Ana Maria Reyes Does Not Live in a Castle

by Hilda Eunice Burgos

  Juan Miguel stood up and cleared his throat. “Señora Castillo, Mecho, Tavito, muchachas, I love Nona very much, and it would be an honor to join your wonderful family and spend the rest of my life with her. Therefore” — he turned to Abuelita and took a deep breath — “I ask your permission and your blessing to marry your daughter.”

  “Ay, gracias a Dios!” Abuelita looked at the ceiling in thanks to God. Then she jumped up and hugged Juan Miguel and Tía Nona. Soon she was crying again.

  “The wedding will be in August,” Tía Nona said. “That way all of you can come without missing any school.”

  I looked at my parents and waited. Ever since Tía Nona told me about her engagement last week, I had wondered about this moment. I had never been to the Dominican Republic nor met more than half of my family, and I was excited about the trip. But my parents were sure to say we couldn’t afford the six airplane tickets. Maybe Mami would go alone. Or she would bring Gracie because she’s the oldest, or Connie because she’s the youngest. Or even Rosie for some reason. But I was the one that belonged at Tía Nona’s wedding. Everyone should know that.

  Mami cried and hugged Tía Nona. “This is so exciting! My baby sister getting married! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Papi cleared his throat. “Of course Mecho will be there,” he said. “We would all love to go, but I don’t know if that’s possible.”

  “Oh, Tavito, all of you have to come! Juan Miguel and I will pay for everything.”

  “Yes, absolutely,” Juan Miguel said. “Money is not a problem.”

  “That’s very generous, but I can’t accept.”

  “But I need the whole family at my wedding!” Tía Nona started to cry.

  “Let’s not talk about this right now,” Mami said. “It’s time for dinner. Don’t worry, Nona, we’ll figure out a way.” She put her arm around Tía Nona and led her into the kitchen.

  As promised, nobody talked about our going to the wedding during dinner. Abuelita grilled Juan Miguel about his family and his work. He smiled as he answered all her questions, but Tía Nona scowled. “Mamá, you already know all about Juan Miguel and his family. I told you everything about him when you asked me all those same questions.”

  “Well, I’m an old lady, I can’t remember so many details.”

  Tía Nona rolled her eyes, and Mami came to the rescue. “Are you going someplace fun for your honeymoon?”

  Tía Nona put her fork down and rested her chin on top of her interlaced fingers. Her dimples were super deep now. “Juan Miguel is being very mysterious about the honeymoon. I’ve been instructed to take two weeks off of work, and to pack swimwear and evening dresses. But he won’t tell me anything else.”

  Juan Miguel put his thumb and forefinger together, twisted his hand in front of his mouth, then tossed an imaginary thing to the side. “My lips are locked,” he said, “and I have thrown away the key.” His white teeth sparkled.

  “Aw, that’s so romantic.” Mami smiled and looked at Papi. Mami thinks everything is romantic. For their honeymoon, she and Papi took the ferry to the Statue of Liberty with a picnic lunch. They snapped lots of pictures when they reached the top of the statue and then they went back to Manhattan for dinner in Chinatown. Mami says it was a clear day and the view of the city from the ferry was beautiful.

  Papi was staring down at his food, and did not look up.

  “Have you picked out your dress yet?” Abuelita asked Tía Nona.

  “Yes, let me show you.” Tía Nona got up and went into the living room to reach into her bag. She came back and handed a photo to Abuelita.

  Abuelita squinted at the picture as she held it with her arm stretched out in front of her. “Oh,” she said with a frown. “You’re going to wear this to a church?”

  Tía Nona closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. “What’s wrong with the dress, Mamá?”

  “Well, it’s so . . . revealing. It doesn’t seem appropriate for a decent woman.”

  My aunt rolled her eyes again and looked at Mami.

  “May I see it?” Gracie asked. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she said as she looked at the photo. “Strapless dresses are really in style!”

  Abuelita opened her mouth but Mami came to the rescue again. “So, tomorrow is our Altagracia’s big day!”

  Tía Nona nodded. “We’re so excited about it! Should we come here, or meet you at the school?”

