Mami kept slathering sunscreen on my little sisters and telling Gracie and me to put some on too. I did at first, but then I had too much fun in the water to bother reapplying it. When we went back inside, my shoulders were bright red and what should have been a wonderful shower was very painful. I should have listened to my mother.
The day ended with a lobster dinner at a fancy restaurant in the hotel. Our family sat at two tables — one for the grown-ups and one for the kids. Pepito and Juancito cracked us up doing impressions of all the snooty people we met that day, but they made sure to speak softly so Tía Nona and Juan Miguel and his family wouldn’t notice.
I felt a little guilty about making fun of my aunt’s friends. We wouldn’t even be here having such a great time if it weren’t for her and her fiancé’s family. So I couldn’t decide if I should join my cousins and sisters in the fun, or if I should scold them and stick up for Tía Nona’s friends. I ended up enjoying my cousins’ impressions. After all, maybe those people were just acquaintances and my aunt was only being polite to them. And she was nothing like them, right?
When we finished eating, I watched the waitresses and busboys running around with sweat on their foreheads, hauling huge trays of dishes. I wondered if Clarisa would ever get to enjoy a place like this.
***
We spent most of the next day at the beach again, and piled into the van to head back in the early evening. “I need to go to the clinic tomorrow,” Tía Nona said, looking at her phone. “Some patients are asking about me, and I have to complete some paperwork before I go off on my honeymoon.”
“Do you want us to finish the champagne bottles?” Mami asked.
“No, there aren’t that many more to do,” Tía Nona said. “We can finish them on Friday. Just enjoy yourselves tomorrow.”
So Tía Chea dropped Gracie, Muñeca, and me off at Tía Nona’s house the next day, then went back to help Tío Pepe and the boys on the farm. “Don’t get too used to this,” she told her daughter. “When your cousins go home to the United States, it’s back to work for you, young lady.”
“I know, I know.” Muñeca grabbed Gracie’s hand, and the two of them started to run off.
“Where are you two going?” Tía Chea called.
“To socialize with the neighbors!” My sister and cousin kept moving. I had heard Muñeca tell Gracie that some cute fourteen-year-old twin boys lived near Tía Nona.
Tía Chea probably knew about those boys, because she shook her head and shouted for all the world to hear, “You come back here if their parents aren’t home!”
After Tía Chea left, my parents, my little sisters, and Abuelita sat on the porch and entertained a stream of visitors. Everyone acted like we were celebrities or something. “You’re the one who hasn’t been back in sixteen years!” a bunch of people said to Mami. I went inside to practice piano. The wedding was two days away and I had to perfect Prelude in C Major. It wasn’t too tough, but everyone would be watching and I would be nervous.
Clarisa came in while I was practicing. “That sounds good,” she said after I had played it twice.
“Thanks. Do you want me to play something for you to sing?”
Clarisa smiled and reached into the front pocket of her shorts. “Do you know this song?” She handed me a wrinkled sheet of paper.
I took it from her. It was an old merengue by the Dominican singer Johnny Ventura. “I’ve never played this before,” I said. “But I’ve heard it.” At Gracie’s graduation party, actually. Could I play this like Sarita did?
“This is my favorite song,” Clarisa said. She sang a few lines and danced along without waiting for me to join her on the piano. “Guess what?” she said suddenly. “I’m moving to Santo Domingo with my mother.”
“Really? When?”
Clarisa looked at her hands. “I’m not sure. Whenever she makes enough money to get a place big enough for the whole family.”
“Where does she work?”
“She sings at a nightclub and she’s really good. Right now she just gets food, a free room, and fancy dresses to wear on stage, but her boss says that when the club starts to make more money, they’ll pay her. And he said I can work with her when I’m thirteen.”
“Wow. No wonder you’re so good. It’s in your blood.”
Clarisa blushed. “I can’t wait until I’m thirteen.”
“What about school?” I said.
