“Wait, I didn’t tell you that.” Madison’s eyes narrowed.
“No, I heard it on the radio.”
Lilly shifted away from Madison to end the conversation, and my friend instantly spun toward me. Of course, she knew I had listened to her “Life as a Hollywood Extra” interview on Philly’s number one morning show. Her and Emily being cast as walk-ons in Orlando’s action flick was the most monumental thing to hit Spring Mills in decades, if you don’t count the certain Hollywood heartthrob who made an appearance at her Sweet Sixteen (even if it was only because he happened to be staying in the hotel, and Madison’s high-powered event planner called in a favor from her old college roommate—Orlando’s publicist). I had sent her an e-mail from Utuado raving about how fabulous it all was. But she had no idea that I had shared all the details with my cousin. And it was clear from Lilly’s tone that she didn’t find Madison’s party, or her radio debut, nearly as impressive as Madison did.
“I talked about you guys so much that I wanted Lilly to hear you on the radio and get to know you,” I explained quickly, jabbing Lilly with my elbow.
“Oh, yeah. She talked about you constantly. ‘Back in Spring Mills, back in Spring Mills,’” Lilly droned.
“What? You don’t like it here?” Madison crossed her arms against her chest.
“I didn’t say that. I haven’t even been here a week... .”
“Exactly. So maybe you shouldn’t be so quick with the opinions.”
Madison and Lilly glared at each other. I held my breath.
“Mariana told us all about your party too,” Emily offered, placing her palm on Madison’s forearm.
“Oh yeah, the ‘quince-crap-era’ ...” Madison said with a snarl.
“Quinceañera,” Lilly corrected.
“Oh, my bad.”
I rose to my feet.
“All right, I think I’m ready for some food,” I stated carefully. “Lil, you wanna see if my mom needs help in the kitchen?”
“Fine,” she huffed.
She stood up and adjusted the tiny pink T-shirt stretched against her bulging chest. I straightened the seams of my—rather short—khaki skirt, and looked up in time to catch Madison rolling her eyes behind Lilly’s back.
“Guys, we’ll be back in a minute,” I stated, glaring at Madison who smirked in response.
“By the way, nice skirt Mariana. Funny, I don’t remember you wearing things that short before you left.”
I paused, then grabbed Lilly’s arm and strolled toward the sliding glass doors. I was not about to antagonize her further.
I closed the door behind us, but not before I heard Madison whisper. “So, how long do we have to put up with this chica?”
Lilly didn’t seem to catch it.
I glanced at my mom. She was rearranging the crab-stuffed mushroom caps on the wait staff’s trays. Her hands moved frantically as she muttered incoherently. (Either she was talking to herself or to imaginary caterers, because there was no one else around.)
“Mom, you need help?” I asked as Lilly and I walked to the granite-topped island.
“It just doesn’t make sense. If they’re butlering the hors d’oeuvres on round trays, then obviously they should present them in a circular pattern. I just don’t get it... .”
She carefully adjusted the circumference of her mushroom formation. I could see three trays beside her with the morsels arranged in straight lines. I grabbed a tray, handed another to Lilly, and began mimicking her circular prototype.
“Thank you, Mariana,” she said, smiling at me.
“So, where are your uncles? I haven’t met them yet.” Lilly asked as she followed my lead.
“Oh, they should be here any minute. They’re always late.” My mom stayed focused.
Her eyes were so wide that, for a second, I thought she was going to bust out a ruler to make sure her design was perfectly symmetrical.
“So, what are you gonna tell them?” Lilly asked.
“About what?” my mom mumbled.
“About Teresa?”
My mom coughed slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I assumed it would come up.” Lilly stopped arranging the mushrooms and peered at my mom.
“I’ll let Lorenzo handle that.”
“Oh, okay. I’m just saying that they’d probably want to know.”
“Lilly, drop it. You don’t know them,” I warned, shooting her a look.
