by Annie Bryant
I pulled my ear away from the wall and gasped. “Ricardo, we have to get in there right now! We can’t let your mom think that Mercedes broke the eagle.”
Ricardo looked more scared than I had ever seen him, even when we were stuck in the creepy cave. He swallowed. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.” I was proud of my cousin. It was going to take a lot of courage for him to face Aunt Inez.
I placed the candleholder carefully back on the little table and folded my hands in front of me. This was it. The walk from my room to the room right next door was probably the longest five feet I have ever walked.
“Knock,” Ricardo whispered to me when we stood outside the door.
“You knock,” I whispered back.
Just as he raised his hand to do it, the door was pulled open. I saw Mercedes sitting on her bed with a worried look on her face.
“I thought I heard you come up, Isabel,” Aunt Inez said. “We are having a very important conversation here. I can speak with you two in a minute.”
“No—Mom, we really need to talk to you now,” Ricardo spoke up.
“Ricardo!” Aunt Inez sounded surprised. “I said I could talk to you in a minute. Please leave us now.”
“Aunt Inez, it was me!” I blurted out. Then I froze. Everybody stared at me, including Mercedes.
“What was you, Isabel?” Aunt Inez asked slowly.
“The eagle,” I mumbled, looking down. “I broke the eagle. And I’m so so so so really incredibly sorry. I know it was like your favorite piece of art. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I had such a great art collection and then someone came in and—”
“It wasn’t Isabel, Mom,” Ricardo interrupted me. “It was me.” My mouth fell open as I turned to look at him. Aunt Inez raised an eyebrow. “I know I’m not supposed to go in there, but I just wanted to show Isabel, and then I picked up the eagle and it just…slipped. I’m sorry.” He looked at the ground.
I couldn’t believe it. Ricardo was covering for me? Why?
“Aunt Inez,” I tried again. “That is not the truth. The truth is that I broke the eagle.”
“No, I broke the eagle,” Ricardo countered, giving me a glance that meant Stop talking—now.
Mercedes spoke up from her place on the bed. “Perhaps…could it be…that you both had a hand in breaking this eagle?”
Ricardo and I stared at each other. “Yeah,” we admitted finally.
Aunt Inez looked at one of us, then the other. “Thank you for your confession,” she said simply. I couldn’t believe that’s all she had to say. I expected a blowup the size of Texas, and we got a thank-you. I would never understand grown-ups. Never.
After a brief pause and an odd look at Ricardo, Aunt Inez turned and nodded at Mercedes. “Regardless of what happened to the bench by the barn, it needs to be fixed in time for the celebration tomorrow. Find Tomás and see if he can do anything for it.”
The bench by the barn? Ricardo and I looked at each other in disbelief. Aunt Inez hadn’t been accusing Mercedes of breaking the eagle at all. In fact, she didn’t even know about the broken eagle. I raised my arms and dropped them to my sides.
“And you two”—Aunt Inez beckoned—“are coming with me.”
A few minutes later Ricardo, Aunt Inez, Uncle Hector, and I all stood in a circle around the repaired eagle.
“I am really sorry,” I whispered for the forty-thousandth time.
“I know that you are,” Uncle Hector told me. “We all make mistakes, Isabel.”
“That’s right,” Aunt Inez agreed. She shook her head at us. “I hope you know now I would never fire a valuable employee—a lovely person like Mercedes—just because she made a mistake.”
Uncle Hector nodded and turned to me. “If the story you tell about this accident with our eagle is true, Isabel, then there was really nothing you could have done to prevent it. Except, of course”—he looked sternly at Ricardo—“to not be in this room in the first place.”
“I’m really sorry, Mom, Dad,” Ricardo repeated, looking from one parent to the other. I felt worse for Ricardo. It’s like my poor cousin couldn’t get anything right this week.
“Sorry is important, son,” Uncle Hector told him, “but you have to learn that there are consequences for your actions. You will be a member of the cleanup crew, bright and early the morning after the quinceañera. An active member.”
