Page 60 of Blackbeard
Fifteen minutes later, Blackbeard and I walked arm in arm up the sidewalk to his parents’ house—a modest, cabin-style home, bordered by a profusion of pansies and petunias. By the front door was a weeping cherry tree in full bloom, branches covered in frothy pink blossoms that smelled sweetly fruity.
Hooked over Blackbeard’s shoulder was a tote bag that bulged at the seams, clanking and rattling with every movement.
“What do you have in that thing?” I asked.
“Gifts,” he replied with a shrug. “Candy and toys for the kids. Mezcal for my parents. Chocolates for my sisters, and water pistols for my brothers.”
“No wonder you’re the favorite uncle.”
He flashed a smile that made my heart somersault. It didn’t feel like the same butterflies of anticipation that came with foreplay. This was…something else. Something I couldn’t put a name to yet.
As we approached the front door, curtains in a nearby window twitched. A moment later, a voice called from inside the house.
“They’re here!”
“Brace yourself,” Blackbeard muttered.
The door flew open and Esperanza emerged, scooping me into a bone-crushing hug.
“Leigh! It’s so good to see you again! Come meet everyone.”
“What about me?” Blackbeard called after us as Esperanza led me inside.
“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you can find the way into your parents’ house just fine,” she shot back with a twinkle in her eye.
“I brought you chocolate,” he called. “With caramel and hazelnut filling.”
Esperanza circled back to grab his hand, hauling him through the door while he laughed.
“Have I told you lately that you’re the best brother in the whole world?” she replied.
“Yeah, yeah.” He pulled out a golden brown box tied with a silvery ribbon and passed it to her. “Just remember that the next time you throw me under the bus with Abuela.”
Everything became a blur after that while I was introduced to dozens of faces with dozens of names—at least fifty people in all—that I desperately tried to commit to memory.
Blackbeard had barely set foot in the living room when over thirteen children came out of the woodwork, swarming him. Claudia clambered up onto his back, looping her arms around his neck. Mario and Bodhi tackled him to the floor. Little Luisa nearly got lost in the melee, but Blackbeard managed to cage her against his chest protectively so she wouldn’t get squished or trampled.
Esperanza plucked his tote bag off his shoulder while he was pinned down. She peeked inside.
“Oh, mezcal.” She clucked her tongue. “Mama and Papa will love that. Looks like someone wanted to make a good impression tonight.”
“Esperanza,” Blackbeard warned. “Don’t you dare—”
Too late.
She beamed, whirled on her heel, and held up the bottle.
“Mama! Papa! I got you a little treat.”
Blackbeard growled as his sister stole his thunder. I laughed softly, watching the sibling rivalry play out.
I met his other two sisters, Sofia and Ana, who had the same dark eyes and sharp, sarcastic wit as Blackbeard. They pulled up a chair between them and brandished their phones.
“Sit here, Leigh,” Sofia said.
“You need to see these baby pictures of Diego growing up,” Ana added. “You should have seen his chubby cheeks! He was adorable!”
I met his brothers, Juan and Manuel, so close in age and nearly identical in appearance that they could have been twins.
