Chapter 21
After the movie, I plunked down for another meal of chicken breast and plantains. I called it “el usual. ” Vince thought I was crazy for eating the same thing repeatedly, but it didn’t bother me. Puerto Rican mofongo and asopao just wasn’t my thing.
The fact that my aunt had time to make dinner amazed me. The house had become Ground Zero for the Quinceañera. Every surface in the kitchen was covered with a pot, pan, or foil-covered dish. I had never seen anyone make rice for one hundred and twenty-two people before, nor had I ever seen “calderas” large enough to conquer such a task. It was utter chaos. The air was so full of pepper and cilantro from the sofrito that I was fairly certain it would never be expunged from the fabrics in the house. Not to mention, the constant use of the oven and stove was doing nothing to help the sweltering temperatures. I couldn’t stand in the kitchen for more than a minute without getting dizzy. The only one my aunt permitted to help with the cooking was Angelica—my Uncle Miguel and cousins Juan and Alonzo were busy trying to construct a tent on the recently machete-pruned lawn.
The party was in two days and the birthday girl, Lilly, was downgraded to sleeping on the couch. Her room was now storage central. It was filled with party favors, dishes, tablecloths, folding tables and chairs, champagne flutes (plastic and glass), flatware, and centerpieces. Everything was so strategically placed that if you pulled one item out, the room’s entire contents would fall over. I had never been to a wedding at home, but I imagined the scene would be similar. I couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t prefer to leave all this mess up to the banquet staff at a hotel ballroom.
But despite the cooking, cleaning, sewing and landscaping, everyone still found time to sit down to dinner, together, and fight over the pegao. With the amount of Puerto Rican rice my aunt was cooking, there were plenty of crusty bottom remnants to go around. Even I ate some.
“You know, that movie was lame. I figured out the ending, like, halfway through,” I noted between mouthfuls. “And I’m still surprised that it was in English.”
“Puerto Rico is part of America,” Lilly stated as she gulped down her water and dug her fork back into her plate.
“Not really,” Vince mumbled.
“Yes, really,” Lilly snipped.
“Anyway,” I interjected. “Back in Spring Mills, you would really have to go out of your way to find a movie that wasn’t in English.”
“Well, this isn’t Spring Mills.” Lilly sighed. “So . . . what’s the deal with this Sweet Sixteen you’re missing?”
“It’s for my best friend. It’s going to be amazing. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“Except you.”
“Pretty much.”
“And you’re really pissed at your dad.”
“Pretty much.Are you still mad at your mom?” I whispered.
“No. How could I be? I’m not a complete brat. I realize she’s been slaving away over this party. I just wish—”
“That she listened to you,” I interjected.
“Exactly. So your friend’s party is tomorrow; we must, like, have the same birthday,” Lilly pointed out.
“No, her birthday isn’t for another two weeks, but this is the only date she could get at the hotel, and it’s a Friday. Madison freaked when she found out. It was a huge deal.You really don’t want to hear it. But trust me when I say there’s an event planner in Philadelphia who almost lost her life.”
Lilly laughed. “Wow, event planners and hotels. You must think my party is pretty lame, huh?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. Compared to Madison’s, Lilly’s party was a cheap knock-off. It would have all the glitz and glamour of my third-grade birthday party, and there certainly were not going to be any Orlando Bloom sightings. Given the choice, I would hop a plane back to Philadelphia in a heartbeat—but I didn’t have a choice, that was the point.
“I’m sure your party’s gonna be nice,” I answered, staring at my plate.
“Uh-huh,” Lilly said, with a half chuckle. “So, you dance, right?”
“That depends.Will there be ballet at your party?”
“I hope not,” she quipped.
“Then I can’t make any promises.”
Back home, I was one of the best ballerinas in my company. But I never branched into other styles. My instructors always scorned me for lacking a dancer’s “passion.”The elevation of my jumps, the extension of my arms, the flexibility in my back couldn’t be beat, but they said I “didn’t feel the music.” And they were probably right, given that I had no idea what “feeling” the music even meant.
Lilly paused for several seconds. It seemed like she was debating whether to ask me something.
Finally, she opened her mouth. “So you’re missing a lot back home. Are you pissed that your friends are in that movie and you’re not?”
“No, why would I be?” I stated a little too quickly.
“Well, because back at the café you sounded kinda of mad at them. . . .”
“I’m not mad, I just wish I could be in it too.”
“So you’re jealous.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“It’s okay if you’re jealous. Everyone gets jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I just miss them.”
“Okay, fine. Do you think they miss you too?”
“Of course!”
The question was absurd. Of course they missed me. They’d cried at the airport.They wrote me tons of e-mails. I’m sure that they wished that I could be on the set with them, and that they were distraught that I was missing the big party. I knew they were thinking of me.
“So you’re gonna listen to that radio thingy tomorrow morning?”
“Definitely.”
“Can I come?” she asked, her eyes focused on her plate, which held only a few remnants of sauce from the food she’d scarfed down.
“You wanna come? But you don’t even know them. And it’s at six-thirty in the morning.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”
“No, no. It’s fine. It’ll be cool for you to hear their voices. You’ll get to know them in a way.”
“All right, it’s a plan.”
That night, Lilly and I sat on the porch staring at the big white party tent, chatting and listening to the tiny frogs chirp. The green-and-brown coquis were only about an inch in size (I hadn’t seen one, but I could hear thousands) and they sang through the darkness. I slept to the sound of the frogs every night. So far, it was my favorite thing about the island.