CHAPTER 5
Katie lit the candles for the last touches of her “Welcome to America” dinner. The table looked elegant and beautiful. Martha Stewart would have been proud. Katie clasped her hands with a smile, pleased with the outcome. “Bon appétit everyone,” she chirped as they all sat down. Brian put the palm tree shakers in the middle of the table and Katie gasped. “Oh, honey, what in the world—?”
He interrupted just in time. “They’re gifts, darling, from the Dominican Republic.” Katie forcibly changed her facial expression and Giselle bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. She felt a strange kinship with her father’s girlfriend as she twisted her lips into an artificial smile.
“Oh, how nice,” Katie said, looking at the cheap porcelain eyesores in the middle of her perfect, elegant table. “Aren’t palm trees just fun?” Giselle coughed into her napkin to cover a laugh that escaped like an unexpected sneeze.
Juanita slapped her cousin on the back a few times. “Are jou okay, Prima?”
“Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “I’m great.”
Brian shook his head. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes,” Katie and Giselle said, reaching for the platters in front of them. They both froze abruptly, however, as they noticed Juanita with her head bowed and hands folded.
“Dear Jesus,” she prayed aloud, “sank jou I here with my American family. Bless berry much dee food for eating and bless dee children who no have no-sing to eat in dis night. Amen.” Juanita crossed herself and the others did the same—they had to look at her to figure out how.
“Amen,” Katie said, putting her hand over her heart, genuinely touched. “Juanita, that was just lovely.” She looked at Brian with her Lifetime Television smile. “Oh, honey, isn’t she just lovely?”
“Yes, that was a very nice prayer, Juanita, thank you.”
She had never been thanked for blessing the food before but shrugged with a smile. “Jou welcome.”
Juanita was starving. She had hated the food on the airplane, and the meal on the table looked beautiful—like art. “Buen provecho,” she said, the Spanish version of bon appétit.
“I hope you like it,” Katie said. “I’m not quite the cook that Erin is, but I did my best.”
“Erin?” Juanita asked
“Erin is Giselle’s nanny,” Brian said. “She’s been with us for about seven years now. But at this point she’s more of a housekeeper and cook, since Giselle is already a teenager.”
“What means ‘nanny’?” Juanita asked, crinkling the skin between her untweezed eyebrows.
Brian opened his mouth to answer, but Giselle beat him to it.
“A nanny is a woman who raises you while your father is away on business trips.”
There was a brief moment of uneasy silence at the table, which was quickly filled by Katie’s high-pitched voice.
“Shall we eat?”
Juanita served herself a healthy portion of chicken and reached over Giselle’s plate to get the baby potatoes. Unfortunately, the food didn’t taste as delicious as it looked—it was bland and tasteless. Juanita was used to rich, savory food made with lots of different spices; this food needed something. She took the palm tree salt and pepper shakers and sprinkled both over her plate. It was a little better…. Not great, but better.
“Sank jou berry much,” she said loudly with her mouth full of chicken. Juanita continued to talk loudly at the table, unafraid to expose the chewed-up food in her mouth. Giselle served herself a tiny amount of food and nibbled on it slowly.
“Jou no hungry, Prima?” Juanita asked with her mouth full of food again.
“I’m on a diet.”
“A diet!” Juanita gasped. Giselle looked perfectly fine to Juanita. “Jou no fat!”
“Thanks,” Giselle said, rolling her eyes. What did Juanita know? Look at her, she thought. She’s bigger than me and she’s eating like a horse.
Giselle couldn’t get over the way Juanita was eating. She was slouched over her plate, shoveling food into her mouth, and her elbows were on the table. Nana would have an absolute fit if she saw this, Giselle thought. She looked at Katie and her father. Did they not notice she was eating like a cavewoman?
They didn’t really notice at all. Katie seemed charmed by her stories and childlike questions, and Brian loved her free-spirited nature, which reminded him so much of Jackie.
