#different cloth

“Not for robbers.” Ernesto scoffed, “I could have you arrested for this stick-up.”

“No! I’m not robbing you, I’m a vaquero.” José said, his stick dropping to his side, “I’m the good guy, you’re the bad guy.”

“José, leave Ernesto alone.” They both looked over to see that Ceci calling to them from the veranda, having just come out of the house. “Everyone knows he’s the good guy.”

“See? Your tia knows what she’s talking about.” Ernesto ruffled José’s hair as he walked past him to Ceci.

José squawked indignantly behind him, but Ernesto was already ducking out of the hot afternoon sun and into the cool shade of the porch.

“You’re late today.” Ceci said, folding her arms in mock sternness.

“I had to stop by the postmaster’s this morning.” Ernesto said.

He pulled a small paper carton out of his satchel and handed it to her, savoring the bright look of excitement that danced in her eyes as she took it.

“What is it?” She asked, shaking it by her ear experimentally.    

“Open it and see.” He chuckled, leaning back against the veranda railing.

He watched with a smile as she began fighting with the twine. He would have offered her his flip knife, but already knew from experience that she would wave it away, insisting that she “nearly had it.” After courting her for three weeks now Ernesto had learned a lot of small things like that about her.

She made a small noise of victory as she worked the string over a corner of the box and pried the side open, carefully tipping its contents into her hand.

“The tuscany yellow!” Ceci cried in delight, holding up the three spools of canary-colored thread, “How did you know? Where did you get it? The depot’s been out for months!”

“I pulled a few...strings.” Ernesto said, feeling positively Héctor-ish as he grinned at his own joke. Ernesto had always prided himself in his ability to figure out what made people tick, and he’d discovered that few things made Ceci feel as happy as an especially thoughtful gift.

“Thank you, it’s perfect!” Ceci hugged him excitedly, then pulled back to look inside the carton again, “There’s something else in here.”

She pulled out a small paper envelope and carefully opened the flap, tipping several shining buttons carved from mother-of-pearl into her palm.

“Oh, Ernesto,” she said, looking at him with a pleased expression that made him want to shout with victory. “They’re beautiful, I know exactly what I’m going to use these for. How can I pay you back?”

Ernesto couldn’t help smugly congratulating himself on his cleverness. He’d guessed on the buttons, but their high price tag had been a good clue and it seemed that he’d guessed right.

“You could let me watch you work this afternoon?” Ernesto said, resting his hands back against the railing.

“Hmm.” Ceci considered him with a calculating look as she carefully tipped the buttons and thread back into the carton.

All Ernesto wanted lately was to be around Ceci, but she’d never let him into her workroom before, claiming that no one got to come in and distract her while she worked.

But that was hours every day that Ernesto couldn’t be around her, meaning he’d been trying to earn his way in right from the beginning.

“And what exactly would you do all afternoon, if I let you in?” She asked, testing him.

“I’ve got letters to write.” Ernesto held up his satchel, having come prepared. “And if you wanted to talk while you worked, I wouldn’t be opposed to that either.”

Ceci squinted at him for a long moment. Ernesto silently willed her to say yes as hard as he could.

“You’re on trial today.” Ceci said, turning to lead the way to the side room at the back of the house. “I reserve the right to kick you out whenever I like.”

“Si, Señorita.” Ernesto grinned as he followed her in.

He toned down his smile of self-congratulations as he politely nodded to the family members they passed on their way to Ceci’s workroom. He’d done it, he’d convinced her. As an extra bonus, Héctor hadn’t believed it would work, meaning Ernesto would get to lord it over him later.

“You realize the sacrifice I’m making for you by keeping the curtain open.” Ceci said, sweeping aside the curtain in the doorway, then fastening it open for propriety.

“Which is why I’ll be the perfect guest.” Ernesto assured her, seating himself in a large wicker chair, in full view of the doorway should any of her family members happen to look in.  

He hadn’t quite realized how much of a reputation around town he had for being a ladies’ man until courting Ceci. For the first couple weeks her family members were constantly hovering over them, always as cheerfully respectful of him as he was of them, but always with an underlying implication that under no circumstances was he to misuse her trust.

And Ernesto couldn’t exactly blame them either. Being attractive meant he’d never struggled to get feminine attention, but he’d never cared to hold onto it for more than a week or two before moving on. Apparently a track record of quantity over quality gave a man a less than savory reputation among the families of young women.

But Ceci wasn’t like the other girls. While other women constantly wanted to be held and kissed, something of a chore in Ernesto’s opinion, Ceci hadn't made these demands. Ernesto had never realized how taxing it had been until he was suddenly with someone who didn’t care about those things. She cared more about him than physical affection, and it was an incredible, albeit entirely unexpected, relief.

Ceci always greeted everyone with a hug, and there were of course the hello and goodbye kisses that would be expected of any courting couple, but overall Ernesto had been pleasantly surprised to find that their most comfortable and frequent moments were not spent in each other’s arms, as most women seemed to expect of relationships. He’d never been so at ease spending so much time around anyone other than Héctor before.

“So how much mail from fans are you answering today?” Ceci asked as Ernesto unpacked a stack of letters onto the workbench in front of him.

Her workroom wasn’t very large, but there was a tall chest of drawers near a clothing dummy with what looked like a half-formed skirt pinned to it. She was already putting her new yellow thread into a woven hamper on a stool and pulling out a small pincushion that she strapped to her wrist.

“I wish it was fanmail.” Ernesto sighed, pulling out his pen knife and starting to cut open envelopes. “Just keeping up old contacts so Héctor and I can actually get out of this town again someday. We were so close when we were in Mexico City, Ceci, we were so close to something big. I could feel it.”

“Well if you got that close once, you’ll do it again.” Ceci said, setting to work on the half finished skirt.

