Nine years. Nine years and no phone calls, no letters, not even one of those store-bought Christmas cards. Yet here they were, sitting in the exact same spot as they had been the last time. And nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing. Her abuela's hair was a wispy grey, and the skin on her arms was sagging slightly.

Being in the same room felt strange. It had happened a few times before, when her mother tried reconcile them. She gave up eventually; now she just insisted on keeping both of their photos on the mantelpiece. And the notion was only rarely mentioned. But that all changed the day she came into the world. Her mother had decided to bring it up during one of her visits.

.+++.

"Mijita, you need to tell her," her mother said, rocking the little girl in her arms.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mama," Santana waved away the thought, "You know she will only slam the door in my face."

"Santana, escúchame. Your grandmother is many things, but she is not heartless."

Santana scoffed. "Really? How come she cut me out of her life, then?"

"She is a traditional woman, mija. Religion blinds her; it makes these things hard for her to understand. But I was raised by her, and I know she will not turn her back on a great-grandchild."

"Well what if she does, Mama?" she dropped her voice down to a murmur. "I- I don't want to feel that again."

Her mother set the baby down in the crib. "Santana, you have a chance here. A chance at giving your daughter a relationship with her great grandmother, something I never got to have. Take it."

.+++.

That night she traced her abuela's features on the picture she kept in the bottom drawer. "Britt? If she looks this different on the outside, then the inside might have changed too, right?" But her worries were silenced by kisses, and she fell asleep murmuring what she planned to say.

.+++.

Sitting in that kitchen, she knew that repeating the words would be easy. It was the waiting that would make it harder.

"I know we haven't seen each other for so long, Abuelita. Since that time I told you about myself. But I've come here for a reason."

She took out the phone, and showed her picture, the one Britt had taken the night before. Santana co

"Her name is Sofia. We named her after you. I want you to be a part of her life. Just like you were for me, abuelita."

Her grandmother's face became pensive.

Don't give up now. Finish. Finish talking.

"Brittany has made me… the happiest person in the world. And I- I want to be able to share it with you."

Dead silence.

"Say something, please?"

More silence. She felt her heart pounding, hot against her chest.

And then came four words: "Can I meet her?"

Everything was upside-down and her mouth refused to move, but somehow, she managed a nod.