A surprising sense of comfort and happiness came over Brian in Juanita’s presence. It was nice to have that spark and pizzazz back in the house. But seeing the two cousins—these complete opposites—side by side, he realized how different his daughter was from her cousin and her mother. Giselle had her mother’s eyes, her shape, and her beautiful complexion, but she was reserved, just like her father. There was a silent sadness and anger in her that he knew all too well. Although he felt guilty for passing his bitterness on to his daughter, he also felt a sense of hope with Juanita sitting at the dining room table. Perhaps she could brighten up Giselle’s life, just like Jackie had for him so many years ago.
Juanita kept trying to engage her cousin in conversation. So far, Giselle’s answers had been short and dry. Juanita had always pictured Giselle to be just like her mother, but this was a completely different girl than she had imagined.
“When jou come to the Dominican Republic?” Juanita asked. “Ebbry-body want berry much jou come!”
“I don’t know,” Giselle responded, shrugging.
“Do jou remember when jou come to San Pedro, when jou have five years old?” she asked. “I remember jou cry all dee time because jou have afraid of Abuela’s cow. Remember?”
Giselle shrugged again. “I don’t remember that.”
Giselle couldn’t focus on anything but Juanita’s horrendous table manners. Nana had called when they’d walked in from the airport to invite them to a dinner party. How could she bring Juanita to Nana’s house? That would be absolutely humiliating. She already knew she wasn’t her grandmother’s favorite. The last thing Giselle needed was to introduce her cousin Juanita to Nana. It would only prove what she’d felt all along—as much as she tried, she didn’t fit in.
Juanita helped Katie clear the dishes and clean up after dessert, even though Katie insisted that she just relax. As the oldest, Juanita was used to helping in the kitchen. Back home she helped cooked meals, served the men, and washed the dishes, too. It was shocking to see her cousin Giselle go to her room after diner without offering to help. Juanita could never get away with that in her house. But what really shocked her was seeing her uncle Brian clean up. The men in her family never helped in the kitchen.
After the table and dishes were nice and clean, Juanita went up to her room to unpack. The quiet room that had seemed wonderful to her in the beginning now felt lonely and almost scary. She had never spent the night alone before. Outside it started to rain and thunder, and suddenly Juanita wished she were home. On nights like this, Juanita would cuddle up with her sisters and tell them not to be afraid. As she stood there now in this big room all alone, she wished she had someone to comfort her.
Katie and Brian knocked on her door, and it made Juanita jump. They opened the door slowly to find Juanita sitting next to her suitcase with her clothes still in it.
“Okay, honey, I’m gonna get going.” Katie said, walking over to her and kissing her on the forehead. “It was such a pleasure to meet you.”
Brian looked at her suitcase.
“You still haven’t unpacked. Is everything okay in your room?” he asked. “Is there something you need?” Juanita told him the room was beautiful but admitted it felt a little strange to sleep by herself.
“My home is berry small,” Juanita said. “I eh-sleep wees my two little see-ster. I have never sleep alone.”
“Don’t worry,” Brian said. “We’ll take care of that.”
CHAPTER 6
“Dad!” Giselle whispered as Juanita happily unpacked her things in Giselle’s room. “Can I talk to you?” Brian and Giselle went out into t
he hallway.
“Are you kidding me? Why can’t she sleep in her own room?”
“I told you, she’s not used to sleeping alone. Just let her sleep here for a few nights until she gets used to things.”
“Well, I’m not used to sharing my room with anyone, especially my bed!”
Brian didn’t like her attitude.
“Juanita is our guest,” he said calmly but with obvious frustration in his voice. “And more importantly, she is your cousin. Stop arguing about this, get in there, and make her feel welcome in this house.”
Giselle rolled her eyes and without a word went back into her room.
“Hola, Prima,” Juanita said, draping a towel over Giselle’s vanity mirror.
“What are you doing?”
“Abuela always cover dee mirror for dee rain and sohnder. Is bad luck if jou don’t.”
Juanita had already covered the mirror in Giselle’s bathroom and the full-length mirror in her walk-in closet.
You have got to be kidding me! Giselle yelled in her head.
