“What in the world does that mean?” Juanita checks the instructions. But gold is not listed among the colors.
“Tía Lola, you are off the charts,” Victoria declares.
For some reason, this strikes everyone’s funny bone. They roar with laughter.
“All that glitters is not gold, sometimes it’s Tía Lola!” Essie jokes, recalling the rhyme from the treasure hunt their first night in Vermont.
More loud laughter.
“What’s going on up there?” Mami calls up from the deck, which makes them laugh all the more.
By the time they show up for breakfast next morning, Mami is wearing the ring. They try not to stare, but each time they look at each other, they can’t help themselves. There are several giggle attacks during the waffle breakfast.
“How did you do it?” the girls ask Tía Lola once they’ve regrouped in their adjoining rooms. They are packing up their bathing suits and towels for today’s camp outing: a morning trip to Lake Champlain, a picnic, then back in time for afternoon practice and the arrival of their guests from the city.
“I told her it was a mood ring that would help her sort out her feelings.”
That’s all it took? Mami didn’t require any further explanation? But of course, Tía Lola has persuasive powers, even in the way she smiles!
Mami has agreed to wear the ring, so maybe if the stone turns violet or even blue (happy) or green (calm), she will realize she is really in love. Mami’s monster will be slain, the Espadas can move to Vermont, and they can all get on with the rest of the summer, and whatever wonderful adventures Tía Lola has in store for them.
They drive out to Lake Champlain, the van packed with eight people, their swords, two large picnic baskets, and after some discussion, one dog. Mami says she can’t bear the thought of leaving Valentino behind.
“So, what are you going to do when we leave Sunday?” That Essie is fearless! Miguel can’t believe it: this girl has an even bigger mouth than Juanita. But he has to admit, he is going to miss Valentino—and baseball practice with Víctor—when the Espadas depart on Sunday.
“I supposed I’ll die of heartbreak,” Mami plays along.
“Well, we don’t want to be responsible for murder,” Essie goes on. “So either you move to Queens, or we have to move to Vermont.” There it is, laid out, the choice Mami has to make. “And I don’t think you’d like Queens. There’s a lot of crime and drugs there.” Essie is not sure of this fact, but she does know those are the first things parents worry about in a neighborhood. Crime and drugs.
Víctor looks in the rearview mirror and winks at his plucky daughter.
“What is this, a plot?” Mami asks, narrowing her eyes at Víctor suspiciously, but she is laughing.
“I love Vermont,” Cari pipes up. “It’s not scary like Queens.”
“I love Vermont. I love Vermont.” Her sisters take up the chant.
From way in back, Valentino agrees with a series of his own I-love-Vermont barks.
After a morning of swimming in Lake Champlain, they are starved. They find a picnic table and sit down, four on each side, Mami and Víctor together.
Victoria scoots in beside Mami so she can check on the you-know-what. But Mami’s hands are so busy unpacking the picnic, opening containers, unwrapping sandwiches, Victoria is going to get a cramp in her neck trying to catch them at rest. Finally, Mami lays her left hand down on her napkin. She’s wearing the mood ring on her wedding-ring finger! If that isn’t significant, Victoria doesn’t know what is.
“What color is it? What color is it???” Essie keeps mouthing from across the table.
Victoria is glancing all around for something the same color as the mood stone. Finally, she spots the green dish towel that was covering one of the picnic baskets. Very pointedly, she pats her mouth with it, until everyone is giggling.
Mami follows the gigglers’ gaze. Victoria is suddenly aware that Mami’s eyes are on her. Quickly, to disguise her signal, she wipes her whole face with the green dish towel. The gigglers explode into laughter.
By now, Mami is totally suspicious. “What is going on here?” she asks the whole table, but really she is looking at Víctor.
“Don’t look at me.” Víctor shrugs, laughing. He is as clueless as she is. But he’s also very pleased to see that the kids are having such a good time together, something he hopes Linda is noticing.
“We’re just really, really, really happy,” Juanita says with emphasis. “Right, Miguel?”
