—At least Mr. Hernández lived the life he wanted. His soul will rest in peace.

—But he wanted to go to Cuba, and I didn’t let him. I insisted we wait until Fidel died, because I was afraid. We didn’t leave on the best of terms.

—I know perfectly. Esperanza held Mrs. Hernández, who broke out into bigger tears, louder cries. Esperanza pulled her toward her chest. —I’m so sorry, Esperanza said, mad at God for being so unfair. For giving people life and then taking it away. For allowing pain to penetrate good people. Mrs. Hernández wasn’t so bad as to be left in a big apartment alone without her sons or a husband. At least I have my children, thought Esperanza. At least they would never leave me and go away to Russia like Mrs. Hernández’s son had.

Esperanza fetched Mrs. Hernández a warm, damp towel. She cleaned up the makeup running from her eyes. She looked younger without all the makeup. She noticed that Mrs. Hernández didn’t have any teeth. She must’ve forgotten to put them in. —Ay, Mrs. Hernández, Esperanza said, trying to remember what words had soothed her in her time of grief, knowing that nothing helped except for time. Esperanza went into the bedroom where Mr. Hernández’s body lay. She closed his eyes. She took the sheet and covered his body. His skin yellow from dehydration, his lips cracked and skin flaky. She took the newspaper he liked to read off his bed and rested his hands with his palms down.

He liked the quiet, the newspaper, and a good hand massage. He didn’t ask Esperanza for those things, he just stuck his hand out before his bedtime and she grabbed the lotion and pressed against his fingers, pushing the blood up, all the way down to his fingertips. —Ay, que dios te bendiga.

—Ya no más. You have tried your best to stay alive. Sleep in peace, Viejo, Esperanza said, as if he was her father. When her father was dying, she wasn’t there to care for him. He was angry with her for marrying Santo, so she stayed away to not make him sicker than he already was. She wondered what Mr. Hernández must’ve been like when he had all his faculties. Esperanza looked up at the photo in the bedroom of the younger Hernández couple and wondered if they were in love when they got married, or if their marriage was one of convenience. And what convenience? Did they have any regrets? She didn’t want to have regrets. I don’t want to grow old and wonder, what if?

Esperanza called Russia and left their son a message to call his mother. She left Mrs. Hernández with a cooked meal, in case she got hungry. It would be difficult to eat when death was in the air. She called the ambulance, and then watched them take Mr. Hernández away. Mrs. Hernández chose to stay. There was no reason to go. She would deal with the paperwork tomorrow.