“I don’t need school anymore,” Clarisa said.
“Oh,” I said, “are you allowed to drop out of school at your age?”
Clarisa shrugged. “My parents don’t make me go anymore. There’s no time for that. But . . . could you show me how you know which notes to play?” She sat down next to me at the piano.
In less than an hour, Clarisa was reading music. Well, all the notes around middle C at least, which was really impressive. She was so smart. It was a shame that she didn’t want to keep going to school.
“I’m going to miss you when you go back to the United States,” Clarisa said.
“I’ll miss you too. Maybe I can teach you to play a song, and then we’ll think of each other when we play it.”
“I’m not allowed to touch this piano. I’m only playing now because you’re here.”
“Oh.” I wondered if I should say something to my aunt about that. Would she give Clarisa permission to practice for a little while each day? I wanted to believe that she would, but I had to admit that I didn’t really think so. “Maybe you can get your own instrument, something small to play at home — ”
“Cosita! Cosita!” The cook was calling her.
Clarisa jumped up. “I’ll see you later!” she said with a big smile on her face.
I wondered how Clarisa could be so cheerful when she had so little. I got whiny just because my parents didn’t want to pay for the Eleanor School. Would anything ever upset Clarisa?
Chapter 28
The day before Tía Nona’s wedding, we went back to her house and finished decorating the champagne bottles. After lunch, everyone sat on the porch and talked. I couldn’t stop thinking about Clarisa, though. She was probably cleaning up the lunch dishes all by herself. It didn’t seem fair. She was just a kid. Did she ever get to play or relax?
“I’m going inside to practice piano,” I said.
“Oh, good,” Tía Nona said. “We want my wedding song to be perfect.” She gave me a wink and a smile.
I walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. Clarisa was leaning into the sink, her back to the kitchen doorway. I walked over and saw that she was scrubbing a giant pot. Soap suds had climbed up to her elbows.
“Hi,” I said.
Clarisa dropped the pot with a clang. “Oh, hi. Can I get you something?”
“No,” I said. “I was just wondering if you need any help.”
“Did your aunt send you?”
“No, she doesn’t know I’m here.”
Clarisa closed her eyes for a second and let out a long breath. “Oh, good. Well, no, I can do this myself.” She turned back to the sink and picked up the soapy pot.
“But I want to help,” I said. “I wash dishes at home all the time. It’s faster when there are two of us.” I picked up a dish towel. “Here, I’ll dry.”
“No! Go away! You’ll get me in trouble.”
“What are you talking about? You can’t get in trouble because of me.” I lifted a wet frying pan out of the drying rack.
Clarisa jammed the sponge into the pot, splashing soapy water out of the sink and onto her chest. She breathed heavily and her nostrils flared as she started scrubbing again.
I didn’t care if she was too proud to admit she could use some help. I was going to stay and dry those dishes. “When we finish, we can go play music and sing some more,” I said. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“No, we can’t
do that today,” Clarisa said. “Not with your aunt here.”
There was a scratching sound at the kitchen door. “What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just ignore it.”
What was Clarisa’s problem? She was acting so weird. I put the towel down and went to the door. I opened it a crack and saw a man with a boy about Connie’s size. Other than a dusty pair of sneakers, the boy was completely naked. Completely. The man wore a tattered hat and a stained short-sleeved shirt over faded plaid pants. He had a stump where his left hand should be, and he held the little boy’s hand in his right hand.
I opened the door the whole way. “Hello,” I said. “Can I help you?”
The man looked at me with big eyes. “I’m sorry, señorita,” he said. “We didn’t mean to trouble anyone.”
“But who are you?” I said.
“That’s my father, and he was just leaving.” Clarisa stood next to me. “Papá, I told you not to bother me at work.”
“But your brother hasn’t eaten since yesterday,” he said.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Clarisa said. “You know the rules here. I can’t take any food until it’s time to go home. Do you want to get me fired?”
