EPILOGUE
A Year Later
Diego stood at the foot of his father's grave, not sure why he acquiesced
to Victoria's suggestion he visit the cemetery the evening before their wedding.
Probably for the most obvious reason, he told himself, because tomorrow she
would be his wife.
It hadn't been too difficult to convince everyone Zorro had taken his pardon
and had rode off into the sunset. Especially since he had not been seen since
that fateful day nearly a year ago. Ignacio de Soto had sailed off to his
beloved Spain not long afterward. The Mexican Empire had more pressing problems
to worry about other than a dusty little pueblo in Alta California. The new
alcalde had no ambition to do more than competently govern Los Angeles. The
garrison's lancers had been whipped into shape, and were no longer the bumbling,
inept soldiers they had been under the last two alcaldes.
And no one had raised an eyebrow when Diego began courting Victoria in earnest.
It seemed one of his secrets had not been such a secret after all. There
had been others who had also tried to press their suit once they realized
Zorro wasn't coming back to claim the lovely innkeeper. But she had spurned
them all and had publicly accepted his proposal two months ago.
Diego had thought he would feel foolish talking to his father's headstone,
but he had been wrong. It felt cathartic. Glancing down, he saw a smear of
paint on the side of his hand he must have missed earlier, after he had put
the finishing touches on the portrait of his father. The one he had started
the year before, the one he couldn't bring himself to even look at until
three months ago. As soon he returned to the hacienda, he was going to hang
it next to the portrait of his mother over the fireplace in the library,
where it would preside over the next day's wedding reception.
"I'm sorry for not trusting you enough to tell you I was Zorro," he whispered
as he knelt down beside the grave marker. Bowing his head, he added, "and
for not giving you the grandchildren you desired so much." Those were his
biggest regrets, along with the fact he had not had the chance to say goodbye
properly. "I am so sorry, Father."
A feeling of peace suddenly flowed through him, leaving him trembling. In
that moment, he knew his father had forgiven him. Diego glanced upward, and
murmured, "Gracias."
He got to his feet, gazing down at the graves of his mother and father, lying
side by side in eternal rest. He smiled, full of happiness they were back
together at last.
"Diego?" He turned to see Victoria walking toward him, evidently finished
with her own visitation of her parents' graves. "All right?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes." He enveloped her in his arms and held her close. "Yes, I believe I
will be," he said before releasing her
Hand in hand, they walked back to the pueblo.
ZZZ
FIN
This story is dedicated to the memory of my father who
passed away in 2005. Love and miss you always, Dad.
The title of this story, Lagrima Quieta (A Quiet Tear) is from a song by
Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass which is on the album "The Lonely Bull".
It was one of my dad's favorite albums.