Ranya had left a note directing them to the big house for breakfast, but not everyone was ready at the same time. Jamie was the first—and she was hungry. As she walked outside, her nose was tickled by the smell of something amazing coming from the direction of the big house. She quickly made her way there.
When she walked into the huge kitchen, she found Valeria along with her mom and a man she assumed was Valeria’s dad, cooking up a storm.
“We like to do a big breakfast on the ranch,” Ranya called out over her shoulder. She was expertly manning numerous simmering pots on the giant six-burner stove.
“Especially on Sundays, when my dad is around to help,” Valeria added, leaning her head on the man’s shoulder.
“I’m David Castillo, or Dad,” he said in a Southern twang, extending his hand. He was just a head taller than Valeria, with thick black curly hair and a slightly shy, slightly mischievous grin. Salsa verde whirled around inside the restaurant food processor he was using like a pro. “Welcome to Austin,” he said.
There were big bay windows on each side of the kitchen, and through them Jamie could take in the ranch. On the drive over, Valeria had casually mentioned to the Miami crew that the ranch was big. Ginormous would have been a better word. At a thousand acres, with more than a dozen kinds of wildlife on the property, the Castillo family ranch seemed more like a national park than someone’s home.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jamie asked, turning her attention back to her hosts.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” Valeria’s father said, reaching into the fridge for a crate of eggs. “Now we’re going to have to initiate you into the Castillo family breakfast club.”
Jamie was never one to back down from a challenge. “Sounds like fun.”
“Well, it is fun. If you successfully complete your task,” David said cryptically.
Jamie looked at him curiously. “Sure, what is it?”
“¡Migas!” Valeria cried, tossing an egg to the startled Jamie, who just barely managed to catch it.
“¡Migas!” Ranya said, tossing another egg at her; she was more prepared this time and caught it easily.
“¡Migas!” David said, throwing yet another egg at her. Both he and Valeria collapsed in laughter when she failed to catch the last egg and it splattered against the tiled kitchen wall.
“What on earth…?” a voice asked. Turning, Jamie saw that Alicia and her mother had entered the kitchen just in time to catch the tail end of the egg toss. Alicia looked perplexed, but Mrs. Cruz ran over and pulled her old friend into a bear hug.
“¡Migas!” she shouted happily.
As Jamie stood holding the eggs she’d caught, looking slightly shell-shocked, David wiped the egg goop off the wall. Valeria and her mother held their sides, laughing heartily.
“What’s going on?” Alicia whispered to Jamie. “And what the heck are migas?”
Valeria wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and explained. “Migas are a Tejano specialty. Crispy tortillas. Fresh farm eggs. Chorizo, if you have it—which we do.”
“Nopalitos, if you have them,” Ranya added. “Which we do.”
“Cotija cheese—” David began.
“If you have it,” Alicia put in.
“Which I bet they do,” Jamie grinned.
“We certainly do,” David said. “And the tradition is, first Texas newbie down to breakfast gets to make the migas and compete for a prized spot in the Castillo family breakfast club.”
“And I’m up for the challenge,” Jamie said, grabbing a cast-iron pot from an overhead rack.
“Up for what?” Gaz asked as he bounded into the room.
“Jamie’s taking the great migas breakfast challenge,” Alicia said.
“The Amigas breakfast challenge?” Gaz asked, and everyone laughed.
By the time Carmen entered the kitchen and said, “What’s going on?” no one would bother to explain.
Jamie cracked an egg into the sizzling hot pan and said simply, “Watch and learn.”
Twenty minutes later, they all sat down to the most incredible breakfast feast that any of the Miami crew had ever seen—huevos rancheros with refried pintos and sliced avocado, yogurt with maple syrup and toasted pepitas, blue-corn muffins, turkey sausage, buttermilk biscuits, bacon, and, of course, Jamie’s chorizo and Cotija migas. There were ten people in total around the table, but there was enough food for at least twenty more.
