"¡Ay, pobrecita!"
There was nothing quite like being greeted by a long-lost relative with the Spanish equivalent of "Oh, you poor little thing!" Had Aunt Maria grown up in West Virginia instead of in Mexico, Ixchel figured the sentence would have ended with "well, bless your heart!"
But the so-called poor thing didn't mind. To be recognized as family without even opening her mouth was a miracle, especially since the vet had neither seen nor heard from Aunt Maria in over a decade. So she allowed the older woman to enfold her into the first hug she'd enjoyed in the same number of years, and she tried in vain to prevent tears from streaming down her cheeks.
"I hope I'm not imposing," Ixchel offered in rusty Spanish once her aunt finally released her grip. From the expression on Maria's face, though, the vet might just as well have slapped her relative with the mere suggestion. Never mind that Ixchel hadn't possessed a phone number that would have allowed her to call ahead and announce her visit, and never mind that the current hour was closer to the middle than to the beginning of the night. No, Aunt Maria was so excited by her visitor's presence that the older woman raced about her tiny kitchen for a full half hour, offering various types of food and drink in quick succession before her niece could finally convince Maria to sit down.
"I'm sorry I've been out of touch," Ixchel said at last, when she figured her aunt was calm enough to listen. "You probably heard about my parents. And about what I did to my brothers...." The vet turned her face away as she spoke, afraid of finding either anger or pity in her aunt's eyes. But, instead, Maria simply patted her niece's hand.
"A family should be together." The words might have included a faint sting of rebuke. But if so, the judgment passed quickly. "And here you are in Mexico! My favorite niece, come home to see her ancient auntie."
Ixchel had to laugh at that, her gaze locking with sparkling eyes that looked so much like her own. "Ancient, are you, Aunt Maria? I don't think so."
Although, truthfully, Maria appeared much smaller than Ixchel remembered, and more frail as well. This is how my parents would look if they were still alive, the vet thought, and was surprised when the usual veil of agony didn't drop across her thoughts at the inevitable memories.
She couldn't resist taking a second to probe her feelings as if they were a loose tooth. And, in the process, Ixchel realized that even though she still missed her mother and father sorely, she was no longer devastated by their loss. Instead, seeing Maria evoked the recognition that she'd outgrown her need for parental protection years ago.
Actually, Ixchel had worked hard to build her own life and business over the last decade...and she might not have followed that path had her parents survived past their daughter's eighteenth birthday. If you'd lived, Mamá, would I have gathered the gumption to veer off on my own? Or would Papá have walked me down the aisle as soon as humanly possible, leaving me to care for half a dozen rug rats by now while wondering what else I could have done with my life?
It was the shock of her parents' deaths, more than anything, that had given Ixchel the courage to attend college and build a better life for herself. Similarly, the cosseted youngest child she'd been back then would never have dreamed of traveling to Mexico to track down her roots, and she definitely wouldn't have been able to fund such an adventure. Plus, that version of Ixchel would never have pursued her acquaintance with Finn....
"So, there's a young man for me to meet?"
For a moment, Ixchel wondered if she'd voiced her thoughts aloud. But, no. Maria was simply showing off her usual ability to read emotions as they flitted across her niece's face, and Ixchel couldn't resist a smile.
"There might be a young man, auntie. But that's not why I'm here." Then, pulling out the cat necklace from where it had been dangling between her breasts, she pushed the trinket toward her relative as far as the chain would allow. "I'm here to ask you about this."
***
"It's a pretty charm, child," Aunt Maria began, her brow wrinkled in confusion. But then, as her leathery fingers brushed lightly across the trinket, her face cleared. "Ah, yes, of course. You've come about the goddess."
"The goddess, yes!" Ixchel was so excited she jumped to her feet and walked to the room's sole window, even though no streetlights brightened the night. Turning away from the dark orifice and returning just as quickly to her aunt's seated form, she continued: "Mamá gave this to me on my eighteenth birthday, but she didn't remember the words that I should use to swear to Ixxie...I mean, to the goddess. And now—it's a long story, auntie, and I'm not sure if I can tell you all of it, but—I need those words. Do you know them?"
Unfortunately, Aunt Maria merely shook her head. "No, chiquita. I loved your mother, but I was never truly a part of her family."
The vet sighed, reminding herself of the one fact she'd blissfully forgotten in her rush south from El Azuzul. Maria was Ixchel's father's sister, of course, not a member of the line that had passed down their tie to Ixxie from mother to daughter for who-knew-how-many years.
The vet sagged back into her hard wooden chair in dismay, the exhaustion she'd been masking with excitement finally overcoming her senses. Ixchel had been so sure that Maria—this aunt who was still so attached to the old ways—would possess at least a few clues to help the vet in her search. But it seemed she had finally reached the last potential trail through the jungle and found it to be a dead end.
"Of course, the granny of the wood has to know," Maria continued tentatively after taking in her niece's slumped shoulders.
Was it possible one last path had opened up before her? "The granny of the wood?" Ixchel repeated, trying without much success to keep the renewed hope out of her voice. This so-called grandmother couldn't actually be a blood relative since her mother's own mother had both died years ago. So why would a random old woman know secrets that had been kept from Ixchel's own tía Maria?
"Claro que sí. Yes, she will know," Maria assured her niece. "But abuelita lives half a day's journey away through the forest. And I'm too old to lead you there."
The whiplash of constantly changing emotions was nearly too much for Ixchel to handle, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. If she couldn't meet this granny after all, she might as well make the best of a bad situation and at least spend some time with her estranged relative before deciding what to do next.
And where do I want to go now?
The vet had fully expected the office to be at the forefront of her mind after a day and a half's absence. After all, the community's pets had been the focus of her life for the last six months. But Ixchel was surprised to realize that the idea of returning to her cozy little practice and to the animals whom she greeted by name no longer drew her as they once had. Now, when she thought of home, a vision of a tremendous black jaguar lanced across her inner vision instead.
Not that meeting back up with Finn was a possibility for the immediate future. Not when he'd been the one to leave without a forwarding address.
It's way too late at night to be making important decisions, Ixchel told herself firmly, forcing back another round of tears. When had she become so weepy? Everything will look brighter in the morning.
"Yes, I can't walk that far. But your cousin's boy knows the path and can take you there tomorrow," Aunt Maria continued, seemingly oblivious to Ixchel's inner struggle. "Now remember, sobrina, the granny of the wood doesn't speak Spanish."
It went without saying that the old woman wouldn't speak English either, and the vet silently blessed her aunt for teaching her the old language back when she'd been a pesky child. Perhaps Aunt Maria had somehow known her niece would need those skills one day?
"That's okay, tía," Ixchel reassured her. "I haven't forgotten what you taught me."