“Fine, it’s just ...”
“I’m sure my dad will tell them. Right, Mom?”
My mom paused and fixed a pleasant smile across her face. Then, without a word, she swiftly lifted her tray and took it to a nearby waiter.
“Real subtle,” I mumbled.
“What? I’m a guest. I thought I could get away with it.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t test that theory too much, especially not with my dad.”
Before my mom could return to work on her next tray, I heard the front door swing open. I didn’t have to see who it was. My Uncle Roberto’s deep belly laugh traveled halfway across the house. They were here.
The burgers were burnt, though it wasn’t the caterer’s fault. My mom was paranoid about a recent E. coli outbreak and insisted that the red meat be served well-done. As a result, my aunts and uncles (who arrived more than an hour late) were whining about the “tasteless gray stones” doused in ketchup and fancy mustard.
I introduced Lilly, then left her with Vince so I could spend time alone with Madison and Emily. I had to believe that I could fix our fractured friendship. While I’d fought with them before, usually it blew over after a brief confrontation and a sincere apology. But I had tried that already. Now after ten minutes of sitting across a picnic table with barely a spoken word between us, I was doubting whether Lilly was the only root to our problems.
“Sorry my aunt made you put Tweetie inside,” I grumbled, mustard dripping onto my chin. I wiped at my face with a white linen napkin and placed my burger back on my plate.
“Please, like a dog that small can really cause allergies ... outside, ” Madison griped. “But, whatever. I’m sure Tootsie’s keeping her company.”
I smiled, nodding as I chewed.
“Ya know, these burgers kinda suck. I wouldn’t hire these caterers for your party,” she added as she picked at her uneaten meal.
“What party?”
“Your Sweet Sixteen! You are having one, right?”
My birthday was in less than two months and, aside from a less-than-serious conversation with Lilly and Alex in Puerto Rico, I hadn’t really considered a party. It’s not like I wanted to compete with Madison’s bash. Regardless of the Orlando Bloom sighting, Madison excelled at details. Her party had everything from flowers to match her highlights to a designer gown for her Chihuahua. Anything I concocted would look lame in comparison. But I also didn’t want to overlook the day entirely.
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’ll have something. If anything, it’ll be pretty low-key.”
“Gee, sounds like a blast.” Madison rolled her eyes at Emily, who nodded in agreement.
I had been dodging snotty looks from them all day. In all the years we’d been friends, I’d never known either of them to act this spiteful.
“Look, guys, I’m sorry I lost touch this summer. Seriously. But how long are you gonna treat me like a leper?”
Madison blew out a frustrated sigh. “Mariana, since you’ve come back, everything’s been about ‘Lilly this’ and ‘Lilly that.’ It’s annoying.”
That was almost funny considering I hadn’t heard her utter more than a sentence that didn’t revolve back to her Sweet Sixteen. But I was sure she didn’t notice; she was too busy making me feel guilty for being shipped off to Puerto Rico against my will and making the best of the situation while there. Like somehow it was a crime for which I needed to beg forgiveness.
“Well, maybe I thought you guys would want to hear what I did this summer. Would it kill you to take an interest in my life?”
“Well, maybe we would be interested, if you didn’t bring back Chiquita Banana over there.”
“Don’t call her that,” I said, my eyebrows raised.
“Why? ’Cause she’s your best friend now?” Madison bobbed her head. “You spent two months with this chica, and now you’re ready to replace us?”
“Call me crazy, but I thought maybe we could all be friends.”
“We can,” Emily offered, finally speaking up.
“Oh really?” Madison spat, glaring at her weakened ally.
Emily ran her hand through her trimmed maple locks and stared at the checkered tablecloth.
“Mad, it’s done. She lives here now. And Mariana’s our best friend... .”
“Well, I don’t see why you just get to dictate who our friends are,” Madison interrupted, waving her hands at me. “Just because she’s your relative doesn’t mean she has to be my new best friend. Are we ever going to hang out with you again alone, without her?”
