Lola’s neighbor—an old widower with ties to what Lola wildly imagined as “organized crime”—had several roosters
that crowed at an ungodly hour each day. At first their cacophony felt to Tess like a punishment for her failed marriage. But she soon began to absorb the loud cries into her dreams and could
continue to sleep despite the noise. She would rise at 7:30 and call her breakfast order down to Vicky. To amuse herself, she would sometimes request over-the-top American breakfasts. “Gravy
and biscuits, please,” she’d say. Or “Chicken fried steak with a side of home fries.” The result, without fail, would be . . . longaniza and rice.
Lola Josefina’s days seemed increasingly full: she was off to oversee the marketing; she had a hair appointment; she was meeting a friend for merienda and
