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Castillo found his voice.

“What you have to understand, Randy,” he said as he walked to the boy, “is that you’re surrounded by strange people who hug and kiss each other.”

Svetlana freed the boy, who then extended his hand to Castillo.

“Pay attention,” Castillo said. “We shake hands with people we don’t like. We hug and kiss people we like.”

He put his arms around the boy.

“Sometimes, if we’re related to them,” Castillo said, “we even have to hug and kiss ugly fat people like the one in the door.”

Fernando Manuel Lopez was now in the doorway to the foyer. And so was María Lopez, who did not like Carlos Guillermo Castillo very much in the first place, and whose facial expression showed she really disliked his characterization of her husband as fat and ugly.

Castillo kissed Randy’s cheek and hugged him. The boy hugged back and then gave him the same sort of peck on the cheek he’d given Svetlana.

Castillo’s heart jumped.

Don’t blow this by pushing it.

He let the boy go.

“Sorry it didn’t work, Fernando,” Castillo said.

“What didn’t work, Gringo?”

“The plastic surgery. You’re even uglier than before.”

“Jesus Christ, Gringo!” Fernando said, shaking his head. Then he embraced Castillo.

“Don’t blaspheme, Fernando,” Doña Alicia Castillo said as she came through the door. “And ...”

“... don’t call Carlos ‘Gringo,’” Fernando and Castillo finished for her in chorus.

The boy laughed.

Castillo embraced his grandmother.

“You could have let us know you were coming,” she said, and then she spotted Svetlana and went quickly to her and kissed her.

“I’m so glad to see you, my dear,” Doña Alicia said.

Then she moved to Barlow, Uncle Remus, and Lester, and kissed each of them. Every one seemed delighted to see everyone else except Mrs. María Lopez.

And now there was someone else in the foyer.

“How are you, General?” Castillo said as he advanced on Major General Harold F. Wilson, USA (Retired), with his hand extended.

That didn’t work, either. General Wilson wrapped his arms around Charley and hugged him.

“Pay attention, Randy,” Castillo said.

“I thought I heard a jet flying a little low over here,” General Wilson said. “That was you?”

“A Cessna Mustang,” Castillo said. “Great little airplane.”

“Am I going to get to fly it?” Randy asked. “I flew the Lear here from San Antonio. I mean really flew it. Took it off, navigated cross-country, and landed it.”

Castillo knew the boy was telling the truth when he saw the look on María’s face. Clearly, she regarded fourteen-year-old boys flying as co-pilot of anything more complicated than a tandem bicycle as one more proof of the insanity of the family into which she had made the mistake of marrying.


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