“Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

  “I feel fantastic,” I tell her.

  She frowns just slightly, then lowers her voice. “You seem to be handling this thing with Ryan and Shelby well. Are you okay with how it's going?”

  I smile. “Ryan is my good friend,” I say. “I'm cool.”

  She gives me a little hug. “Good for you.”

  Then she goes to get dressed. But even after she comes out, we still haven't heard a word from Shelby. “Do you think we should wake her?” I ask as Sid and I eat a light breakfast of juice and toast.

  Sid glances at her watch. “Maybe.” Then she offers to do the deed while I put away our breakfast things. I catch myself wishing Shelby has changed her mind about going with us today. But no such luck.

  “Oh, I must've slept in,” Shelby says as she comes in and pours herself a cup of coffee, slopping part of it on the counter. “Let me grab a shower, and I'll be ready to go.”

  She disappears back into her room, and Sid and I sit down to wait. But it's already ten, and I remember that Francesca is meeting us here. “I better go see if I can find her,” I tell Sid.

  “I'll wait here for Shelby,” she says. “Tell the guys we'll be along shortly.”

  So I grab my straw cowboy hat and head outside and walk around the parking lot until I spot Francesca sitting on a stone bench in one of the pretty garden areas. I can tell she's not all that comfortable being here, although I'm not sure why, but I go straight to her and apologize for being late. Soon the guys join us. I introduce her and explain that Sid and Shelby will be along shortly

  Ian has a couple of maps, which he shows us, but the route looks pretty straightforward. Basically you just head north and stay on the main highway.

  “Ian said it's okay for me to drive the Jeep,” says Ryan. “That way he can ride with Sid.”

  “But I thought you had to be twenty-three or something,” I say.

  “We're all right,” says Ian. “The rental agency we used only required the driver to be twenty-one, and we signed Ryan up.”

  “I promised to drive carefully,” says Ryan with a wink. “No speeding or driving on the wrong side of the road like they do in Ireland.”

  “You'll probably do a better job of it than me,” says Ian, “what with that staying on the right side of the road business.”

  “You girls want to ride with me?” Ryan asks Francesca and me.

  “I guess so,” I say. Now I'm thinking this is a nice little twist. But I'm also thinking the backseat might be a little crowded. Still, if there are only three of us, it might not be so bad. And I'm guessing Francesca will be more comfortable in back, which means I can sit up front with Ryan. Okay, I guess I'm still hoping Shelby won't make it.

  But that's not the case. It's nearly ten thirty by the time Sid and Shelby join us. Shelby, as usual, looks totally great. She has on a very short pair of khaki shorts and a tight-fitting orange tank top that shows off her midruf. If she has a hangover, she sure knows how to hide it. I introduce her to Francesca, whom Shelby seems to eye with a bit of suspicion—perhaps because Francesca's so pretty or perhaps because she's not dressed very fashionably in her simple denim skirt and plain white blouse. But I think Francesca and I look like we go together. I'm wearing baggy denim shorts and a white T-shirt.

  Naturally, Shelby wants to ride in the Jeep with us. “This looks like fun,” she says. “Are we taking the top down?”

  “You might want that shade,” warns Ian. “I suspect it will get pretty hot out in the desert where we're going.”

  “Oh.” Then she opens the front door and pops the front seat forward to expose a narrow backseat. “Should we flip to see who's riding shotgun?” she asks me.

  “No,” I tell her, stepping into the back. “That's okay. Francesca and I will ride back here.” Francesca climbs in behind me and seems relieved.

  “All right,” calls Ian. “I'll lead the way. You stay with me, Ryan.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” calls Ryan as he adjusts his sunglasses and then pulls a straw cowboy hat from the back of the Jeep.

  “Hey, what's up with the cowboy hats?” asks Shelby. “Did I miss the memo?”

  Ryan chuckles. “Great minds, ya know?”

  It's a pretty small thing, but I feel good that we're both wearing cowboy hats. “I live on a farm,” I tell Shelby as Ryan starts the Jeep. “This is just standard farmer attire on a sunny day.”

