I emailed Aunt Daisy and asked how things were at the farm with Pepe, her Latino farmhand (wink, wink.)
Honey, I have to admit he’s a mighty good lookin’ dude and ifin’ I was a few decades younger he would definitely be my wink, wink. But truth is, he’s just a guy helpin’ around the farm. I swore off all men as my New Year’s resolution and I’m stickin’ to it.
Here’s a surprise for you as it was for me. We were sittin’ at the kitchen table drinkin’ coffee and eatin’ hot buttered biscuits and Pepe says to me, “Aunt Daisy, I got a confession.”
I wondered what could it be? Is he a fugitive from the law? Does he like other men? Is he hidin’ from an ex?
He continued. “I got a daughter and I miss her real bad.”
You coulda knocked me over with a hay straw!
Life seldom pitches you a perfect horseshoe.
“Really?” I said tryin’ hard not to fall off the chair. Pepe is just a kid himself, but I nodded, real encouragin’ like.
“Marisol is 14 and living with my cousin in California.”
“Why you’re just a kid yourself! How could you have a 14 year old daughter?”
“I look younger than I am. I’m 35, got married early and Marisol came along.”
“Where’s your wife at?”
Tears brimmed in his eyes. “She died when Marisol was born.”
“Oh, Pepe!” I reached for his hand and he grabbed mine.
“It’s been hard being separated from Marisol. I miss her so much. She looks just like Valentina, my wife.” He pulled a photo out of his wallet. “She’s 13 here, but I don’t have a recent photo.”
The photo showed a pretty gal with long brown hair and the same eyes as Pepe.
“I’m hoping she can come here and help out at the farm. Please, Daisy?”
This had not been in my sights at all – a young gal on the farm – but life seldom pitches you a perfect horseshoe. Truth be told, I been alone a lot and the idea of two young people at the farm caught my fancy. When I was young, I read all the Anne of Green Gables books and takin’ in a young gal appealed to my motherly instincts. I took a leap o’ faith.
“We’ll send for her!” I said.
The next day I wired Pepe’s cousin the money for bus fare and faster than a Texas jackrabbit, Marisol was on her way to the farm!
On the day she was arrivin’, we waited at the bus station next to the Red Hot Bar-B-Que Bar and Grill. Pepe was nervous as a broncobuster about to ride.
Thinkin’ of Anne of Green Gables, I was waitin’ for that sweet little thing in the photo.
The bus pulled up in a cloud of dust and a few scraggly passengers got off. Seemed like a long trail ride later, a young gal stepped off. She had everthin’ a sweet young thing wouldn’t– pierced nose, lips, ears, cheek, tattoos everywhere, hair shaved as close as a steer about to be branded, ripped jeans shorter than a stingy pour of whiskey, a pink halter top, a frown and a five pound chip on her shoulder.
This was nothin’ like Anne of Green Gables.
Adios, Anne! Howdy, Stampede!