Part I: The Party The party was a tradition. Baked into Carlos’s holiday plans by default at this point. Family dinner first, then he and Alex (best man) would transition to their buddy Andrew’s (groomsman) annual December 24th party to stay out so late, it would make waking up on the 25th an Olympic medal-worthy feat. Upon entering the party this year, however, something felt different. What was it? The eerie feeling around this holiday season as Puerto Rico still recovered from Hurricanes Irma and Maria? The particularly cool weather? The live mariachi-inspired merengue band? All palpable, but no... Had Carlos finally overdone it at dinner and eaten three too many servings of lasagna? Impossible, there is no such thing as “too much lasagna”. It was the company. Carlos had come to expect the familiar faces from the Colon & Prats families that he’d seen at the party year after year. You know, the kind of familiar where you see each other once a year at the same party and remember each other’s faces, only to have to introduce yourself again because names faded into a pitorro-fueled haze capped off by a yearlong hiatus. Except for that one aunt or uncle that always remembers your name, but it is way too late for you to ask theirs again, so you resort to referring to them as tia/tio, jefe/jefa, “my friend”, etc. Nevertheless, this year the guest list was undeniably different. Did Andrew/Ana Carolina have an entire branch of the family that consisted solely of female-cousins? Spoiler alert: Ana Carolina (Andrew’s step-sister) had invited friends this year. Part II: The Dress and Pitorro Despite his initial bewilderment, something immediately caught Carlos’s eye. Across the sea of Christmas lights, pine branches, red cups, and mariachi-merengue bands, there was a girl so pretty it was like he had never met a girl before, standing there smiling in a breathtaking blue dress. The music faded, two dozen white doves were released at that very moment, a spotlight shone down as the rest of the party went dark and clocks everywhere stopped. It was the first time he saw Francheska. They locked eyes. Immediately the party split like the Red Sea. They began moving towards each other, but without moving a muscle – as if on one of those airport walkways that are only broken when you are in a rush and that the people who use it and should stand to the right are the only ones who don’t seem to know the rule about standing to the right when not walking. As they met in the middle of the party and kissed like Lady and The Tramp sans-spaghetti, fireworks went off, all other guests stood in applause as Francheska was swept off her feet. Flash forward to their wedding. “Why are you drooling on yourself?,” Alex asked Carlos, bringing him back to reality. They had just entered the party. Carlos walked confidently towards Francheska, at this point still ‘the mystery girl in the blue dress’, then pretended to cough as he walked by her to avoid eye contact. A swing and a miss. Luckily, she was standing by the bar. He greeted Ana Carolina and suggested a group shot of pitorro de coco. It was the perfect plan to loosen up and find his way into the group with the blue-dressed-beauty to strike up a conversation. As soon as he put his glass down and turned around, Francheska was already across the party. He waved and shouted his name from a distance. A great start to this courtship.

Part III: The Moves Dancing ensues. Francheska was at the center of the dancing contingent – which if you have ever been to a wedding she attended, is not hard to imagine. Carlos saw this as an opening, all of those afternoons as a sweaty middle schooler in dance class were about to pay off. He immediately proceeds to do his absolute worst Michael Jackson dance impressions. Francheska, still in the middle of the dance floor, flashes a smile his way. It is on. Multiple failed dance moves and dance-floor smiles later, the music takes a fortunate turn, and Carlos works up the courage (see: drinks enough pitorro) to ask Francheska to dance. She immediately accepts. Or there were so many people around them it was too awkward to walk away or say no. Jury is still out on that one. Galvanized by Francheska’s immediate acceptance and across-the-dancefloor looks, Carlos proceeds to spin her more than a Tea Cup in Disney World. She struggles with her purse, still over her shoulder. Enter the night in shining armor and winner of “Wingman of the Year” award – Alex. Carlos takes Francheska’s purse and hands it to him, leaving him at a loss of what the heck to do with this random girl’s purse. Alex finds a strategically good spot to hang it within eyesight, allowing Francheska and Carlos to dance the night away. Part IV: “¿Cuando vamos a bailar salsa?” They danced about 15-minutes before Carlos had repeated the same three spin moves he knew approximately 30 times. Francheska was dizzy, Carlos couldn’t breathe. They talked and laughed for the rest of the night, agreeing to meet up again soon – which they did, at El Coco de Luis. Then again, at La Cubanita. And again… for the next five years. Flash forward to their wedding.