  “I'm just a cowboy wannabe,” says Ryan as he takes off behind Ian and Sid.

  I yell a little Yahoo! inside me. It's not like this has suddenly become my dream date or anything. But I suppose things could be worse. Besides, didn't I give this whole thing up to God anyway?

  rancesca helps me practice my Spanish as we ride up the highway. It'seems we're barely out of town when all signs of population disappear. It's like we're out in the middle of a desert now. But you can still see the Pacific Ocean off to the left. I ask Francesca questions about her family and am surprised to learn that she has lived most of her life as an orphan. Speaking slowly in Spanish, she tells me that her father abandoned their family when she was about seven years old. Her mother worked as a maid to support Francesca and her two younger sisters, but when Francesca was nine, her mother was hit by a car and killed. After that, she and her sisters lived in an orphanage in La Paz. The home is run by an elderly American couple who insist all the children speak English, which explains her good grasp of the language. It is this couple who helped her find work and housing.

  I ask her about the other people she lives with, and she tells me she wishes she could find another home, but its close to her job, and she has no car. Then she explains how one woman at the house lets Francesca “rent” her car on Saturdays so she can visit her sisters in La Paz. Francesca says she tries to save money to move to another place, but its difficult since her rent is high. And she also contributes to the orphanage so that her sisters can afford good school uniforms and some of the things she had to do without as a girl.

  “Sure is a lot of Spanish going on back there,” says Shelby. “You guys aren't plotting anything, are you?”

  “No,” I assure her. “Francesca's just helping me brush up on my Spanish.”

  “You are doing very well,” says Francesca.

  “I wish I could speak Spanish half as well as you speak English,” I reply.

  Then Ryan tries to get into the act by asking Francesca how to say some basic things in Spanish. Before long, she is giving us all lessons. Shelby doesn't seem too interested. In fact, she looks a little bored.

  The scenery out here is really pretty, and I ask Francesca to tell me the Spanish names of what we're seeing. I learn the name of the most common cactus, which is cholla, as well as some specific names for birds and other parts of nature. My vocabulary building provides a good distraction when the driving starts getting hairy. I'm shocked to see big trucks passing a whole string of cars when there is no way to see the road up ahead. I wonder if a lot of people get killed on this highway. I ask Francesca, and she points out a small cross decorated with plastic flowers on our right. I've noticed a number of these. She tells me the highway is better now, though. I notice there are stretches where improvements are being made.

  It only takes about ninety minutes to reach Todos Santos, so we made pretty good time. We follow Ian and Sid around the entire town, which is situated on a hill, before we finally pull over on a side street to park. It'seems fairly busy here, with lots of shops and restaurants. Still, its not nearly as crowded as San Lucas. And I can tell that although it caters to tourists, it's probably more authentically Mexican.

  We all get out and synchronize our watches so we can meet up later. Sid and Ian want to get some lunch. Shelby wants to shop first. Francesca is eager to take me to a museum we passed a few blocks back. She remembers going there as a young child before her mother died. I can tell Ryan is torn. I actually think he'd like to come with Francesca and me, but I know he's concerned about leaving Shelby on her own.

  “What about meeting us for lunch?” he says.

  “Sure,” I tell him. “When and where?”

  He glances over at an interesting restaurant across the street. “How about there? Say, one thirty?”

  “Sounds good.” Then Francesca and I wave and head off down the hill.

  We quickly find the museum. Francesca slowly takes me around and tells me, in Spanish, some things she remembers her paternal grandmother telling her when she was about eight or nine. She tells me about the artist Frida Kahlo, explaining the hardships of this talented woman's life. First she contracted polio, and then she was in a streetcar accident that crippled her for life. Yet, despite these obstacles, Kahlo is one of Mexico's most famous artists.

