“Well, I hadn’t thought that far yet,” Sofi answered. “I was hoping that as my campaign manager and as a member of one of the original land grant families around here, you might help me with some ideas, comadre!”

Yes, the comadre was starting to like the thought of being able to engender some new spirit back into Tome, land of her ancestors. They were both sitting quietly lost in their imaginations about what they would or could do for their vecinos with Sofi as la mayor when Domingo walked in to refill his cup with coffee. He stopped and stared at the women, who didn’t seem to notice him.

“¡Buenas noches, comadre! ¿Como ’sta el compadre?” he said as a way of announcing himself. The comadre snapped out of her daydream. She had nothing personal against Domingo, but she didn’t think too much of a man who would walk out on his familia like he had and then just decide to waltz back in twenty years later—and waltz he did, since everyone saw how Sofi and he danced that whole night gazing into eyes other’s eyes shamelessly, at the fiesta in Belen …!

“My husband is fine, thank you,” she said, cordially. “We’re just sitting here making plans for Sofia’s campaign to run for mayor!” She said this with a little tone of cockiness. Maybe el Domingo didn’t appreciate the woman he had but others did—or might, depending on what Sofi had in mind as mayor.

Domingo stared at the comadre and then at Sofi, very much the same way that the comadre had looked at Sofi when she had first announced her plan to her. “What is she talking about?” he finally asked Sofi. He didn’t know whether to be concerned or to laugh.

“That’s true, Domingo. I am running for mayor …”

“Mayor of Albuquerque? Are you serious?” Domingo asked, just on the verge of laughing. His wife couldn’t be serious! What did she know of politics? And anyway, everyone knew you couldn’t run a campaign without money.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” la comadre responded before Sofi got the chance. “How can Sofia run for la mayor of Albuquerque!”

“Then mayor of what?” Domingo asked, truly dumbfounded by the whole conversation. He figured at this point that the women had maybe found that bottle of homemade pisto he had stashed in the tool cabinet in the back porch …

But no, they were sober and what was worse, serious, and the “best” of the news was yet to come when Sofi looked him straight in the eye and said, “I am running for mayor of Tome, of course! And furthermore, I will be la mayor of Tome! I swear on my parents’ grave—may they rest in peace—even if it’s the last thing I ever do!”