“You guys don’t have to be BFF. I just want you to try to get along. Is that too much to ...”
Before I could finish the thought, a crash of broken porcelain resounded from Lilly and Vince’s table. I swiveled to catch Lilly staring doe-eyed at my Uncle Diego, who was looming in front of her, eyes fiery and a plate of food splattered onto his pants.
Chapter 4
It was a heck of a first impression. When asked how she was related to us, Lilly explained that my Uncle Diego’s uncle (my Great Uncle Miguel, whom I had spent the summer living with) was her grandfather. She could have left it at that. But she didn’t. She went on to add that she had also invited my Uncle Diego’s sister, Teresa, to her Quinceañera. That’s when he dropped his plate.
I rushed over seconds after my father.
“What happened?” My dad asked, though by the look in his dark eyes I could tell that he already knew the answer.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. When exactly were you going to tell me that you met with that tramp and her daughter?” my uncle asked, a vein in his forehead pulsing in a manner very similar to my dad’s.
My father took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stroked his ebony mustache. When he pried his eyelids open, he looked almost defeated. It was an expression I had never seen on his face before.
“Yes, I spoke to Teresa, but not to her mother,” he explained.
“I can’t believe you.” My Uncle Diego scanned the crowd for his other brother, clutching a butter knife tightly in his hand. If it were sharper I would have feared for my father’s life. “Roberto, did you know about this?”
My Uncle Roberto looked as startled as the thirty-five party guests surrounding him. He shook his head.
“This wasn’t planned,” my father continued. “Vince and Mariana were there this summer. They met her. There was nothing I could do.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Yes.”
“Great,” Uncle Diego hissed. His knuckles whitened as he continued to grip the shiny steel knife. Then he thrust the blunt weapon at my father like a pointer. “Well, did you tell her how her horrible excuse for a mother ran us out of town? How she ruined our family? How our mother was never the same again, because of her?”
“No, it wasn’t like that... .”
“Then, there was a lot you could have done, Lorenzo. You chose not to. And you know what? I’m choosing to get the hell out of here.” He slammed the knife on the table, his eyes large and black.
“Diego!” my aunt yelled.
“Don’t!” he screamed at his wife through clenched teeth.
Then he snatched his keys from the picnic table and charged toward the back door of our house, my aunt and cousins chasing after him.
“Dad!” I yelled, my eyes pleading. “Do something!”
But my dad just stood there, motionless, watching his brother storm away.
“What in the world were you thinking?” I asked Lilly, plopping down on the picnic bench beside her.
The guests around us were starting to disperse. The spectacle was over and apparently enough to trigger the end of the festivities.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d react like that... .”
“Lilly, I get that maybe your family back home tells each other everything. But I told you that’s not how it works here.” I shook my head at her, my red hair flopping into my eyes.
“I know, I just thought that maybe you guys could benefit from a little honesty. Maybe if I got the ball rolling ...”
“Ya got the ball rolling all right!” Vince exclaimed with a cocky smile. “No need to ease into it or anything.”
“Um, Mariana, what’s going on?” Emily asked softly as she strolled up behind me with Madison on her heels.
“It’s a long story,” I mumbled, stroking my forehead. I could feel a headache forming behind my eyes in throbbing waves.
I looked at Madison and Emily, and for the first time since I got off the plane from Puerto Rico, they looked like my old friends. Madison’s face was soft and concerned. I squished over on the picnic bench and made room for them beside me.
“It all started at Lilly’s Quinceañera... .” I explained, launching into the story.
I relayed every detail, from my insulting a stranger’s screaming child at church to finding out that that stranger was my illegitimate aunt. I watched as Madison and Emily’s jaws sunk towards the freshly mowed grass below.
