Chapter Two

While we are pretty sure there is nothing in the backyard, Jenny and I end up sleeping in the living room, just in case. Nick helps me put The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau on the television so that Jenny and I can fall asleep to Jacques’s gentle French accent.

Watching Jacques and his group exploring the oceans is captivating. The whooshing sound of the divers breathing heavily in their scuba masks also makes my eyes heavy.

“I almost forgot!” Jenny says, sitting up in her sleeping bag.

“What?” I ask, yawning. All the commotion must have made me sleepy.

“You’re going to love this.”

I roll over. “Tell me in the morning.”

“My mom registered me for swimming classes at the YMCA.”

I pop up. “You’re right. I want to join!”

On the first day of fourth grade, I made a list of dreams for the school year. Big dreams, like win an award, work on a big project, and make new types of art, just to name a few. I even wrote Nobel Prize, but I had to cross it out. Turns out they don’t have one just for kids. While swim lessons might not be on my official list, swimming does sound fun. I guess I’ll just have to add it to the list.

“Yes! I bet my mom could drive you, too. It’s only on Wednesdays, and the session starts in two weeks,” Jenny says.

I nod. “I’ll ask my mom when she gets home.”

I look at the clock on the TV stand. It’s almost 10:00 P.M., and Mom’s still not home yet. She is at her first-ever “Girls’ Night” with her coworkers at the radio station. Now that Nick is fifteen and can officially babysit me alone, Mom is beginning to hang out with work friends a bit more. I’m happy for her, but it’s awfully late, and I want to ask her about the swim lessons right now. Plus, I can’t really fall asleep until Mom tucks me in and says, “Te quiero, mi estrellita.”

To which I always reply, “I love you, too, Mom.”

I try to stay awake so I can see her when she gets home, but Jacques Cousteau’s voice is too soothing. I fall fast asleep and dream of swimming in the deep blue sea.

In the morning, I wake up to the smell of batter and the sound of Mom humming. Jenny and I head to the kitchen to investigate.

“Buenos días. How did the sleepover go, niñas?” Mom says, flipping a pancake over. “I noticed that you two decided not to sleep outside.”

We start giggling just thinking about our adventure last night. The only way I can sum it up is to say, “Camping was an experience.”

“Muy interesante.” She laughs. “You’ll have to tell me more about it later.”

Mom hands us plates, and we serve ourselves breakfast. Jenny devours her pancakes with lakes of maple syrup on top.

“I never get to eat this at home,” Jenny says in between bites. “Our pancakes are way different.”

She pours more maple syrup onto her plate.

Jenny’s mom makes pancakes, but they are Vietnamese-style. Their pancakes are made out of rice flour and filled with meat or veggies. I’ve had them at her house, and they’re yummy, but they are definitely not syrupy sweet like this.

When Jenny’s mom arrives to pick her up, Jenny whispers to me at the front door, “Don’t forget to ask your mom about swim lessons.”

“I’m on it,” I reply, giving her a high five.

I help Mom clean up in the kitchen. She leaves out one plate of pancakes, ready for when Nick finally wakes up. She even put chocolate chips in his batch because those are his favorites.

“How was Girls’ Night?” I ask. Then I lean in closer and make my voice stern. “And when exactly did you get home, young lady?”

“Perdonéme, jefa,” she teases, calling me her boss. “Ten forty-two in the evening. I gave you a kiss on the cheek, but you were wiped out.”

“Oh,” I reply. That’s not so late. Camping must have really made me tired!

She continues, “And Girls’ Night was so much fun! I haven’t been salsa dancing like that in a long time!” She busts out into a salsa move in the middle of the kitchen. It’s like her feet and hips are twisting with joy.

I frown. Mom and I salsa together all the time. Every Friday we have what she likes to call our “weekly appointment.” That’s our Friday night tradition where Nick, Mom, and I play games and have family fun time. And Mom and I always end up salsa dancing all around the living room.

Mom sees my face and knows I’m upset.

“Mi amor, I misspoke. I know that you and I salsa, but it’s different with a live band. El ritmo just takes over.”

The rhythm must be taking her over now, too, because she cha-chas again.

I nod. I sort of understand. I also know that when we’re salsa dancing, Mom slows down for me. I remember when Mom and Dad used to salsa together. Her feet would move at triple the speed. I could never understand how she did it. Suddenly this conversation gives me an idea.

“Mom,” I say in my sweetest voice, “speaking of physical activities…”

“Sí, Stellita.”

“Jenny signed up to take swimming lessons at the YMCA.”

“Oh, fun!” she says, wiping down the kitchen counter.

I lean over to get closer to her.

“I was thinking … Could I sign up for lessons, too? Jenny said her mom could probably drive me there.”

“I don’t see why not. Let me double-check with her mom, but it would be good for you. Nick has his karate, after all. It’s time you have a sport for yourself, too.”

I squeal. That was much easier than I thought it would be! I thought I’d have to tell her that swimming was necessary to my development as a future marine biologist. That it will make me strong just like it did for Jacques Cousteau. Before he became a famous oceanographer, Jacques Cousteau was a sickly kid, and he actually built up his strength by swimming. He grew so strong that he served in the navy and eventually explored all over the world, even Antarctica! I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to share that fact, but there are more important things to think about—like which swimsuit to wear for my first class!