  Like so many of the restaurants and stores, the museum is open to the elements, and I wonder if this causes some things in here to deteriorate. But it doesn't seem to be a concern. I think this is surprising, since museums in our country are so careful about things like temperature and humidity. But then I suppose this is a pretty small museum and perhaps not too significant to Mexican history. The pieces are interesting just the same, and I can tell they are meaningful to Francesca. Her grandmother carefully explained so much to her. And, she says, coming here with her abueh showed her that she liked to learn.

  After the museum, we walk around the town looking for the house where her grandparents lived. Francesca describes it as yellow stucco surrounded by gardens, but unfortunately there are several houses like that. Finally she thinks we are close. Something about the slant of the street is familiar to her. We go down a ways, then stand there looking at a house with a stone wall surrounding it. She is saying this may be the right one when someone in the garden calls out, “Consueta!”

  Francesca peers over the gate, and I wonder if we should leave before were accused of stalking. Then the woman calls out again, more loudly this time, “jConsuela!”

  Francesca grabs my hand and whispers, “Consuela was my mothers name.”

  In a matter of seconds an old woman appears at the gate. She's staring at us—rather at Francesca. “Consuela?”

  In rapid Spanish, Francesca apologizes and tells the old woman that Consuela was her mother s name and that her name is Francesca Tarrago.

  “Francesca Tarrago?” cries the old woman, clasping her hand over her mouth in shock. Then she introduces herself as Tia Lenora, saying that she is Francescas grandfather s sister, and that she lives in the old family home now. She pushes open the metal gate and waves us both into her garden, then immediately goes to Francesca and embraces her in a long and tearful hug. I cant catch all she's saying, but it has to do with death and sadness, and I think the old woman thought Francesca was dead, that her entire family was dead. Finally Francesca steps back from her great-aunt and explains that only her mother died in the accident, that she and her two sisters are alive. Then she introduces me, and I am embraced as well.

  Tia Lenora invites us into her house, insisting we sit down at her table and have something to eat. It's cool and quiet in here, but then she claps her hands, loudly calling out until a young woman appears— I think she's a servant—and Tia Lenora tells her to bring us food and drink. The room we're in is open on one end and looks out into the garden. It's colorful with brightly painted walls, blue and yellow ceramic tiles, and orange terra cotta floors underneath. Charming!

  I mostly sit back and listen, only absorbing parts of the conversation, as Francesca fills in her great-aunt on the details of her and her sisters’ lives. Since I've already heard much of it, I can sort of keep up, but mostly I'm just amazed. What if Francesca hadn't come with us today? She might never have discovered this old relative who lives only ninety minutes from her. I'm so moved by this that I actually whisper a little “Thank you, God” prayer. Because truly, this has to be a God thing.

  Our lunch is delightful and delicious, and I think I could stay here all day until I suddenly remember we were supposed to meet Ryan and Shelby more than an hour ago. I point this out to Francesca, and she looks concerned. But I realize she should spend as much time as possible with her aunt, so I tell her I'll head back to town and let them know we're okay. Then I'll come back to get her before it's time to go.

  I thank Tia Lenora for the wonderful lunch, and she thanks me for reuniting her with Francesca. I tell her it was God, and she nods and smiles and says, “Si, si!”

  Then Francesca walks me back to the street and checks to make sure I'll be able to find my way back. I assure her that I can and that I'll make special note of the name of this street and the next one. She waves and thanks me again.

  I don't feel the least bit worried as I walk by myself back to town. For some reason Todos Santos feels like a friendly place to me. But I also ask God to keep me safe, and I have absolutely no problem finding my way back to the restaurant, where I almost don't expect to find Ryan and Shelby. But there they are, seated at a table on the patio. Ryan jumps up when he sees me, and I can tell he's been worried. But I smile as I hurry over, quickly assuring him everything is fine.

  “It's more than fine,” I say as I sit down. Then I tell them about what just happened and how I left Francesca with her aunt.

  “Are you hungry?” asks Ryan, handing me a menu.

  “No way,” I tell him, putting a hand on my stomach. “Francesca's aunt just served us the best food I've had since we got to Mexico. In fact, it might just be the best lunch I've ever had.” I don't mention that I left before dessert, which also sounded like it was going to be good.