“No, no, of course not. But I just thought that — for your brother — he’s been sick and — ”
“Go away!” Clarisa slammed the door and stomped back to the sink.
I opened the door again. Clarisa’s father and brother were walking away slowly. The boy stumbled. I could see his ribs, even from where I was standing. “Wait!” I called out. Clarisa’s father stopped and turned around. “I’ll get you some food,” I said.
“God bless you, señorita.” They ran back to the kitchen door.
“Okay, wait here.” I turned to Clarisa. “Does my aunt have any paper plates?”
“We can’t do this,” Clarisa said. “I’ll lose my job.”
“No you won’t.” I opened some cabinets until I found the paper plates. I took one and dished out some rice, black beans, codfish, avocado slices — a little of everything we had just eaten for lunch. I grabbed a spoon and went outside to hand the plate to Clarisa’s brother.
The boy sat down right there on the ground and dug in. “He’s been coughing a lot,” his father explained as we watched him eat. “It’s not good to go all day without eating if you’re coming down with something.”
I nodded, although it seemed to me no one should go all day without eating, even if you weren’t coming down with something. “Would you like a plate too, señor?”
“Oh, no, I can wait until Clarisa comes home.”
“What’s going on here?” Tía Nona walked up behind Clarisa’s father and glared at him. “How many times have I told you to stop bothering my family and friends? Cosita! Cosita! Come here!”
Clarisa appeared in an instant, her soapy hands dripping beside her.
“Take off the apron and leave!” Tía Nona said. “This is the last straw! I have warned you over and over about this!”
“No!” I said. I stood in front of Clarisa to shield her from my aunt. “It’s not her fault! I offered him food! I brought it to him! He didn’t bother anybody! And she didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t know any better.” Tía Nona put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a light squeeze. “But we can’t let these people take advantage of us like that.” She turned back to Clarisa and her voice became harsh again. “What are you waiting for, Cosita? Take your family and go!”
Clarisa’s eyes hardened on me. “You got me fired!” she said through her clenched jaw. Then she ran off, her father and her brother at her heels.
Clarisa was right. This was all my fault.
“Why did you do that?” I asked Tía Nona. She looked blurry through my tears.
“Rules are rules.” She didn’t look upset at all, as if she hadn’t just ruined a whole family’s life.
“But they’re hungry, and there’s so much food here! How can you treat anyone like that?”
Tía Nona smiled and tilted her head like she was talking to a dumb little baby. “You don’t know how to deal with these kinds of people, Anamay. That Cosita was nothing but trouble.”
“Stop calling her Cosita! Her name is Clarisa! How would you like it if everyone called you Brujita because you’re a mean old witch?!”
Tía Nona’s mouth dropped open. I turned and ran.
Chapter 29
I wiped the tears from my face as I ran away from Tía Nona’s house. I had to get as far away from my horrible aunt as possible. I remembered from the van ride that, to get back to Tía Chea’s house, I had to go past the old pump well that Mami had used when she was a little girl, then go right at the turquoise building with the word “COLMADO” painted in fire-engine red above the outside counter. Then I’d find my way to Tía Chea’s house and then . . . then what?
The afternoon sun was super bright and hot. By the time I reached the well, I was sweating and out of breath. I stopped running and decided to walk the rest of the way. I jumped when I heard a car horn. It was Tía Chea in her van. She stopped and Mami got out of the van. “Ana María Reyes, get in here right now!”
Mami stood beside the open van door. I looked at her for a few seconds, wondering if I had any other choice. I decided I didn’t.
When we had both climbed inside, Mami turned to me and frowned. “Anamay, what has gotten into you?”
I looked at my lap and shrugged.
“You have to go back and apologize to your aunt.”
I lifted my head and faced Mami. “But she was wrong!” I turned away and watched a yellow-and-green house across the road. Two eyes stared at me through a window made of horizontal wooden slats. When I looked back at them, the shutters slammed shut.