Ernesto hummed in response as he ripped open another letter.

It had been easy to think that when he and Héctor had first come back for the funeral, but the longer they stayed, the less confident Ernesto was that things would be able to go back to normal.

He and Héctor still practiced and played together regularly, at least they both still agreed that music itself could never be stripped from their daily lives, but Ernesto had the uneasy feeling that when the time came, convincing Héctor to leave was going to be a brand-new kind of difficult.

He unfolded a letter and scanned it. Snorting, he tossed it into the pile of read mail.

“What’s so funny?” Ceci asked around the pins in her mouth, not looking up from where she was bent over the waistline of the skirt.

“Nothing.” Ernesto said out of habit, reaching for the next letter. Héctor only ever had eyes for letters from his family, meaning Ernesto had always had to take care of all other correspondence.

“Nonsense, you thought it was funny.” Ceci insisted, looking up. “I’ll kick you out of my workroom you don’t tell me.”

“Alright, alright,” Ernesto smiled, raising an eyebrow and reaching for the letter again. “I just don’t think you’ll find it all that interesting. It’s from a stage manager of a cantina in Oaxaca we played at a year ago, he writes sometimes to see if we still play for free.”

“Well he’s in luck then, coinless music is your specialty isn’t it?” Ceci teased.

“Not if we have to travel all the way to Oaxaca.” Ernesto said, folding the letter back up.

“Well good, you two are too talented to be giving away your skill for nothing anyway.” Ceci said, nodding firmly. “You should tell him that next time you’re traveling his way for your other paid performing jobs, you’d be willing to perform for him at a discounted rate. For old times sake.”

Ernesto stared at the letter critically. He’d been planning to just ignore it, let the unknowing insult get thrown into a wastebasket, but Ceci’s suggestion actually did sound better if he thought about it. It would keep a possible connection open while boosting their reputation as professionals.

“You give much better advice than Héctor.” Ernesto said, reaching for the box that held his fountain pen and a fresh sheet of paper.

“Well I should hope so.” Ceci said, “I love Héctor dearly, but there’s a reason that it was Imelda that started the shoe shop. That man lives for the moment, not for the future.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Ernesto chuckled, smiling as he began to write the opening of his response. He paused and glanced up at her. “Of course this means that I’ll actually have to make another tour at some point.”

“Such is the life of a traveling musician.” Ceci said absently as she continued to work.

“I would probably have to be gone for several months.” Ernesto said, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

He’d never actually tested this with her before, the thought of him traveling. He didn’t really like the thought of being away from her, any more than the prospect of perhaps leaving Héctor behind. But if things were to...progress...for the two of them, he had to know if she would try to tie him down like Imelda had with Héctor.

“Probably three months at the very least,” Ceci said, rifling through her thread hamper again.

“if you’re going to get you money’s worth on traveling fare anyway.”

“So...you mean to say that you’d be alright having a husband who was on the road all the time?” Ernesto asked, knowing how obvious he was being, but also knowing she wouldn’t mind.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a husband before.” Ceci said, glancing up at him and smiling at his bluntness, “But I imagine I would. I have plenty of my own projects. As long as said husband wrote often and didn’t stay away too much longer than he had to, I think I could manage. Especially if it was for a good reason and I knew it wasn’t a permanent arrangement.”

“See? You get it,” Ernesto said, pointing his half drafted letter at her, “that’s what I try to tell Héctor, but he always says he needs to be home with Imelda. Maybe you could finally talk some sense into them, make them see that they’re being ridiculous.”

“Absolutely not.” Ceci said, defly stabbing a fold into place without so much as looking at him.

Ernesto blinked. “But you just said-”

“Why would you assume that what I want is what someone else wants?” Ceci asked, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Imelda and I are completely different people, we’re cut from entirely different cloth. I said I could make do, I’m used to the men in my life being absent, I could cope, but not Imelda.”

Ceci shook her head as she pulled another pin from the pincushion strapped to her wrist. “She has a child Ernesto, do you have any idea what happens to her when Héctor leaves? She’s completely brittle until he comes back, she’s constantly on edge, worrying something will happen to him. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent the night at her place because I can tell she’s lonely, even if she won’t say it. She looks tough on the outside, and she is, but she and Héctor need to be close. You’ve seen them together, you know that.”

Ernesto was stunned. All he’d said was...well...

He distractedly shuffled some of his papers together while his thoughts scrambled, but Ceci didn’t seem to notice as she continued to pin and stitch.

“So...you don’t think that I should travel?” He asked carefully.

“I never said that, I’m only saying that Imelda and I have different needs.” Ceci said simply.

Ernesto squinted at the pile of letters on the workbench in front of him. Sure it was hard for Imelda, but it wasn’t exactly easy for him and Héctor either. He and Héctor both had to make sacrifices for their careers.

We’re cut from entirely different cloth.

Ernesto shook his head as Ceci’s words rang in his ears, starting on his his half-finished letter again.

He and Héctor both still wanted to play for the world, Héctor was just getting too comfortable was all, settling into their break a little too much. He’d snap out of it when money got low again.

Ernesto continued to write his reply, using Ceci’s suggestion about the discount on a future tour.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he still felt uncomfortable, something itching in the back of his thoughts as he wrote.

He would have to figure it out later.

Read Part 10

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And we’re back, thanks for your encouragement and kind words over the hiatus on this story, it helped provide a lot of great motivation to keep me going when I felt stuck. <3

Updates are going to be a little spaced out with the work I’m doing on teacher!au and other projects, but will hopefully be about one every week or two. I’ve already got most of the next chapter drafted, so hopefully it’ll be on its way before too long.

(Also I’ve recently realized how to make the little é on my English keyboard, so I’ll be trying to write Héctor’s name correctly in everything I do from this point on.)