Chapter Three

An hour later, while I’m watching my favorite morning cartoons and Mom scribbles in her day planner, Nick comes downstairs from his room. He has a blanket wrapped around him and heads toward the pancakes without saying a word to us.

“Hola, niño.” Mom hands him a plate.

Nick smiles sleepily in return.

“Okay, ahora que estamos juntos,” Mom begins, commenting that we’re all together, “what’s on the agenda this Sunday?”

Nick and I look at each other. We both know what the answer is: “Homework.”

He adds, “And I’ve got a shift at the pizzeria this afternoon.”

Even though I don’t have as much homework as Nick, I do have more homework than I had in third grade. Last year, I’d maybe have a big project or two that we had to work on for a few weeks, like the presentation I did on marine biology. I was so nervous, but I ended up getting an A! But this year, we have homework almost every night, even on the weekends. This weekend, I have to complete a worksheet on long division and write a poem about my favorite subject. Other kids might complain about having more homework, but I like it. It makes me feel grown up like Mom and Nick.

Mom asks, “Do either of you need my help with homework?”

“Maybe?” I reply, while Nick shakes his head.

Mom says, “Let’s go over your homework now, Stella, and see if anything is tricky.”

I nod excitedly. I love it when Mom has the time to help me.

“Then I’ll run some errands,” she says as she reviews her day planner. “It’s going to be a busy week at the radio station. We’re getting ready for the big Mexican Independence Day festival and the rest of the fall events, like Día de los Muertos.”

Mom looks at her hands. “Hopefully, I can get my nails done today, too.”

Even though Mom is busy, she always tries to have “me time” at the nail salon. She says that the right nail color brings her good luck.

I move from the kitchen counter to get my backpack when suddenly there is a knock at the front door.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Mom asks, looking at us.

Nick and I shake our heads.

“Maybe Jenny left something behind,” she says.

Nick says, “Or maybe it’s Linda.”

I clap my hands together. “And Biscuit!”

I look forward to any opportunity to see our neighbor Linda and her adorable Chihuahua.

Mom walks to the door, and I follow her like a puppy. But to our surprise, it’s not Linda. It’s quite the opposite of Linda. Instead of an older woman, it’s a man around Mom’s age. He’s wearing a Cubs baseball cap, and he looks a little sweaty.

“Hello. How can I help you?” Mom asks in her deep, serious voice, the one she uses whenever she is trying to sound fierce.

He waves his hand to say hello. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m your new neighbor. I just moved into the apartment across the street.”

He points at the brick house with the blue door and petunias in its flower boxes. When I look over, I notice the FOR RENT sign that was on the lawn is now gone.

“Oh, hi,” Mom replies. Her right eyebrow is still cautiously raised.

He continues, “I’ve got my moving van temporarily double-parked. I am just checking with the neighbors that I’m not blocking anyone in.”

I notice he has an accent like Mom’s. I wonder if he speaks Spanish, too.

“It’s no problem,” Mom says, smiling. “Thanks for checking!”

“I really appreciate it.” He sighs. “It should be only an hour at most. It’s just me and my daughter, Izzy. We don’t have a ton of stuff.”

“Daughter?” I say without thinking.

He smiles. “Yup! She’s a little older than you, I think.”

“Izzy is a cute name.” Mom extends her hand. “I’m Perla, by the way.”

“Diego,” he replies, shaking her hand. “¡Mucho gusto!”

I smile at Mom. He does, indeed, speak Spanish! I wonder if he is from Mexico like us. While I barely remember Mexico because we moved to Chicago when I was a baby, Mom grew up there and has never lost her accent. Though I never notice Mom’s accent until strangers point it out. She just sounds like Mom to me.

“Igualmente, Diego. If you need anything, let us know!”

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” I add. I turn a little roja when I say it. I’m still kind of shy around new people.

“¡Gracias! I better run,” says Diego. Walking away, he adds, “¡Adiós!”

“Hasta pronto,” Mom replies with a wave.

Mom closes the door and looks at me.

“Well, he seems like he’ll be a nice addition to the neighborhood,” she says.

I nod. He may be a stranger, but he does have a daughter. Maybe Izzy and I can be friends! Better yet—maybe she’ll want to be a Sea Musketeer, too! The Sea Musketeers is a club I started with some of the kids who attended summer camp with me at the Shedd Aquarium. And my school friends Jenny and Stanley joined, too. Our mission: to help protect the oceans. We could always use more members in the crusade!

“We should make them some food tonight once we’re done with all our chores and errands,” Mom says. “It’ll be neighborly. Plus, it will be a relaxing activity before the busy week.”

“You should make a quesadilla, but the one mi abuela makes, not the tortilla one,” I suggest, licking my lips as I think about the cheesy sweet bread from El Salvador. It’s very different from the Mexican kind but just as delicioso. I add, “And I can be the official taste tester.”

“Deal, but only after you put the camping gear back in the closet,” Mom replies, looking outside at the backyard.

I turn roja again. I had forgotten the worst part of camping is packing everything up. I nod, and then we shake hands to seal the deal.