As usual, his sister is going to blow everyone’s cover with her heavy-handedness. But Mami especially is hanging on his next word, so Miguel has to agree that he’s really, really, really happy, too. “I’m off the charts,” he says smartly.
The girls roar with laughter, drowning out Valentino’s barking.
They drive back through town to drop off Tía Lola and Juanita and the younger Swords at Colonel Charlebois’. They’ll be riding their bikes home after another tea-and-cookies-and-stories visit.
What a shock when they stop in front of his house! A sign on the front lawn reads FOR RENT. Mami and Tía Lola clamber out of the van as soon as it stops moving. Has something happened to the colonel? Why else would his house be for rent? They press the buzzer over and over.
“What in tarnation?!” The colonel has swung open his door to find a mob of children, adults, and one barking dog, alarmed by the rental sign. “Of course I’m not going anywhere,” he informs them. “I just got to thinking yesterday, after such fine company, that I don’t want to be in this big old house by myself anymore. So I’m looking for a family to move in with me.”
You could knock Essie over with a feather. “We’ll take it,” she wants to call out like someone at an auction, nervous to be outbid. She glances over at Papa with eyes that would rival Valentino’s when he is in high begging mode at the dinner table.
Papa winks at her. “How many bedrooms do you have?” he asks Colonel Charlebois.
“How many do you need?” the old man comes right back at him.
Essie knows. She counted them yesterday. Besides the colonel’s bedroom on the first floor, there are three more on the second floor and a bunch of little ones up in the attic. They could move into this house and each have a bedroom, even Valentino.
Mami listens quietly as Colonel Charlebois goes over all the details of the house. When it’s time to leave, Víctor and Miguel walk back to the van, followed by Mami, who slips her arm affectionately around Victoria’s waist. And in that moment, Juanita sees very clearly, the stone on the mood ring glows a really, really, really happy blue.
By the time the bikers arrive home, the car with New York plates is sitting in the driveway. Abuelito and Abuelita and Carmen are drinking lemonade on the back deck with Mami. Papi has already gone out to the back field to watch the tail end of the team’s practice.
Juanita races into her grandparents’ arms, exchanging besitos and abrazos, big kissy hugs. “We’ve been having camp all week,” she begins. She’s about to launch into a full report, but suddenly she remembers her manners. The two younger Swords have to be introduced to her grandparents. Carmen, of course, already knows the girls. She works with their father and is a family friend. In fact, the Swords call her Tía Carmen, even though she isn’t technically their aunt.
The three girls all start talking at once about the exciting adventures of Tía Lola’s summer camp. The visitors keep shaking their heads in disbelief. Could so much fun be packed into a single week?
When they’re done with their summer camp report, Carmen notes, “Sounds like you girls are really loving Vermont.” Cari and Essie nod vigorously.
“We really, really, really love Vermont,” Cari elaborates. “We might even move here—if the ring turns violet, that means she loves Papa.” Cari points to Mami.
Mami’s face is a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. “So that’s what’s been going on! No wonder you kids keep staring at my ring like it’s a crystal ball!” Now it’s he
r turn to stare. Glancing down at her hand, Mami smiles at what she finds there.
After dinner, the girls retreat to Juanita’s room to work on their posters for tomorrow’s game. They can’t be real cheerleaders, but they can hold up signs cheering on Charlie’s Boys.
Miguel is on his way upstairs to get all his gear ready for early tomorrow morning. At eight sharp, Charlie’s Boys will assemble at the town’s baseball field, where the game will be held. Juanita’s door opens. Essie peeks out and frantically gestures for Miguel to come in while the coast is clear.
“Cari blew it!” Essie tells him. She has already told Victoria. All their efforts have come to nothing.
“I didn’t mean to.” Cari is close to tears. Sometimes she just forgets something is a secret, and she’ll tell because she loves to share.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” Victoria says, in part to make her little sister feel better. “Besides, I just finished helping your mami clear the dishes, and she’s still wearing the ring. So even if she knows we’re watching, she hasn’t taken it off.”
