Rosalinda carried the pitcher of lemonade in one hand and two glasses in the other. Her bare feet making a no sound on the boards of the wide veranda. Red built the veranda within the first month after they purchased the old adobe from the Don. De la Vera Cruz was too old to live alone any longer and went to live with his oldest daughter and her husband. The Adobe was old but sturdy and the views from the property were exceptional. Now with the addition of the veranda those views could be enjoyed comfortably from three sides of the house.
“And where is a glass for you Señora?” Arturo Panduro asked as Rosalinda placed the two she carried on the table.
“I did not wish to disturb your conversation, Señor Panduro.”
“Nonsense, Red and I are only telling lies to amuse ourselves. It would be much better to have the company of a beautiful girl, please, come sit down with us.”
“You have the gift of flattery Señor. I cannot refuse such a velvet tongue gentleman.”
“This is the first time he’s not told a lie all morning. He’s right honey, come on and sit with us for a spell. Here you can share my glass,” And Red poured lemonade from the pitcher as Panduro moved his chair to make room for Rosalinda between the two men.
“So what are these lies, you two have been telling each other?”
“They are not lies!” Panduro protested. “They are the stories old men tell to remember the great exploits of their youth!”
“There is only one old man sitting at this table, my Mexican friend, and I am pouring him a glass of lemonade.”
“Stop it you two. If you want me to sit with you then you must act like gentlemen. Tell me a story; I want to hear some of these exploits. Then I will decide for myself if what you tell is the truth or not.” Rosalinda requested half in hope of stopping the bickering and half in hope of hearing a good story on a warm afternoon.
The two men looked at each other as if they were two boys caught fibbing about a stolen cookie from the kitchen.
“You go first Red. After all it is your home.”
“No, no, Señor Panduro. You are the guest in my home. It would be rude of me not to let you go first.”
“But, Red, you….”