  Then Mami went on and on about the details of Gracie’s graduation, where to meet, what time, blah, blah, blah. We never got back to talking about the wedding. Actually, Papi didn’t say a word the whole dinner. I couldn’t believe I had the chance to visit another country, meet the rest of my family, and go to my favorite aunt’s wedding, and Papi might ruin it by being so stubborn. Maybe there was a way to convince him to let us go. There had to be. I would come up with some good reasons and talk him into it. But I had to do it fast.

  Chapter 7

  The next day, the school gym was filled with folding chairs facing the stage, all ready for graduation. Mami and Papi got there early and saved eight seats together for our whole family. A very pregnant woman rushed in when the ceremony was just starting and paced up and down the aisles, looking for an empty seat. Mami waved her over, then put Connie on her lap so the woman could sit in Connie’s seat. Abuelita got all bent out of shape about that. “Now where’s Lalo going to sit?” she said in a much-too-loud whisper. Mami didn’t answer.

  First Sarita Gómez played “The Star-Spangled Banner” on the piano. I listened closely as she played. Doña Dulce said I had perfected the national anthem when she taught me to play it last year. But Sarita’s version seemed kind of different. Better. Maybe it was all that extra time she got to practice alone in Doña Dulce’s house. Everyone clapped and cheered when Sarita finished. Some people had tears in their eyes.

  Everything after that was super boring. The principal gave a long speech about impressive young men and women making their families and community proud. Then he handed out the awards. Sarita got one for music. A whole bunch of kids got awards for making honor roll every year, meaning they never got anything worse than a B. When they called Gracie’s name, Mami nudged Papi with her elbow and said, “You see, she’s a good student.” Papi picked up the camera and snapped a picture of Gracie holding her certificate and shaking hands with the principal. It was a good thing he got that photo, because Gracie didn’t get any more awards.

  Gracie ran up to us after the ceremony and started the hugs. Tía Nona and Juan Miguel told her she looked beautiful in her teal dress, and Abuelita grabbed Gracie’s face and planted a big red kiss on her forehead. Papi said he was very proud and that he had taken a great photo of her.

  Then we heard a voice shout, “Hello, hello, hello!” It was Tío Lalo walking toward us with a ginormous bouquet of roses.

  Papi leaned down and muttered in Mami’s ear, “I hope he didn’t steal those.”

  Thank goodness Abuelita didn’t hear that. She would have flipped out.

  “Where is the beautiful graduate?” Tío Lalo gave the flowers to Gracie and hugged her tightly. “Now, let’s celebrate!” he shouted. He raised his arms in the air and stumbled a little. Some of the other students and their fami­lies glanced at my uncle, then turned away quickly.

  “Lalo, mi amor, keep your voice down.” Abuelita put a hand on Tío Lalo’s arm. “Now, let me introduce you. Juan Miguel, this is my only son, Lalo. Since my late husband is no longer with us, God rest his soul, Lalo will walk Nona down the aisle at the wedding.”

  Tío Lalo and Tía Nona both seemed shocked at this news, but Tío Lalo recovered quickly. “My baby sister is getting married? Oh my goodness!” He grabbed Tía Nona and kissed her hard on the cheek, then shook Juan Miguel’s hand and slapped his back. “We should celebrate with a drink.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” Papi mumbled. My uncle always said he
liked to have a little drink “every now and then.” According to Papi, that meant every now and every then.

  “Hi, Anamay.” I turned around. It was Sarita with the pregnant woman. “This is my sister, Lucy.” Lucy didn’t look much older than Sarita.

  “Hi,” I said. “Um, congratulations, Sarita.”

  “Thanks!” she said. Then we just stood there and looked at each other. I realized I had never had a conversation with Sarita before, and I didn’t know what else to say.

  Mami stepped in. “Hello, Sarita! I met you a few years ago at Doña Dulce’s. How you’ve grown since then! And you played beautifully today. It was the best part of the graduation.”

  “Definitely!” I said, nodding my head.

  Sarita looked down at her shoes and smiled just a little bit. “Thank you.”