“But, Dad!” Ricardo started. “I just got finished with…” he stopped suddenly, realizing what he was saying. I realized it too. Ricardo’s mom didn’t know that we had spent the night in the cave, so she didn’t know about the punishment his dad had given him of peeling potatoes in the kitchen. And Ricardo definitely didn’t want her to know about any of it now.
“Finished with what?” she asked him, looking puzzled.
“Uhhh…nothing. Finished with cleaning my room,” he mumbled. He exchanged a look with his dad. I could tell what it meant: You’re safe—for now.
“I want to be on the cleaning crew too,” I volunteered. Ricardo looked at me in surprise. “I mean, I’m the one who actually knocked it over. It’s only fair.”
“That’s very mature, Isabel,” Aunt Inez told me. I had to smile at that compliment. Me, mature. I liked the sound of that.
As we walked away I heard her say to Uncle Hector, “How will we ever explain this to Cesar Guerrero?” Oh, no. I shook my head. Mr. Guerrero was the artist.
“Ricardo, why didn’t you tell me Mr. Guerrero was the artist who sculpted the eagle? How will I ever face him and Xochitl again?”
“I didn’t know it was him. Honest, Isabel. My mom just got that piece—she never told me who she bought it from.”
Right before we headed to our separate wings of the house, Ricardo asked me, “Why’d you volunteer for the cleaning crew? That was pretty stupid.”
I rolled my eyes. Boys were just so clueless about the important things in life…like friendship.
“Why’d you say it was you who broke the eagle?” I countered.
He was silent for a minute. “Yeah, okay. Yeah. I get it.”
He gave me a thumbs-up and headed off to his room. I smiled too. I guessed that, from a boy, that was as close to “Friends forever!” as I was ever going to hear.
CHAPTER 15
Dreams Do Come True
On the morning of the big day I found Mercedes in the kitchen, frantically trying to assemble breakfast without the help of Fidencia or Enrique. The first thing I noticed was the finished cake. The entire piece was iced in whorls of creamy frosting. Tiny silk flowers were delicately arranged on the various tiers. It looked like something out of a magazine.
“Did Scott do this?” I asked Mercedes.
“El Señor Scott,” she answered. “Magnífico, ¿no?”
“¡Sí, sí! ¡Magnífico!” I repeated. The cake was a work of art!
At that moment Elena Maria walked in, followed by Lauren and Jill. Everybody froze when they saw the cake.
Elena Maria was glued to the spot. “When? How? But who? I thought Fidencia and Enrique quit….”
“I made it. For you, Elena,” said Scott, who magically appeared at that moment. “Of course, I had some help from assistant chef Isabel.” He ruffled my hair.
The smile on my sister’s face could have melted a glacier. She started to cry. Her friends hugged her.
“Scott, this is…beautiful. However did you do this?” she asked.
“With a little harina, azúcar, huevos, and mantequilla. How else? Mercedes helped me with the frosting and with the little flowers. She and Fidencia had planned the cake together, so the columns, the decorations, everything was already here,” Scott said proudly.
Mercedes beamed. Freckles crowed again and Mercedes took off after him, once more, with a broom. Elena Maria hugged Scott, who turned all sorts of red.
“Here, sister,” I said, handing her an envelope that contained a hand-drawn birthday card. I had spent a lot of time making it at home, so I hoped she liked i
t. “Happy quince.”
“Ooh, nice, Isabel,” she said. Lauren and Jill grouped around her.
“That’s so cool!” Jill said.
“You drew this?” Lauren asked.
I nodded. I watched my sister carefully open the envelope and take out the card. She smiled at me, but I could still see worry in her face.
“Anymore news about Papa yet?” I asked.
She looked up, dejected, and shook her head. “Mom said he’s en route, whatever that means.”
I remembered Mom’s earlier mysterious smile. “He’ll be here. I just know it.” I held her hand and to make her smile, said, “I will fly on my ‘little sister pest’ broom to go and get him if I have to. He’s not going to miss his favorite daughter’s party. No way!”
She waved her finger at me. It was a little joke between us. Whoever needed Mom and Dad more was the favorite daughter.
We all stood around admiring the cake, when who walked in through the back door but Enrique and Fidencia, holding hands and looking dreamily into each other’s eyes! “What a crazy couple,” I mumbled.