“Did you see what color it was?” Juanita asks. She has already reported that the stone turned blue over at Colonel Charlebois’ house. From green (calm) to blue (happy) is progress.
“It was still blue,” Victoria has to admit. “But like a really weird blue, the way the sky looks when there’s going to be a rainbow.” Rainbows are on her mind. For her poster, Victoria has drawn a huge one arcing over a field with a baseball flying way up above the scene. The poster reads HEY, CHARLIE’S BOYS, HIT THEM OVER THE RAINBOW!
“That is so cool,” Essie says, momentarily distracted by one sister’s masterpiece from the tragedy brought on by another sister’s blabbing. “Mine is so blah.” There it is again, the glass half full. Poor, pessimistic Essie. Growing up is not going to change her.
“I love your poster,” Juanita protests. “It is not blah at all!” In fact, Essie’s poster is the opposite of blah; it’s downright bloody. KILL THE PANTHERS! it reads in big, bloody letters dripping into a sea of red. Essie will probably not be allowed to hold it up at the game. The coaches always give a little speech about good sportsmanship. Odd that Juanita should love Essie’s gory poster, as hers is what Miguel would call lovey-dovey. A big, bold WE is printed at the top; CHARLIE’S BOYS, at the bottom. In the middle, Juanita has drawn a big red heart. All around the borders, Cari has been coloring little red hearts, as Juanita invited her to do a poster together.
There’s a knock at the door that makes them all jump. Essie tiptoes over and cautiously cracks it open. “Oh, Tía Lola!” she cries in relief, letting her in.
Tía Lola has the look of someone with a secret to tell. “I come to report.” Tía Lola holds out her right hand. Sitting in the center of her palm is Juanita’s mood ring. “She took it off.”
“But why?” Essie’s voice is almost a wail.
“She said she already knows how she feels. She doesn’t need a ring to tell her.”
Miguel could say “I told you so.” But right now, like the Swords, like his sister, all he wants to know is, what is Mami feeling?
“So????” Essie is already bracing herself for the worst.
Tía Lola shakes her head. “She wouldn’t say how she feels.”
The girls all groan. Even Miguel feels frustrated. Although he wasn’t sold on the ring plan, he has gotten caught up in the girls’ enthusiasm.
Just then there’s another surprise knock on the door. The room goes absolutely still. “I know you’re in there,” Mami calls. “May I?” she asks, pushing open the door. In her hand is her sword, like she’s come upstairs to cut off their heads for making so much noise.
“We were just, um, just finishing our posters, um,” Victoria stammers, blinking furiously. She may as well take one of those markers and write LIAR across her forehead.
But Mami is too bent on her mission to notice. “Could I borrow the red marker, if you’re finished?” she says, holding out her sword.
Victoria is relieved that’s all Linda has come for. “Sure,” she says, handing it over.
Essie, of course, is too curious to leave it at that. “What do you want it for?”
“To paint something on my sword.”
“Like what?” Oh, Essie, give it up.
“Just some gore,” Mami says happily. And then, seeing that they are all baffled, she adds, “You know, blood and gore like when you kill a monster.” Mami waves her sword in the air. Then, just as mysteriously as she appeared, she disappears out the door.
Everyone is in bed early tonight. The newly arrived guests are exhausted after their long ride. Tomorrow will be a long and exciting day, especially for Miguel.
Perhaps that’s why Mami comes upstairs to his room tonight. Miguel doesn’t need tucking in, he’s too old for that. But she has something special to tell him. “Whatever happens, mi’jo, my son, I want you to know I am so proud of you. You were such a good sport about the injury, so generous with Essie. And according to Víctor, you’ve come back playing better than ever. You’re already a winner.”
Miguel wishes he were good at expressing his feelings like Mami. But his mother seems to know how he feels just by looking in his eyes: I love you. I love Papi. I want you both to be happy.
Something about the way she leans in and kisses his forehead tells him she is happy. Something about the way she goes quietly out of the room, down the stairs, and wishes all the girls good night, blowing kisses to them that rise up through the heating vents and caress Miguel’s sleepy face says that she is in love. Her mistake monster has been laid to rest. On her magic sword, she has painted not just blood and gore, but a big red heart, followed by the name Víctor.