“That’s great, thanks a lot, Juanita. Lord knows I don’t need any more bad luck.”
“De nada,” Juanita said, not sure how to say “you’re welcome” in English.
Juanita unpacked her things and hung them up next to Giselle’s designer clothes. Giselle cringed at each loud, synthetic, and thrift-shop-looking outfit Juanita put on a hanger.
“Hey, Juanita,” Giselle said. “How would you like to go shopping tomorrow?” There was just no way she could allow her to walk out of the house wearing those clothes.
“Oh jes,” Juanita answered. “I like berry much.”
Juanita’s whole family had chipped in to given her money to spend on her trip to the United States. She couldn’t wait to buy an American outfit and wanted to buy souvenirs for her family with the rest of the money.
“Great, let me go tell my dad.”
Juanita felt a tinge of pity as she watched her cousin leave the room. She couldn’t imagine being raised by someone who wasn’t even family. Juanita’s house was always bustling with family, and her grandparents and aunts and uncles all lived within walking distance from their home. What a sad, lonely life, she thought. She was happy to be here, even if Giselle wasn’t the girl she had been expecting. Now she felt a purpose for her trip. She would give Giselle all the love of family she had been missing all these years.
Giselle found her father at the computer, where she knew he’d be.
“Dad, we need to take this girl shopping tomorrow,” Giselle said. “I’m not even kidding; you have got to see her wardrobe. It’s absolutely hideous.”
Brian took off his glasses and smiled at his daughter.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Giselle was about to go off on a tangent about the whole mirror business, but Brian cut her off.
“And for being such a super, concerned cousin, you can pick up that bag of yours while you’re at it.”
“Really?” she screamed.
“Well, I was waiting for your birthday, but…yeah, go ahead.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Giselle went back to her room with a huge smile on her face. It was the first smile Juanita had seen so far.
“We’re all set for shopping,” Giselle said.
“Que bueno,” Juanita said, ready to start her cousin’s Spanish lessons. “Dat mean ‘berry good.’ Now jou say.” Juanita repeated the phrase extra slowly. Giselle was in too good a mood to protest.
“Kay, bway-no,” she said, twisting her mouth into funny shapes.
Juanita clapped and did a little happy hop.
“Ay si, que bueno. Now eh-say, ‘Hola mi nombre es Giselle.’ Dat mean, ‘Hello, my name is Giselle.’”
She tried, but it came out terribly. Juanita tried to fix it, but Giselle put out her hands in a “stop” gesture.
“Okay, how about ‘good night.’ How do you say ‘good night’?”
“Buenas noches.”
“Great…bway-naz no-chase,” Giselle said, walking toward her bed. “I’m exhausted.” Giselle looked at her bed strangely and then looked at Juanita, who was now pulling rosary beads out of her flowery bag.
“Did you put the pillows on the other side?”
Juanita explained that it was bad luck to sleep with your feet in the direction of the street. After all, she explained, that was how they buried the dead.
“Of course,” Giselle said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Silly me.”
Juanita handed Giselle a set of rosary beads and knelt by the bed.
“Come pray with me, Prima,”
“Uh, no, that’s okay, Juanita. Why don’t you just pray and I’ll listen?”
The look Juanita gave her was enough to make Giselle take the rosary beads and kneel beside her cousin. Juanita said all her prayers in Spanish and then nudged Giselle’s elbow to signal that it was her turn. Giselle tried to remember the prayers she’d learned when she was a little girl, but it had been so long.
“Uhhh…Our Father, who art in heaven, give us this, our daily bread, and lead us not into temptation, for thine, O Father…is the king and glory…. Umm…Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…and us…us sinners…. Amen.”
“Amen,” Juanita said, crossing herself and kissing her fingertips.
Giselle got under the covers. “Good night, Juanita.”
“Buenas noches, Prima.”
Giselle closed her eyes. How could she introduce this loud-talking, loud-dressing, superstitious hugging machine to her friends and family? They were going to laugh at Juanita. Giselle just knew they would, and maybe inside, they’d be laughing at her as well. Giselle did the best she could to fit in to her life. And although it wasn’t a perfect fit, it was good enough.
