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.