“Ma. Whatever you’re thinking, déjalo.”
“Cuando tengas hijos te acordarás de mí,” she says, and before I know it, she’s whisking me off to the dance floor.
She pushes her way past the other couples until we are right next to Junior and Isa.
“Nino!” Junior exclaims, and I fist bump him.
I think I’m safe from any of my mother’s shenanigans after the first two songs fly by, but when the music shifts to a slower tempo, I see the mischief in her eyes. Before I can ask her what she’s up to, she is latching onto Junior.
“Ay, mijo, help me. I’m not feeling too good,” she says.
“Oh no. I can help you,” Isa says, reaching for her.
“No!” The refusal is curt. “I mean, Junior can help me. Manny can take his place.”
Isa looks around at everyone coupling up. My heart races outside my chest like I’m back at those shitty middle school dances. I feign confidence, though, and hold my hand out to her.
“Isabella. Would you like to dance with me?”
She smiles and nods her head before taking my hand in hers. The warm touch sends tingles through my body. I pull her close but not too close, just enough that I can take in the smell of her. Fanning my fingers around the small of her back and swaying us to the beat, she closes the gap, dropping her hand from mine and wrapping her arms around my neck.
I stare into her eyes with a sense of ease. The song is saying everything I can’t.If you’re ever gonna love me, do it right now.It was a foolish thought to think I could ever have her the way I wanted, but I let my mind take off with the possibility and get lost in the lyrics.
“I get why my mom and Desmond would come together to pick up Junior,” she says, breaking the silence.
“Oh yeah.” I laugh. “They are the last ones to leave half the time.”
“I believe it. Do you do this every week?”
“As often as I can. It was important to my dad.”
“Your dad was a good man.”
Maybe it’s the need to feel comforted in the moment, or maybe it’s the night sky descending, but I pull her closer to me. She rests her head on my shoulder.
“How have you managed so long without him?” she whispers.
I don’t have an answer for her. Not the one she’s expecting, at least.
“I don’t. Not always. I just learn how to live with the short time I did have with him.”
My father had passed away before I was sixteen years old. I had to become the man of the house earlier than I anticipated, putting off my dreams to run Chavez Mechanics. I learned quickly, though, that grief was a universal emotion that none of us understood.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when he passed,” Isa says.
She wasn’t there, but her father had shown up that day. He had been the one to tell me that I’d get through it and checked in on me. He had been like a father in place of my own. We exchanged promises the last time I visited him in the hospital. I want to tell Isa what he told me - how proud he was of her - but the song is over beforeI can even say everything I want to.
7
ISABEL
Passive aggressive menus and Chisme
“These kids weren’t built like us,” I complain.
I’ve been complaining about Peso Pulga to anyone who will listen. He wasn’t taking the practices serious, and there was always some drama with him and Dolly every week.
On top of that I was convinced all these kids were speaking another language.