Before they could dig in, David held up Jamie’s dish. “I must first taste the Amigas migas.” He took a bite and chewed as everyone waited. “And I find them to be…”
He made a face and paused dramatically, and Jamie looked just a little worried. “Muy sabroso,” he finally said. “Tasty. Señorita Sosa is now officially a member of the Castillo family breakfast club.”
Everyone at the table clapped, and Jamie, always happy to step into the limelight, stood up and took a bow.
After that, there was just the sound of eating as everyone tackled the feast. “This is insane,” Gaz said a while later, after polishing off what had to be his fifth buttermilk biscuit.
“Only if you mean insane as a synonym for yum,” Alicia said, heaping another spoonful of salsa verde onto a tortilla.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day on a ranch,” Valeria explained. “Everyone works such long hours, and even when your chore list is light, you want to be fueled for whatever the day may bring, be it a swim in the river or a seven-mile hike or haying an entire field.”
At the mention of work, Carmen looked concerned. “We’re not haying anything today, are we? Because I was planning to visit my cousin Yessy at UT Austin.”
Jamie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go in a little while, too. Dash set me up with a lesson with one of his pro friends at Barton Creek.”
Valeria’s father looked impressed. “Are you a golfer?”
“I’m working on it,” Jamie said. “My boyfriend is big into golf, and I just started taking lessons. Before that, the closest I came to golf was watching Tin Cup on my portable DVD player.”
“Do you get to play a lot with your boyfriend?” asked David.
“Not so much,” Jamie replied. “Turns out playing golf with one of the top-ranked teen players in the country, even if he’s your boyfriend, isn’t so much fun.”
“Well,” David said, “I was planning on getting in a few holes today myself. I’ll give you a ride over.”
“I was hoping to score a pass to one of the workshops at South by Southwest,” Gaz said. “Or, if I have no luck, spend the day at the Starbucks nearest to it, playing my guitar. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet a record exec who’ll discover me and magically decide to sign me to his label. If only…” He sighed.
As everyone went through their plans, Alicia’s face had been growing redder and redder. But she waited until Valeria, her parents, and her own mom left to completely lose it. “You guys, we are here to work, not socialize!” she fumed. “We’ve got a little over two weeks to pull this quince together from top to bottom. Valeria’s family has flown us here at no small expense. We’ve got to do a stunning job.”
“Chill, chica. I couldn’t agree more,” Jamie said. “Which is why I’ll meet you back here—right after lunch.”
Carmen nodded. “I’m all about it. Now that I’ve met Valeria, I can work on sketches on the bus ride home. See you at four o’clock!”
Before Alicia could explain that neither of those options worked for her, Marisol returned to the kitchen with Ranya. They had made plans to visit the Blanton Museum of Art at the University of Texas to see a new exhibit on solar eclipses by a contemporary Mexican artist, Pablo Vargas Lugo.
“Lici, why don’t you come with us to the museum?” her mom asked. “It should be a wonderful show.”
“Solar eclipses. Can’t wait. It sounds like a blast,” Alicia replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’ll take a pass and just hang out at the ranch. Maybe Valeria can show me around and
we can spend the day together talking quince things. After all, somebody’s got to stay focused.”
AFTER CARMEN, Jamie, and Gaz had gone their various ways and the moms had headed into town for a sightseeing trip, Valeria and Alicia were alone at the ranch.
“It’s a gorgeous day,” Valeria said. “I’ll give you a tour of the property; I mean, if you’d like one. You ever ride a horse before?”
“It’s, uh, been a while. But it’s like riding a bike, right?” said Alicia, fibbing a little. She had ridden—once. She just hoped that some muscle memory of that lone, long ago elementary-school pony ride would kick in.
“Okay, then. I’m going to run up to the house and change. Do you want to change and I’ll meet you back here, in, say, ten?”
“Sure,” Alicia said, going upstairs to the guest room she was sharing with Jamie and Carmen.
She’d been wearing a cornflower blue sundress, a red beaded necklace, and red sandals. A blue bandanna, folded as a headband, completed her country-chic look. But clearly, she couldn’t go horseback riding in a dress. Alicia opened her suitcase and quickly changed into her favorite boot-cut jeans, a camel suede halter and the newly acquired cowboy boots that she had purchased the night before at Allen’s Boot and Tack Shop near the ranch. Glancing in the mirror, she thought, Boy, do I do Texas fabulous well!
