,” Oliver said, but his voice was still full of complaint. He’d stayed up until midnight waiting for Patricia’s message last night, but she hadn’t even sent a simple goodnight.
The way he said “go ahead” made Patricia feel like he was waiting for her to say something dramatic.
“Are you free to come over on the third day of the new year?”
Mr. Padilla’s heart skipped. He sounded surprised. “You mean come to Springfield?”
“Yes.”
“For real?” He was still in disbelief. She’d always said no before. What changed now?
“For real,” Patricia confirmed.
“Well, this is rare. Mrs. Padilla is actually letting her ugly old husband meet her grandma.”
His teasing made Patricia laugh out loud.
Before she could respond, Mr. Padilla kept going. “Maybe it’s because I got up early to pay my respects to my ancestors and now my prayers are finally working.”
The Padilla family had all kinds of traditions. On New Year’s Eve, everyone had to get up super early to honor their ancestors.
He’d been up since four thirty that morning.
He didn’t finish everything until after eight.
It was only after all that he called Patricia.
“Will it be okay for you? Won’t your family wonder why you’re leaving?”
“I can work it out.”
Nothing mattered more than this.
He needed to reassure Patricia, her family, and honestly, himself.
“I should go downstairs now. My aunt’s in the kitchen. I’ll go help her.”
“Go on, but before you do, check the inside pocket of your suitcase. I left something for you.”
That morning, Patricia opened the hidden pocket in her suitcase and found a thick red envelope.
On the front, in neat handwriting, it said: “Happy New Year. Wishing my wife peace.”
Patricia stared at those words, and her eyes went red.
Six simple words, and they hit her so hard.
“Thank you. When did you put this in?”

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