“I know. But he wasn’t the perfect dad. He was really athletic, and so was my brother. They played football together. Watched games. Real 1950s stuff.”
“What about you?”
“I wasn’t particularly big on sports, although he often took Stephen and I bowling. I was a gamer nerd. I spent all my time on my consoles.” His fingers tweaked one of the pinwheels in my hair. “For a long time, Dad wasn’t into video games at all. Thought it rotted our heads. I felt like he disapproved of me, like I couldn’t do anything right because I wasn’t on some sports team.”
“You’re not exactly selling me on dads here.”
“Hold on. Something changed him when I was ten or so. I guess he realized he was spending more time with Stephen than me. I don’t know. Maybe Mom guilted him or something.”
“So, he played video games with you?” I tried to picture young Tucker, the version I saw in pictures at Gram’s house.
“He did. And he actually liked the racing games. Mario Kart and all that. We’d play for hours until Mom made us stop for dinner.”
“He figured out a way to be your dad, too. Not just Stephen’s.”
“He did. And I let go of all the years I felt he wasn’t areal dad to me. Let myself be his kid again, at least while I had him.”
I blew out a long breath. “You’ve made your point. Let me think about it.”
That weekend Josefina, a girl from my photography class, called me in a panic. Her cousin Rita was having her quinceañera, a super fancy fifteenth birthday party. Since Josefina was studying photography, she’d been roped into taking the pictures.
She was terrified she’d miss something important, like the last doll or the rose ceremony. Would I please, please be her backup? I could use the photos in my portfolio if I ever wanted to book events.
I instantly said yes. My professor had told us that building a portfolio was the most important step in preparing to charge money for taking pictures. As much as I loved Big Harry and our crew at his diner, I did not want to be a waitress forever.
I arrived at the church as fifteen-year-old Rita waited by the back door to be escorted inside with her parents. Josefina circled the family, snapping away.
I immediately began photographing Rita. Her bright blue dress tufted out around her like a bell, thousands of ruffles aligned in perfect rows.
When Josefina spotted me, her shoulders relaxed. “Thank God you made it, Ava. I’m already exhausted, and I’ve only done the preparation pictures!”
“Where do you want me?”
Josefina stationed me along the side wall of the church for the religious part of the ceremony. Rita’s parents ledher to the altar to be blessed. The words were all in Spanish, but I picked up a few of them. I concentrated on the lighting, snapping the solemn faces.
The tone of the event completely changed after everyone moved to the adjacent banquet hall. Several young couples were announced as they entered, like royalty in old movies. Josefina leaned in as Rita stood alone in a spotlight. “Rita wanted to walk in with her girlfriend as escort, but her family wouldn’t let her.”
“Why not?”
“Appearances.” Josefina shook her head. “The abuelas would have had a fit. At least her parents haven’t stopped them from dating. That’s something. Still wrecking her big day, though.”
“Is the girlfriend here?”
“No. It was too hard. Oh, time for the tiara.”
We parted again, wildly snapping images as the mother approached Rita to place a crown on her head. I had never seen anything as beautiful and elaborate as their dresses and hair.
An elderly woman moved forward with a pair of high-heeled shoes that matched Rita’s blue dress. I quickly zoomed in on them, bright and sparkling in the woman’s wrinkled hands.
Rita lifted her hem and stepped out of her flat white shoes to wear the heels instead. I understood now. This was her transition into womanhood.
Her father approached, and the DJ played a slow, languid song in Spanish. The two of them danced alone across the room. Many of the women brought out handkerchiefs to dab their eyes.
I took a dozen shots, then lowered my camera. The father smiled down at his daughter. Despite whateverproblems they were having with the decision not to allow her girlfriend to escort her, in this moment, he seemed happy and proud. She gazed up at him with shining eyes, and my stomach knotted.
So this is what Tucker had meant about his dad. About family. You can have problems and still find ways to love each other.
While loading the images on my computer that night to review my shots, I couldn’t stop thinking about the quinceañera. It wasn’t just the father-daughter dance. It was all the family.Abuelos, grandparents.Tías y tíos, aunts and uncles. And so many cousins. All those people, related to you, there to celebrate your birthday. I’d never seen anything like it.