  “Do you play the piano too?” Mami asked Lucy.

  “Oh, no, that’s Sarita’s thing. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m good at.” Lucy put one hand on top of her belly and one underneath. “Maybe I’ll be a good mom.”

  “I’m sure you will be,” Mami said. “Is your family doing anything to celebrate today?” she asked Sarita.

  “No, my father’s working and . . .” Sarita bit her lower lip. “We don’t really have a mom anymore.”

  Oh no. Mami would want to adopt them now.

  “Then you should come over and celebrate with us!” she said.

  I knew it.

  “No, I couldn’t,” Sarita said. “It’s Gracie’s party.”

  “Gracie won’t mind at all.”

  “What won’t I mind at all?” Gracie had wandered off to chat with her friends, but now she was right next to us, her arms full of roses. Papi always joked that the best way to get Gracie’s attention was to whisper her name from three blocks away.

  “I’ve invited Sarita and her sister to your graduation party,” Mami said.

  “Oh, good! It’ll be so much fun!”

  Sarita smiled for real this time. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Mami fished a piece of paper out of her purse and wrote down our address. Sarita studied the note. “Is that the tall brick building at the top of the hill?” she asked.

  Mami nodded.

  “Wow. That’s a nice building.”

  “It’s the Reyes castle!” Mami laughed as she said that.

  “Can our two little brothers come?” Lucy said. “We need to pick them up from school soon.”

  “From the elementary school?” Mami said.

  Lucy and Sarita nodded.

  “They had a half day today,” Mami said. “Your brothers got out at eleven thirty.”

  “Oh.” Lucy looked at Sarita and shrugged. “I guess we should go now.”

  Wow, I thought. Rosie would freak out if she ever got picked up from school four hours late.

  “Well, go, go, go!” Mami said. “We’ll meet the four of you back at our house.”

  “Mami, can Pedro come too?” Gracie asked. Pedro walked home with us from school every day, even though he lived in the opposite direction. He looked different now, staring at the floor as he stood behind Gracie, all dressed up with his hair parted to the side and greased down.

  “Who’s Pedro?” Papi said. Gracie introduced them, and Papi shook Pedro’s hand and asked to meet his family.

  “My parents had to work,” Pedro said. “It’s just me here today.”

  “Of course you can come to our house.” Mami touched Pedro’s arm and smiled, and it looked like she wanted to adopt him too. How many kids did she want anyway?

  Chapter 8

  When Mami planned Gracie’s graduation party, it was supposed to be a quiet family gathering. But with Pedro, Sarita and her family, and a couple more friends whose parents weren’t around to celebrate with them, it was way hectic. Sarita’s brothers were like the wild dog pups I saw on a field trip to the Bronx Zoo. The boys jumped on each other for no reason, rolled around on the ground wrestling, and almost knocked Abuelita down twice. Pedro kept telling jokes and making Gracie and her friends, Vicky and Rebecca, laugh and laugh. Once Vicky spat out a whole meatball, and Rebecca had lemonade coming out of her nose. Gross. But no one was as bad as Tío Lalo in party mode. “Anamay, play something on the piano so I can sing along,” he said, swinging around a beer. Then he started singing — badly — some weird old-timey Spanish song from his childhood. I did not want to be a part of that, so I threw Sarita under the bus.

  “She’ll play for you,” I said to Tío Lalo. “She’s much better than me anyway.” Which was true. But Sarita didn’t seem fazed. She sat down at the piano and looked at my uncle expectantly.

  “Play the merengue that has the trombone part,” Tío Lalo said. Guess how many merengues have trombone parts? All of them. But still, Sarita didn’t squint at my uncle and say “Huh?” like I would have done. She just nodded, put her hands on the keys, and trilled out some beautiful notes. Tío Lalo smiled, closed his eyes, and started to serenade an imaginary dance partner. Soon everyone was clapping and singing along. Abuelita and Juan Miguel scooted the coffee table aside to make a dance floor. Even my parents danced, Papi with Connie standing on his shoes, and Mami with Rosie twirling around and around.

  My family never had this much fun when I played the piano.

