The States

Marigolds (Flor de Muerto)

"Oh," is all Austin says the second he steps out onto the street. 

Mindy's looking at him, and then back at the festival with wide eyes. 

"It's Día de Muertos," Austin explains. It's been a long time since he'd been in San Antonio in October, not that that excused forgetting a holiday he celebrated for a good chunk of his life. 

"It's beautiful," Mindy tells him. 

"Yeah," Austin breathes out. "Come on."

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Austin buys Mindy a flower headband from a stall, and Mindy doesn't even pause before pulling out her hair tie, shaking out her hair, and placing the headband in her hair. 

The flowers are a lot smaller than the ones his sister puts in her hair, but they still remind him of Carmen and her calaveras makeup every year.

Austin wonders if Cal still celebrates Día de Muertos. He remembers that she used to, but can't remember if she'd ever stopped. He knows Marisol celebrates it, but Eli doesn't much anymore. 

Austin buys a basket of marigolds, trying to remember the last time he had visited the men who had defended the Alamo with him. 

He comes up with a date an unacceptably long time ago. 

"Where are we going?" Mindy questions. 

"To visit the Alamo defenders."

Austin finds comfort in the silent knowing in her eyes. They all have graves they visit. There were years that Mindy spent the anniversary of the first day of Gettysburg walking the former battlefield with Will, some years when Ginny spent the day there too.  

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"It's been years since I ate pan de muerto." Austin says quietly. Being here is unsettling in a way, comforting in another. 

(If he was human, maybe this would have been his grave too.)

Mindy glances at him, but Austin is staring at the marigolds on the mass grave for his Alamo's defenders. 

"I started forgetting the words in French sometimes. Tyler losing his, too." Mindy responds after a moment, weaving some of the marigolds into little wreaths of flowers. 

It's an old game between them, a truth for a truth.

Austin glances at her. He can't even begin to imagine losing his Spanish. 

She offers a half-smile, quieter than her normal ones. "We started speaking it whenever we play hockey." 

Austin taps the ground beside him, and Mindy sidles closer. Austin wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

"Maybe next year, we could go to a Día de Muertos festival again. Maybe one of Carmen's. Or Cal's. Carmen might celebrate it with her. She's got Noche de Altares in Santa Ana. I've been before, it was nice-"

"Austin, you're rambling." Mindy kisses his cheek. "I'd love to." 

Austin kisses her, drawing back when he feels something in his hair. 

He reaches for it, and Mindy grabs his hand before he can touch it. 

"Leave it, I think it looks cute."

Austin raises his eyebrows, noticing that the wreath of marigolds she'd been weaving is missing. "Did you put a flower crown in my hair?"

Mindy grins. "Yep. Now we match."

Austin kisses her again. 

Mindy's a little breathless when they pull apart. "You know, I'm pretty sure it's sacrilegious to kiss in a graveyard."

Austin shrugs. "I knew them, and I don't think they'd mind much."

Still, now that she's pointed it out, Austin's a little uncomfortable. 

He sighs, climbing to his feet and pulling her up with him. "Come on, let's go see if we can find a booth that has agua de Jamaica, I think you'd like it."