Maybe I can change her, Giselle thought. Maybe I can show her how to fit in and not embarrass herself.
Giselle went to sleep, confident that she would make everything better and hopeful that she could turn Juanita into someone she could actually introduce to people.
Giselle stared at the ceiling and shook her head. I can’t believe this, she thought as Juanita lay next to her snoring. Giselle nudged her for the twenty-somethingth time. Once again Juanita let out a single ear-popping snore, smacked her lips like a baby sucking on a bottle and then sprawled out in another position on the bed. “One, two, three, four, five,” Giselle counted in the temporary silence. She already knew what would happen after “five.” Bingo! Juanita was at it again, louder this time! “Unreal,” Giselle spat under her breath. “She’s got this thing down to a science!”
Juanita left her cousin almost no room on the bed. Giselle would push Juanita’s leg over, but then her arm would shoot over near Giselle’s face. If this is what it feels like to share your bed, I’m never getting married! she thought, trying to close her eyes tight and force herself to go to sleep.
The only person she had ever slept with was her mother, years ago. Whenever Giselle had a nightmare and started to cry, Jackie would snuggle in with her daughter and rub her head until she fell asleep again. Her mother didn’t snore.
Giselle finally went to sleep in the small corner of the bed. As she drifted into her strange dream, Juanita’s snoring turned into classical music, and the darkness of closed eyes became Nana’s dining room. There was nothing unusual about her dream at first. It was a typical dinner with the family. The good china was set out on the table—there was no such thing as bad china at Nana’s house—and the cloth napkins were rolled into the sterling silver napkin rings. Nana was at the head of the table watching her grandchildren like a hawk to make sure they didn’t slouch over their plates or slurp their sparkling apple cider. “Please pass the butter, Aunt Susan,” Giselle said with her shoulders back and elbows off the table. “Certainly,” said Aunt Susan, passing it to her right. The conversation was minimal as always. Questions like “How are you doing in school?” were answered with “Fine, thank you. I passed my last exam with an A.”
Yes, Giselle’s dream was extremely ordinary until the doorbell rang. Diiiing-dooooong, it rang, in a deep, creepy tone, as if trying to warn the family that something terrible was about to happen. “I’ll get it,” Giselle said, excusing herself from the table. She walked to the door, and when she opened it, there stood Juanita in a colorful, flowery polyester dress from Conway, a headdress of ripe tropical fruits on her head.
“Good evening, Prima!” Juanita shouted, giving Giselle her trademark bear hug. Giselle tried to scream but no sound came out. She tried to push Juanita back out the door but she had no strength. “Where’s the party, Prima?” Juanita asked, dancing into the house. “Ay, ay, ay!”
She headed toward the dining room and everything seemed to go in slow motion. In one last attempt, Giselle grabbed her from behind, but Juanita thought she just wanted another hug. “I love jou, too, Prima!” she said, turning around and throwing her arms around Giselle.
As Juanita walked into the dining room, the classical music stopped with a screech. Everyone let out a uniform gasp. “Hola, ebree-body, I’m Giselle’s coh-sing Juanita!” Nana stood up from her chair and threw down her napkin.
“Young lady!” she sniffed. “Is that polyester?” Juanita ran over to her and tackled Nana to the floor. “Hi, Grandmoh-der,” she said, hugging her on the polished tiles. Giselle tried to help Nana up, but Nana pushed her away and got up herself.
“Does this belong to you?” she asked, pointing at Juanita, who was now at the table, eating with her hands. Giselle tried to speak, but she couldn’t.
“I brought dessert!” Juanita shouted, pointing to the fruit on her head. Giselle’s perfect, blond cousins laughed and pointed at her and Juanita, and her aunts and uncles covered their mouths with looks of disgust on their faces. Brian just sat at the table with his perfect posture, eating his food as if nothing was happening. He was oblivious as always, too busy taking care of his own needs to do anything helpful.
Hallway Diaries Page 21