Julio had been staring at the dance shoe in his hand for the past five mintues. Both Coco and Rosita knew it had been five mintues, as they stood there, or about. The man had atleast distractedly plopped back to sit on the couch in the room, rather than remain standing, but little else about his position had changed.

"Julio, are you alright?", Coco sounded understanding, and would have sounded more amused, if she weren't so concerned. She glanced to the door one more time; right after her mother left, she had pondered following, and if she should, or stay and help her husband through his tough position.

Imelda would shrug off her help, and wanted to be alone, though, she knew, so she was doing better here. Especially considering Elena needed her too. As she stood there, with her Tia Rosita smoothing a hand over her hair, the poor girl looked like she didn't know what she had just done, and if it were good or bad, since she didn't. She needed reassurances her mother wasn't mad now more than ever probably, but would hardly move herself.

"Elena, Mija, come here", Coco next bent and held open her arms, still listening for if Julio was going to answer. Elena rushed over, her young voice finally voicing her confusion, "I...I'm...sorry?". She wasn't even sure if she was.

Coco shushed her soothingly, hugging her close, "It's alright Mija...", her next words stalled unsurely, did she try to explain? It would require possibly saying that the girl's grandmother was wrong...or not quite right...and Coco wasn't sure if that was fair.

"Y-your Abuelo...", she began unsurely, but she'd already messed up. Elena stiffined, and stood back to stare at her mother bewildered, then a frown that never belonged on her sweet girl's face took over, "Abuela says he's nothing of ours! Diablo!", she semi-spat, verbally anyway. One of a million words Imelda had put to her run-away husband directly or indirectly.

"Mija no...", Coco rushed, trying with all she had to make it not sound like a correction or criticism. She paused, pushing hair back out of her daughter's face and staring sadly into her dark eyes. How did she explain...

"My...Papa...he...I don't know why he didn't ever come back...but I know he loved us...", Coco glanced to the door after saying this, thinking on her mother. She knew Imelda didn't believe this, hence what Elena had said, and honestly couldn't say she herself wasn't just clinging to childish dreams but...

"The gato is staring at me...". Julio had snapped out of his internal debate to notice this. Coco rose and saw he was right, the ever present stray/Mama's cat sat at the other end of the room watching Julio, tail lazily swishing.

Coco walked over and picked it up. "Come on you, out".

It felt like a presence left with the cat, as Coco gently set it on the other side of the door, Elena rushing out after to either pet it or check on her Abuela. Just as well...someone should.

A differing, anticipatory, kind of presence fell as Coco turned again to Julio and Rosita and came over to also sit on the couch, and take the hard decision out of her husband's hands, since she had foolishly put it there in the first place. "It's alright Julio, hand it over, I'll...I'll take them out of the closet tomorrow". Coco was aware that sentence was a vague cheat.

And put them where?

Still holding the shoe, Julio glanced to her, and looked more miserable, if that was possible! "I-I'm suppose to help you", he began, rising, "and if you want them back in the closet where they were...".

What he was saying was dangerous! And of course no man wanted to say he would (from fear no less!) take his mother-in-law's side over his wife's! Yet...all of this was not that simple.

"Julio...", Coco rose and smiled, "it's appreciated, really, but I won't have you sideways with Mama. Here...", she stepped over and took the shoe herself, her husband looking so deflated! She gave him a quick peck to the cheek to reinforce her words and reassurances. She then glanced to the shoe again.

As if reading her thoughts, and Coco wouldn't put it past her sister-in-law, Rosita stood, speaking for the first time since just watching the family drama unfold and not knowing what to say; not that she wasn't still at a slight loss. "Oh Coco...are you sure?".

"I have little choice", Coco answered honestly.

Rosita paused a few more moments, but...Imelda...and the cat...weren't here...

"What...what was your favorite thing about him?", she asked hesitantly, wondering, on the story no one told, and her sister-in-law's life.

"Rosita...", Julio didn't exactly reprimand, but he did cut in.

"No, it's alright", Coco rushed, then pondered, "...I...I don't know", she answered, "I was so young...his voice probably, since that's the one thing that's easiest to recall...when he sang...".

Rosita sighed, but held in the words she probably wanted to say, about it all being unbearably sad...since it was, and there was no sense in upsetting her sister-in-law, her own hermana.