Mami took my hands in hers. “Anamay, look at me.” I obeyed. “You were right to stick up for that little girl, but you were wrong to be rude and disrespectful to your aunt. Nona’s not perfect, but she’s family and she loves you.”
“She most certainly is not perfect,” Tía Chea said. “But I put up with her anyway.”
“We all put up with each other,” Mami said. “That’s one of the great things about family. Nobody’s perfect, but we still love and support one another.”
I looked at Mami’s hands. They were warm and strong and I knew she wouldn’t let go until I was ready. Tía Nona didn’t deserve an apology, but I could see this was important to Mami. And maybe I could convince my aunt to give Clarisa her job back. After all, maybe Tía Nona just didn’t understand what had happened. Once I explained it to her, she would surely do the right thing.
***
Abuelita and Tía Nona were sitting in the chairs on the porch, but they stopped rocking when we got out of the van. Gracie and Muñeca watched from the front steps. Abuelita stood up. “Chea and Mecho, come inside and help me clean up the kitchen,” she said.
“You too, girls,” Mami said to Gracie and Muñeca. They got up and followed the grown-ups without argument.
I stood in front of Tía Nona. She was wearing a big diamond-studded pendant on a chain around her neck, and I kept my eyes on that. “I’m sorry for speaking to you so rudely, Tía Nona. It was wrong of me and I hope you will forgive me.” I sounded like a robot, but I didn’t care.
“Oh, of course I forgive you!” Tía Nona wrapped me in her arms. She let go and held me by the shoulders. “But am I really a mean old witch?” She had a big smile on her face.
I forced myself to smile a little. “No. I was just mad, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. But I didn’t mean it, honest I didn’t.”
“Oh, I know.” Tía Nona hugged me again.
Now was my chance. “But you know . . . Clarisa didn’t do anything wrong. She told me not to open the door for her father, but I did it anyway. Then she told me not to give him any food, and
I didn’t listen to her. You should be mad at me, not her.”
Tía Nona gave me that poor-dumb-baby look again. “Oh, Anamay, I know you feel responsible, but believe me, you’re not. This is Cosita’s father’s fault for coming here in the first place. He’s the one who wants her to work, so he has to follow the rules.”
“But what if they starve to death? Won’t you feel guilty?”
“Ay, mamita, you worry too much. They’ll be fine.” Tía Nona put her arm around my shoulder and led me toward the door. “Let’s not think about anything unpleasant today. Tomorrow is the most important day of my life! Let’s focus on that, okay?”
“Can’t you give her one more chance? Please?”
Tía Nona put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I’ve given Cosita too many chances already. Now, please, let’s get back to important things.” She turned and walked into the house. The door swung shut behind her.
I stood there and looked at the closed door. Tía Nona seemed different from the person I always thought I knew — a person who cared about other people and treated them fairly. How could I have been so wrong about her? And now that I knew the real Tía Nona, could things ever be the same again? I put my head down and walked into the house slowly.
My family was in the kitchen, cleaning up and talking wedding stuff. I thought about Clarisa as I put away some dishes. Under that holey shirt, did her ribs stick out like her little brother’s? When would they eat again?
“I need to practice piano,” I said.
“Oh sure, go ahead!” Tía Nona shooed me away with a smile.
I couldn’t concentrate on Prelude in C Major, so I put my hands on the piano and let them play “Für Elise” without giving it much thought. I was thinking about Clarisa instead. It wasn’t fair that she was only eleven and she had to work to feed her family. That was too much responsibility for a kid. What could I do to help her? Maybe if I talked to her, she would tell me. Or would she be too mad? Would she forget that we were friends and just see my aunt’s niece when she looked at me — the girl who got her fired? My fingers pressed on the piano’s firm, hardly used keys, and the sounds were clear, crisp, sweet, and sad at the same time.
Ana Maria Reyes Does Not Live in a Castle Page 12