We were the only ones left at the now defunct barbeque. My Uncle Roberto and his family left immediately after my Uncle Diego, not saying a word. Almost all my parents’ friends and neighbors slowly skulked away, pretending not to notice that anything uncomfortable had happened. Vince’s friends quickly followed their lead, mumbling something about wanting to test their fake IDs before heading off to college.
“I had no idea any of that happened,” Emily mumbled.
“Well, it isn’t exactly something you put in an e-mail.” I tossed my head back and stared at the branches of the oak tree stretched above us.
I used to climb those knotty branches when I was little. My dad would scream at me to get down, certain that I would hurt myself. I never did. It seemed funny now to think of the things that my parents chose to protect me from, while ignoring the things that really scarred.
“Well, this chick’s in Puerto Rico, right? It’s not like you’re ever gonna see her again,” Madison pointed out. “Can’t you just forget about her?”
Lilly groaned.
“What?” Madison shrugged.
“The woman is her aunt and her father’s sister. She’s not just ‘some chick.’ She’s family.”
“Family they were happily living without until a few weeks ago.”
“Still, it’s different now,” Lilly insisted, tapping her chewed nails against each other with the knack of an experienced fidget.
“Why?”
“Because I know her now,” I answered, rubbing my temples. “And she’s nice.”
“I’m sorry, but your uncles have every right not to like her. And, seriously, why do you care?” Madison tossed her manicured fingers in the air.
On some level, I knew she was right. I couldn’t judge my uncles for how they chose to deal with a horrible situation that happened years before I was born, but still I couldn’t stop feeling as if what they were doing was just plain wrong.
“She has a point,” Vince said, raising a chin towards Madison. “We should stay out of it.”
“We’re already in it!” I shouted. “We started all this.”
“Like it’s your fault?” Lilly rallied.
“It’s Grandpop people should be pissed at.”
“Vince, don’t go there right now.”
“It’s true,” Madison added.
“What do you know?” Lilly challenged.
“I know that you should stay out of other people’s family business!” Madison said, looking powerful.
“Mariana, if you like this woman, there’s no reason you can’t stay in touc
h with her,” Emily urged politely. “But Madison’s right. You can’t force your uncles to do anything.”
A lull fell over the conversation. I could hear a bird chirp in the distance, and it reminded me of Puerto Rico. I couldn’t believe I was there just last week. It already felt like so long ago.
“It’s crazy that your family’s suddenly got all this movie-of-the-week drama. I thought you guys were boring,” Madison joked.
“Yeah, so did I,” Vince and I said almost in unison.
The sun was starting to dim, and I saw the glint of a firefly in the lawn. School would start in a few days, and Vince would be gone for good. Everything was changing. And I couldn’t control it.
Chapter 5
Vince’s suitcases were piled in the foyer along with his mountain of cardboard boxes. By the time he finished packing, he had taken everything from a bathing suit (even though Cornell was nestled in frigid upstate New York) to his MVP baseball trophy. Seeing his empty room made me even happier that Lilly was staying with us. Not that I would ever admit that I might miss my older brother, but he would leave a noticeable void in our five-thousand-square-foot house.
“Mom! Let’s get out of here!” Vince hollered up the stairs.
“What? You afraid Cornell’s going somewhere?” I asked, my arms folded.
“When it’s your turn to leave for college, trust me you’ll understand.”
He tossed a black duffle bag onto his shoulder and gave Tootsie a final pat on his curly black head. Vince’s nails were chewed nearly to the cuticle.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked, staring at his mangled fingers.
“Doesn’t it hurt when you wax your eyebrows?”
“Good point.”
Our mother finally bounded down the steps dressed more for a Sunday brunch than a four-hour drive. Her sharp pink suit would have made Jackie O. proud. My father, who was strolling behind her in a blue button-down shirt and pressed gray slacks, appeared equally out of place.
“You guys realize that we’re going to be sitting in our cars half the day, right?” Vince asked, his eyes perplexed.
Amigas and School Scandals Page 3
