Rosa Segunda was a second-hand woman.  She was her parent's second child.  She married her high school sweetheart, Roberto, who was her second boyfriend.  When she cooked, she always saved leftovers.  She loved day-old bread and rolls, second-hand clothes and books, and used furniture.  She was blessed, (or cursed), with the ability to see both sides of an issue or dispute, and was fond of saying, "on the other hand."  She preferred to stay home and take care of the house rather than work.  She felt her role should be secondary to Roberto's.

    She died in their second year of marriage after a brief battle with cancer.  She had gone to her doctor when she first fell ill, and the surgeons had found and removed a tumor from her lung.  It was the second tumor, the one that they missed, that had finished her.  Since she never used cigarettes, the doctors concluded it was second-hand smoke that had killed her.

    It was raining the day they buried her.  Roberto stood next to their priest, staring at the casket.  His bible was pressed between his left arm and his side.  His left hand held his umbrella, and his rosary was twisted around his fingers.  In his other hand, he held a lit cigarette. . .