Question

In any case, one windy afternoon, my Uncle Manuel and Aunt Toni drove up and deposited four-and-a-half feet of bewigged, bejeweled Spanish spitfire: a square, pale face topped by a tightlycurled black wig that hid a bald head—her hair having been lost to typhoid nearly sixty years before—her small white hands veined with rivers of blue.
I later learned that my great-grandmother—whom we simply called "Grandma"—had been moving from house to house within the family, trying to find a place she’d accept.
Since my mother was the closest to Grandma, our place was the logical one for her, but Ese Gringo didn’t see it that way, I guess, at least not at first.
The next day my Uncle Manuel and Uncle Arnulfo, plus Aunt Chintia, arrived and over food they discussed with my mother where Grandma should be interred.
Still chewing, Grandma replied, "Mande?" Knowing she wanted a complete sentence, I again struggled, then came up with "Deseo dulce." She measured me for a moment, before answering in nearly perfect English, "Oh, so you wan’ some candy.

Answer 1

Answer:

please let me know if you don't understand the situation and I have a nice day