Fidencia dropped her husband’s hand and marched right over when she saw the cake. She examined it as if she was looking for the tiniest flaws.
“Who made this cake?” she asked haughtily.
Scott stepped away from the group.
“I did, Fidencia. I apologize if I invaded your territory, but we didn’t think you were coming back. I tried my best to treat your cocina with respect.” Boy, did Scott have his chef manners down.
The chubby chef inspected the confection one more time. “Bueno, Señor Scott. Muy bueno.”
I looked over at Elena Maria. We both knew at that instant that Scott Madden was the perfect quince escort for her.
Flowers and Banners and Animalitos, Oh My!
After downing two bowls of cornflakes with fresh strawberries, I went to the patio to help with the party setup. I walked into a whirlwind of activity. It seemed all the girls were there to help, from the cousins to the aunts to the grandmothers. Aunt Lourdes, back from her friend’s house, had jumped right into the middle of the action—as usual. The only ones missing were Elena Maria, and Lauren and Jill, who had been told to keep my sister away for the entire day.
I saw Mom, Aunt Lourdes, and Aunt Inez huddled in a corner, each of them waving her arms excitedly. As I got closer, I heard the sounds of raised voices.
“Esperanza,” Aunt Inez said to my mother, “Don’t be unreasonable. I’ve taken care of all of this so that you wouldn’t have to. I so wish you would use this time to relax. You’ll need your strength for tonight.”
“She’s doing better than she has in weeks, Inez,” Aunt Lourdes said. “Let her pitch in if she wants to.”
“Please, if you just step aside we can get this finished in a couple of hours. I’m only waiting for the flowers to be delivered.”
“Inez, listen to me. You’ve done far too much already,” Mom said. “I want to contribute to my daughter’s party.”
“Nonsense! Hector and I are pleased to give your family this party.”
My mother pierced her with a look I recognized: the same one my sister had given me when she was at her wits’ end. Even Aunt Lourdes seemed to shrink.
“Enough,” my mom announced. “Stop what you’re doing right now. I have an announcement to make. My Isabel and I have created some decorations that we need your help in arranging.”
Everyone in the room froze and stared at my mom. Aunt Inez was shocked. Her breath caught. I knew what she was feeling—her artistic vision was slipping through her fingers. But I felt my mother had a right to decorate her own daughter’s quinceañera. On this one I had to stand with Mom.
“Inez, we will work the flowers into the decor after we’ve put up what I have here.” She pointed to the box. I skipped over, shaking with excitement and trepidation. I was proud of what Mom and I had created, but I didn’t want to offend Aunt Inez. She was doing so much to make Elena Maria’s party unforgettable.
My two aunts were mystified by the box, which my mom put on a table and opened up. She handed me one end of string and as I walked away, a beautiful banner of papel picado unfolded. A collective “ohhhh” escaped from everyone.
“Isabel and I made these. There’s more.” Mom handed out stacks of the connected tissue squares.
Aunt Inez’s demeanor changed from anger to total appreciation. “Oh! These are lovely! I didn’t think of doing anything like this! Esperanza, you are so creative.” I realized that no matter how bossy my aunt was, she really appreciated beauty and would praise generously anyone who created something “lovely.” She really was a patron of the arts.
My mom blushed under her praise. “This isn’t all,” she said. She opened a second box and dumped the hundreds of folded paper animals, many more than she’d shown me the other night, on the table.
“Tía Esperanza,” declared Sonia, “these are like something out of a party catalog.” I had to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing at that one.
“Isabel, did you make some of these too?” Alisa asked me.
“Yup!” It made me happy to see my mother take charge.
After everyone finished cooing over our work, Aunt Inez jumped into action.
“Muchachas,” she said. “Let’s hang these up and get the show on the road!”
Dream Party
What happened later went so fast I can hardly remember. All I know is that at some point in the afternoon, I had to go to my room to put on my dress. I had expected the dress, picked out by Aunt Inez, to be way over the top—ruffles, lace, giant puffy sleeves, everything—but it was actually very simple and really pretty. Just my style.