Alicia had changed quickly, but Valeria had still beaten her and was already in the kitchen waiting, wearing a pair of dusty jeans, a pink-pearl-buttoned cowboy shirt, and an honest-to-goodness white cowboy hat.
Valeria took in Alicia’s ensemble. “You’re not going to wear that, are you?”
“Why not?” Alicia said, grabbing a red apple from a big bowl on the wooden dining table. “I’m wearing jeans and a top, just like you.”
Valeria took a deep breath, as though it were painful to hear the comparison. “How much did those jeans cost? Two hundred bucks?” she asked.
“Three,” Alicia said, somewhat guiltily. “But they were a birthday present, and they are the only brand that fits me perfectly.”
Valeria threw her hands up in the air. “¡Ay, chica! You don’t want to wear three-hundred-dollar jeans to go horseback riding! One, you’re going to be really uncomfortable, and will probably get jean burn. Two, they are going to get filthy.”
Alicia bristled. She was a practical girl. She ran her own company, for goodness’ sake. What did Valeria take her for? She wasn’t some coddled princess.
“I appreciate the advice, but I’ll be fine,” Alicia said dismissively. “One, these jeans are supercomfy. That’s one of the reasons they were worth the price, and two, if they get dirty, I’ll wash them. No problema!”
“Okay,” Valeria said. “But your top is way too pretty for this ride. It’s suede, and we’re going to cross the shallow part of the river on this trip. The horses like to splash. And it’s a halter—your back and arms are completely exposed to the sun, the bugs, and the brush. Please, I want this to be fun for you. Let me lend you some clothes.”
Alicia stubbornly shook her head. “I’ll just throw my cashmere cardi over the halter. Sorted.”
There was no use arguing once Alicia made up her mind. Valeria had known her just long enough to have noticed that about her. Sighing, she let the matter drop and silently hoped Alicia wasn’t going to regret her decision.
After grabbing her sweater, Alicia cheerfully followed Valeria out of the kitchen. She was excited to be having an authentic Texas experience. Sure, they were there to work. But eating open-pit barbecue in a town called Driftwood, riding on a horse across a river—this spring break was already shaping up to be one of the most memorable ones ever.
Valeria turned and glanced down at Alicia’s feet. “Girl, I swear, I’m not trying to be annoying,” she said sincerely, “but are those the boots we bought last night?”
Alicia nodded. “Cute, right?”
“Last piece of advice, I promise. But it takes a little while to break in a new pair of boots. We keep lots of extras at the stable…” Valeria’s voice trailed off when she saw Alicia’s look. “You really want to wear those, huh?”
Alicia smiled and nodded, looking just like a little girl in a doll shop. “They are so cute. I can’t take them off. They’re like my Texas Cinderella slippers.”
“Well, then, Cindy Ella, let’s get to steppin’,” Valeria said, giving up. “We want to be back and in the house before that noonday sun starts beating down.”
The two girls walked along the rocky path from the guesthouse to the stables. Alicia was impressed with how well Valeria knew all the ranch workers; the night before, she had told them that the ranch employed forty-five people, half of whom lived on the grounds. When she was with the amigas and Gaz, Valeria seemed like a little bit of an awkward, albeit outspoken nerd—the stringy hair, the bad posture, the message T-shirts. But as she walked around the ranch, she seemed totally different.
“¿Hola, Miguel, qué pasa?” Valeria called out to a short guy baling hay. He waved enthusiastically.
“How’s your beautiful little Elisabeta?” Valeria asked a woman grooming a dark brown horse.
As the daughter of Miami’s deputy mayor and one of the city’s most powerful judges, Alicia was used to navigating roomfuls of grown-ups. It was one of the things that made it so easy for her to deal with the parents of her quince clients. Valeria might have been in desperate need of a haircut and some lessons in teenage girl style, but out here on the ranch, she was confident in her own skin—and Alicia admired that.