  “We already ate,” he says. “Nothing as great as what you had, though.”

  “We only stuck around here to make sure you guys were okay,” adds Shelby. “Looks like you are.” She reaches for her purse like she's ready to go now, but she just gets out her lip gloss and applies a shiny new coat.

  “Sorry about this,” I say. “I had no idea how much time had passed.

  She smiles at me. “That's okay. But I would like to do some more shopping. This place has some great deals on things I haven't seen in San Lucas.”

  “Have you guys run into Ian and Sid?” I ask.

  Ryan nods. “Yeah. They just walked by here a few minutes ago.”

  “I hope you didn't tell them Francesca and I had gone missing.”

  “I almost did,” he admits. “But I thought I'd give you a little more time before we called the police or anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ryan pays the bill, and Shelby heads to the bathroom. While Ryan and I are waiting for her, I fill him in a little about Francesca's past. I don't think she'd mind. I explain how she and her sisters were orphaned about ten years ago and how it was really amazing for her to find a living relative today. Then Shelby rejoins us, and the three of us are standing next to the street like we're not sure which way to go now.

  “Do you want to hang with us?” asks Ryan. “Or maybe you and Shelby would like to do some shopping without any guy interference.” He actually looks hopeful now, like maybe he needs a little break from Shelby. Maybe if I were just a little bit nicer, I would give in. As it is, I'm only human. So I smile and tell him I want to do a little exploring on my own.

  “Are you sure its safe?” asks Shelby with wide blue eyes.

  “Yeah. I came back here by myself with no problem.”

  “Well, you're a lot braver than I am,” she says.

  I just shrug.

  “Ian said we should meet back at the cars by four,” says Ryan. “There's a place he wants us to stop at on our way back to San Lucas.”

  “No problema,” I say. “Maybe I'll go pick up Francesca just before that.”

  “You sure you're okay on your own?” he asks again.

  “I'm fine,” I assure him. Then I wave and walk away. And I have to say, it feels good to leave those two together this time. It's not like I think Ryan is being tortured or anything. But at least he's getting a good dose of Shelby. And if she's his cup of tea, well, what can I say about that?

  I have a great time walking around the shops by myself, and despite thinking I didn't want to shop, I do end up buying a few things. I get a set of handmade glass goblets, which look as if they've been splattered with a rainbow of colors, for my mom and a very cool belt for my dad. And on a total impulse, I buy a beautifully embroidered white sundress for myself. Then, feeling weighed down by these purchases, I decide to get a big straw bag with bright red flowers on it to carry everything in. I'm so glad Shelby's not shopping with me, because I'm sure she'd think my straw bag was a real fashion faux pas. But I don't care.

  It's after three by now, and I figure I should probably head back down to Tia Lenora's wonderful house. I just hope I can find my way. But it's even easier than I thought it would be, and in no time I'm there.

  The two of them are still sitting right where I left them. Who could blame them? Its such a perfect paradise with the afternoon breeze wafting through and the sounds of birds out in the trees. They're having iced tea and little crescent-shaped cookies that are dusted with powdered sugar. Tia Lenora pours a glass for me and passes the cookie plate as well. Then she and Francesca continue to talk. It'seems this old woman will never run out of words for her long-lost great niece. I feel like a serious spoiler when I announce it's time for us to leave.

  Francesca graciously stands, taking both of her old aunt's hands in hers and thanking her for her hospitality. Tia Lenora then stands and embraces Francesca again, saying that she must come back, that she is always welcome.

  Then the aunt hugs and thanks me again, and we finally leave.

  “That was amazing,” I say to Francesca, reverting back to English.

  “It was like a miracle,” says Francesca. “Did you hear Tia Lenora invite me to live with her?”

  “That's wonderful!” I exclaim. “Are you going to do it?”

  “I do not know. Tia Lenora says I can get a job here and that Todos Santos is much closer to La Paz, where my sisters live. She says she can find someone to drive me until I can buy my own car.”