Nine
saturday
Miguel’s Big Game
Miguel wakes up this morning not knowing if he has truly woken up or if he is just getting out of bed after being awake all night. Seems like he didn’t sleep a wink, playing baseball in his head instead. Not a good thing. Especially when he has to play a real game against the Panton Panthers today.
What he’s hoping is that the excitement will carry him past the tiredness and he won’t bottom out until after the bottom of the sixth. He dresses and heads down for breakfast, the house silent and steeped in sleep all around him.
Down in the kitchen, two people are already awake. Tía Lola and Víctor are both eager to know if Miguel’s ready for the big game today.
Before they even ask, they can tell from the look on his face. Miguel has had a tough night, striking out, loading bases, dropping balls. It’s like someone was making a video of all the baseball errors possible and hired Miguel to demonstrate.
“Come sit down, Captain.” Víctor nods to the space beside him in the little alcove dining area in the kitchen. He seems to understand and doesn’t push Miguel with a whole bunch of questions.
The sudden ring makes them all jump. Tía Lola races to grab the phone before a third ring wakes up the house. “Buenos días, Owensito, ¿qué hay?” In spite of himself, Miguel has to smile at the thought of Tía Lola wishing the tall teenager, “little Owen,” a good morning and asking him what’s up.
“Ay,” Tía Lola sighs, and from the look on her face and the wail in her “ay,” Miguel knows this can’t be good news. Sure enough, when he gets on the phone, Owen explains that Dean has been sick all night, some bug he caught, maybe from the colonel. Dean’s definitely in no shape to play ball.
“I already talked to Rudy,” Owen goes on. “He asked me to get in touch with you while he calls around to see who he can line up.” Miguel knows what Coach Rudy is worried about. Patrick, their only sub for today’s game, is their worst player, small for his age, intensely eager, but the muscle coordination just isn’t there yet. Meanwhile, the team’s losing its best player: Dean is a hard hitter and a great catcher with a strong arm—the kind of player who raises the bar for everyone on the team. It doesn’t hurt that Dean is constantly practicing with his older brother. Owen, after all, is goo
d enough to be helping Rudy coach. Miguel finds himself wishing that someone else will drop out and the game will have to be canceled. But he squelches the thought. What kind of an attitude is that for going into a game? He’s defeated before he even starts.
Miguel is so distracted by the bad news, it’s a quarter to eight by the time he glances up at the clock. The pregame warm-up starts in fifteen minutes! And where’s Papi? Last night he said he wanted to drive Miguel to the town’s baseball field, where the game is being held.
Miguel hurries into the den and shakes his father awake. “What? What?” Papi groans. Then he rolls over, muttering, “Five more minutes, mi’jo.”
“Papi, I’ve got to go now!” Miguel knows five minutes, give or take, is no big deal. But with everything unraveling, he desperately wants to feel in control, even if it’s over a minor detail. And his father has never been what Mami calls a morning person. Papi’s five minutes could easily turn into fifteen or twenty before they’re out the door. Another thought Miguel finds himself squelching: why can’t his papi be more like Víctor?
Víctor comes up behind Miguel, keys in his hand. “Hey, Captain. I’ll drop you off. Your father can catch up with you later.”
Miguel hesitates. This will not go over well once Papi wakes up. But Miguel can’t stop to worry about what could be. Everything’s falling apart right now! “Okay,” he finally says, collecting his gear.
Víctor’s already down the front steps when who should come bounding down the stairs but Essie, fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “You’re already going?” she asks.
Miguel nods, hoping to make a quick getaway. But he’s forgetting what a piece of gum Essie can be. Of course she trots out after him and, when she sees her father in the van, asks if she can ride along.
Now it’s Víctor hesitating. But the truth is that arguing with Essie can take time, and Miguel has to get going. “Fine with me,” Miguel says, shrugging, since Víctor is looking at him to decide.