—Maybe it‘s time I fly back home, Santo said as he served himself a generous helping of rice. —It‘s been too long.

—¿Qué qué? Esperanza looked mortified.

Esperanza was convinced that it was Don Chan who‘d put him up to it. Santo had never mentioned the topic before. The dinner table was crowded with dishes: red beans, a pile of maduros, a bowl of rice, a stack of pork chops, a small salad, and two glasses of milk for the children.

—But your father just got here and you want to leave now?

—We can all go together. Santo ignored Esperanza. —The entire family. A vacation.

—We don‘t have money for that, Esperanza said, and served Bobby and Dallas.

—I think it‘s a great idea, Don Chan said, pushing the issue. —Don‘t you, kids?

—Will we see horses? Dallas asked. Much like her mother, she loved horses and had never seen one in real life.

—And goats, cows, chickens, pigs, and lizards, Don Chan added, wondering if a ten-year-old cared for such things. Dallas was growing up so fast. —I‘ll take you to Los Llanos so you can see the house your father was born in.

—I don‘t like lizards, Dallas said.

—Pass the water, Esperanza said. She tossed around the chunks of avocado, picked at the pork chop.

—Are you on a diet? Santo noticed Esperanza wasn‘t eating.

—Bobby, hurry up and eat, you have homework to do. And you, Dallas, hurry up too so you can help me in the kitchen.

—She doesn‘t want you to go, Don Chan said.

Esperanza stabbed the flesh with her fork. It was none of his business. Why couldn‘t he have grown old and catatonic? Just sit there and say nothing like one of the clients she took care of. It‘s much easier when old people don‘t talk.

—Don‘t be ridiculous, Papà. She worries about money. But if we always worry about money, when will we live life?

—That‘s right, son. You want to live to work or work to live? From what I can see, both of you live to work. What‘s the point to live at all?

—Easy for you to say, you never worked a day of your life, Esperanza snapped.

—Now, Esperanza…Santo warned her not to disrespect his father. It would only make the situation worse.

—I was working the land since the day I was born. How do you think we put food on the table in Los Llanos? You‘re so ungrateful.

—How else would you have survived in that campo without us sending checks back home every month? Esperanza stood up and started putting dishes away. —Dallas, help me, por dios. Someone help me.

Dallas took the dishes to the kitchen.

—Sit, Dallas. We haven‘t finished eating, Santo said.

—All I said is maybe we should take a trip as a family. We‘ve been in New York over ten years. We never go anywhere.

—Please, Santo, not in front of the children.

—Then when? I only see you while you sleep, if that. We never talk anymore.