As I twirled around, watching the skirt flare out around me, I noticed that the sun had gone behind a cloud and the walls in my room changed color again. I had to stop and stare for a while. Was it a shade of lavender, or setting-sun pink? I’ll miss this magic room when I’m gone, I thought. The room I had felt banished to when I arrived turned out to be my sanctuary.
Unlike my peaceful room, Elena Maria’s room was a makeover madhouse. She and her honor court reminded me of the squawking chickens that were always running around outside the house.
Jill came after me with ten gallons of styling gel. “I think you need a little more color, Isabel, too,” Lauren said, coming at me with all kinds of shiny tools and brushes. Eek! I finally let her put blush on my cheeks and gloss on my lips, but I had to run away from her to avoid eyeliner, shadow, mascara, and brow pencil. I was definitely not ready for a total makeover.
We all gathered at the side of the house before walking to the old barn. The late afternoon sun shot rays through the clouds, which glowed in dazzling shades of peach and purple. I’d never seen such a glorious sunset. At the other end of the darkening sky a pale full moon appeared above the horizon. The land itself had been transformed by the recent rain. Texas bluebonnets blanketed an entire pasture, providing an electric blue contrast to the vivid green grass. I wished I had my sketchpad and almost ran inside to get it—until I saw Elena Maria.
She looked almost unrecognizable to me. Her hair was swept up on top of her head with a ring of tiny white roses, held in place by a beautiful silver and turquoise comb that I immediately recognized—it had been passed down through our family from our great aunt. She wore sparkly dangling earrings, and her face was made up like a magazine model’s—thanks to Lauren, I was sure. She was so beautiful. To me, she truly looked like a princess. “Wow,” I whispered. Mom squeezed my hand. I’d never seen her with such a huge smile.
We took a deep breath before starting the procession. Everything was ready, except…no Dad. Mom, Elena Maria, and I didn’t say anything, but I knew that each of us missed him terribly. His parents, Papa Margarito and Mama Maria, were sad and disappointed. I thought I must have misunderstood Mom’s secret smile. I saw a little tear brimming on the corner of Elena’s eye. But, just like a real princess, she brushed it away and put on her bravest smil
e. I was so proud of her.
We walked with Mama Maria, Papa Margarito, and my mother’s parents, Abuelito José and Abuelita Juanita. We were followed by the large party that included Elena Maria’s friends, the Ruiz family, and several dozen relatives.
The picnic area next to the barn was even more beautiful than Aunt Inez had described it. I recognized the benches and the water fountain as faux bois, the concrete formed to look like wood. One of those must have been the broken bench that Aunt Inez was talking to Mercedes about, I figured. It certainly wasn’t broken anymore—everything looked perfect. Stone vases full of flowers sat to either side of the benches, and tin buckets with gladiolas of all colors surrounded the fountain.
My mother’s cousin, Father Miguel, the priest, was waiting by the huge tree, next to a trellis decorated with flowers and a gauzy white fabric that formed a canopy. Father Miguel greeted us when we reached the trellis, and indicated that all of us except my sister should take a seat at a bench. Elena Maria stepped under the canopy and sat on an old and beautifully carved white chair. I could feel my heart pounding, and all of the beauty wasn’t even for me. I imagined how nervous and excited Elena had to feel, sitting up there all by herself.
“Family, friends, youngsters, and beloved elders,” Father Miguel began. “Today marks a milestone for my cousin, Elena Maria. Although she lives far away from many of us, she and her family have never been far from our hearts. Many of us have witnessed her growth from infancy to the lovely young woman she is today.”
I sneaked a peek at her. My mature sister looked scared to death!
“Elena Maria,” he said. “You are now fifteen. For millennia our culture has observed this stage of a girl’s life as the moment of passage from childhood to maturity, of being watched over and cared for, to beginning her own journey.
“The ritual we will soon witness has undoubtedly undergone changes over the last hundred years. It will be a mix of traditional customs with modern elements, and it surely will be unforgettable fun! But before we move on to the great fiesta, I want to say a few words to my young cousin, words that I hope all of us here will also take to heart.”