  After the party, Papi and I walked Sarita and her family home. Sarita and I followed behind her brothers, who were taking turns giving each other piggyback rides. Papi and Lucy were in front of the boys. I heard him say “GED test” and “cost-free babysitting” and “happy to help you.” I smiled. Classic Papi.

  “Do you know if you’re going to Lincoln Center?” Sarita asked me.

  “No. Hasn’t Doña Dulce told you yet?”

  Sarita shook her head.

  “Well, of course you’re going. It’s the second person I wonder about,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?” Sarita said. “I don’t know if I’m going.”

  “Oh, come on, you’re Doña Dulce’s favorite.”

  “No, I’m not,” Sarita said. “Plus I don’t even think it’s her decision.”

  “But you are really good,” I said. “You’re definitely the best of Doña Dulce’s students.” I hated to admit that, but I knew it was true.

  “Oh, Anamay, you are so sweet to say that! But you’re really good too.”

  No one had ever called me sweet before. I bit back a smile. “So, what will you play if you go?” I asked.

  “Hmm, I don’t know. I’d probably talk it over with Doña Dulce. There are so many beautiful pieces to choose from.”

  “What about that Chopin piece I’ve heard you play?” I said. “Polonaise in G Minor. I can’t believe how well you play that. I’ve tried it, and I just can’t get the hang of it.”

  Sarita looked at me and smiled. “Hmm, maybe. What about you? What would you play?”

  I stepped over a rut in the sidewalk and concentrated on avoiding the cracks. “I wish I could play something other than classical music,” I said. “I taught myself to play some Alicia Keys songs, and my friend Claudia sings along. She’s got a great voice, and it’s more fun to play songs that have lyrics. They make more sense.”

  “More sense? How?”

  “Well, that way I know if a song is happy, sad, or what.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” Sarita said. “I never thought of that. Usually, the notes, melody, and tempo speak to me. Words aren’t necessary.”

  Maybe that explained why Sarita was so good. I wondered if I could learn to understand music like that.

  Papi held the door open for us when we got to Sarita’s building. The boys tumbled toward the stairs. “Wait,” Papi said. He pressed the elevator button.

  “Oh, that doesn’t work,” Lucy said. She held on to the banister and climbed up behind her brothers. Papi followed them. Sarita and I were
still at the back.

  As we passed by Doña Dulce’s apartment on the second floor, Sarita said, “Should we ask about Lincoln Center?”

  I looked at her. Would Doña Dulce be annoyed? Probably. I shook my head. We kept going.

  By the time we got to the sixth floor, I was breathing loudly. Papi took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed the sweat off his forehead. Sarita and her family weren’t even a little out of breath.

  Lucy took out her key, then turned to her brothers and whispered, “Remember, Papi’s asleep, so be quiet.” She unlocked the door and they stormed inside. “Would you like to come in and have a glass of lemonade?” Lucy asked Papi and me.

  My mouth watered.

  “No, thank you, we have to go now,” Papi said. Papi never wanted to be “an imposition.”

  “Thank you for inviting us to your wonderful party, Mr. Reyes,” Sarita said. “Papi’s going to love this food.” She pointed with her chin at the foil-covered plate in her hands.

  “He sure is,” Lucy said. “Your wife’s cooking is way better than mine, and Papi’s always starving before his night job.”

  “It was our pleasure,” Papi said. “And remember to call us if you need anything.”

  As Papi and I walked downstairs, I thought about how I would have him all to myself for the whole walk home, and I knew just what to talk about. I had come up with all my arguments last night before bed. When we got outside, I said, “Why don’t you want us to go to the DR?”

  “It’s not that, Ana María. I would love it if we could all go, but we just can’t afford it.” Papi put his hands in his pockets and walked with long strides.

  I ran to keep up. “But Tía Nona and Juan Miguel said they’d pay for it.”

  “It wouldn’t be right to make them pay for us.”

  “Why not? You heard Juan Miguel. His family has a ton of money. His parents own all those hotels, and he had a nanny when he was a kid!”

  Papi chuckled. “Just because they have more money than we do doesn’t mean they should pay for our trips.”