“The stable houses more than two dozen horses,” Valeria explained as they approached the big structure, “mostly, ranch horses that the staff and family ride. We used to have thoroughbreds. My father had hopes that I would ride competitively. But from the moment I took my first spin on a skateboard I’ve always been more excited about wheels than hooves. Don’t get me wrong, I love horses and riding on the ranch, but it is never going to be my life.”
“I get it,” Alicia said. “I used to think that I would be a lawyer, like my mom was before she became a judge, or even run for office someday. I even had this crazy internship at the mayor’s office last summer. It was fun, but then the quince-planning thing happened and I just knew that was what I wanted to do.” She paused and then said, “We should figure out how to get ’boarding into your party.”
Valeria nodded, looking animated at the idea. “If you want, I’ll take you guys to the skateboard park where me and my friends like to hang,” she said. “Ever been on a board before?”
Alicia shook her head. “I’m not so much the athletic type. Except for dance. I’ve been taking dance classes since I was a kid, and sometimes I think I’d love to be a choreographer. I like to think of planning a quince like choreographing an amazing ballet.”
Valeria’s eyes widened. “You like to dance?”
Alicia shrugged as though it were obvious. “Yeah, who doesn’t? Everybody can dance. Not everybody can ride a horse or a skateboard.”
“Not true,” Valeria said softly. “I should have been honest when I wrote you and told you that I’m not a great dancer. That was an understatement. I dance like a horse. Actually that would be an insult to those fine, graceful creatures. I’m worse than that. I never dance. Not in private. Not in public. I don’t even tap my feet when I hear a song I like. That’s how awful my sense of rhythm is.”
“But you’re going to dance at your own quince. You’ve got to,” Alicia insisted.
Valeria didn’t answer. Instead she led them into the barn’s main aisle, where she then opened a stall door. She turned and looked at Alicia. “I’m a Castillo. We’re a pretty proud breed. My abuelo was one of the first Texas cowboys. He came to Austin from Mexico without a penny when he was fourteen and found independent work as a vaquero, herding and helping to take care of other people’s cattle. He had dreams of someday becoming a ranchero. Little by little, he began to acquire his own property. He’s eighty-four now, and as you can see by everything that surrounds y
ou, he figured out a way to make his dream come true. This is a man who came to Texas with nothing and ended up being the patrón of a thousand-acre ranch. We Castillos are fierce about following the beat of our own drum. It works for us. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t got to do anything but stay true to my Chicana roots and get into a really good college.”
Alicia laughed out loud. Valeria did have a weird sense of style and was offbeat and unassuming. But she was firm in her opinions, she spoke her mind, and she wasn’t to be trifled with. Alicia was liking her more and more.
“Point taken,” she said. “No dancing unless you want dancing. So, how about some riding?”
“Good idea,” Valeria said, leading a white horse with brown spots out of the stall. “This is Maguire. She’s the gentlest horse on the property. You’ll ride her. She’ll take good care of you.”
Valeria clipped the cross-ties onto Maguire’s halter so she couldn’t go anywhere and then went to lead out a second horse out of his stall. He was a caramel-colored gelding with a shining white mane and tail.
“This is my baby, Greige,” Valeria said.
“Oh, he’s beautiful,” Alicia said, running her fingers along the horse’s silky side.
After a quick lesson in grooming and tacking up, it was time to ride. It took a few clumsy tries, but finally Alicia was able to pull herself up into the saddle. Then she sucked in her breath. It was higher up than it looked from the ground, and she feared she might topple over any second.
“Don’t worry, we’ve had five-year-olds ride Maguire,” Valeria said, trying to sound reassuring. “She won’t let anything happen to you.”
Valeria went over Riding 101 with Alicia. “You’re going to use your legs to squeeze and your hands to give her signals,” she said. “You can give her a light nudge with your foot if you want her to go faster. Give the rein a slight tug if you want her to stop. The main thing is to stay loose and relaxed.”
Playing for Keeps Page 4
