“No, I know. Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting your call.”
“So sorry about that. Is this a bad time? I can try you again later.” I want to be as polite as possible because I’m genuinely a little surprised that he’s still taking mine or Hayden’s calls at this point.
After a prolonged pause, he says, “Nah. That’s okay. This is fine. What’s up?”
Mustering up all the courage I have in my body, I respond, “If you’re up for it, I’d love to have a meeting. Just the two of us. You can come over to my place if that works for you.”
“Oh, um.” He continues to stammer a bit, but then he ultimately agrees. “What time?”
I look at the clock and see that it’s almost eight.
“What about noon? I’ll have some subs or something else waiting for lunch.”
“That sounds great.”
“Wonderful. Any diet restrictions I should be aware of?”
“Well, it is Friday.”
Suddenly, a memory pops into my brain. It’s of my abuelo taking me out for a fish fry at his local greasy spoon restaurant.
Not being a particular fan as a kid, I picked at it with my fork and asked why I couldn’t have a cheeseburger or something else like it.
After wiping tartar sauce from his mustache, he explains, “Becausemi amada nieta,” that’s ‘my beloved granddaughter’ in Spanish, “Jesus was a warm-blooded man. So, on this day, everyViernes,” aka ‘Friday,’ “we pay our respects to him by abstaining from warm-blooded food.”
“So, fish are cold-blooded?” I ask.
“Exactly. Some Christians only observe this on Good Friday or during lent. But us, the true believers? We do it every week.”
“Okay . . .” Cautiously, I brought some of the fried fish to my mouth, and it turned out that I actually liked it.
But I didn’t keep up with his tradition, needless to say.
The recollection brought a smile to my face, and it also gave me a great idea about where to take Randall—a devout Christian himself.
***
“Tuna is okay, right?” I inquire after he walks into the manor.
“Absolutely. Thank you for being so hospitable.”
“No problem. You know, my grandfather observed the exact same practice when I was growing up.”
He has his sub-sandwich in his hands, and his eyebrow tents up. “Is that so?”
“Yep. In order to honor Jesus, he abstained from eating warm-blooded animals on Fridays.”
“Good man.” He raises his food up as if to “cheers,” and then brings it to his lips.
“That he was.” Again, I don’t uphold that same practice, but I also devour the smelly fish out of respect for him and my abuelo.
Note to self, this could be a way to keep his memory alive in Luna’s life.We might not believe the whole religious aspect behind it, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t participate in the ritual.Besides, sushi counts.
When we’re finished with our meals, I ask him if he’d care to join me on a little adventure. “We won’t leave the grounds, don’t worry.”
“Well, I suppose that would be alright.”
Perfect.