A knot grew in my throat when I thought of Estrellita staying out all night, but then Mami said, “It’s late. I say we go to bed.”
“And the dog?” Francisco asked in his tiny voice that belonged in a cartoon.
Mami shrugged. “Bring her in, of course.”
“Yay,” my brothers and I cheered, jumping in place. Estrellita joined the celebration by howling.
The Bodens’ front porch light came on, and we all giggled silently, even Mami and Papi.
“Let’s go inside, Estrellita,” I said.
“We’ll make her a bed in our room!” Mateo said, running inside the house.
I looked at my mom, and she put a stop to my brothers right away. “Now, Mati, give Mimilia the chance to have a sleepover with a friend.”
Mateo and Francisco had eaten with the Bodens earlier, and they grumbled when Mami sent them to bed but still obeyed. My parents and I ate a quick dinner in the quiet kitchen. Once I’d helped clean up, Estrellita clambered up the stairs behind me to the attic room that still held the heat of the day.
“Let’s make a bed for her right here on the floor,” Mami said, folding some blankets.
But Estrellita jumped on my bed, circled once, twice, three times, until she finally seemed satisfied enough to curl up in a crescent and go right to sleep.
She was snoring before my mom could protest.
Mami and I laughed quietly. Mami caressed my hair and said, “It’s nice to see you smiling again … I know this hasn’t been fun for you …”
That this whole experience hadn’t been fun was an understatement. It had been horrible!
But my parents had tried to do what was best for our family.
“It’s okay, Mami,” I said. “The hard things are worth it in the end, right?”
“Right,” she said, hugging me close to her. “Go to sleep now. Tomorrow we’ll make posters to find her family.”
Mami went downstairs, humming softly.
In spite of what she said, in my heart, I believed my wish had finally been granted. My cat had found a way back to my side.
Estrellita had arrived to stay with me forever, and I was never going to let her go.
The scent of something delicious baking woke me up.
“Papi is making croissants!” Mateo yelled from downstairs a second after I opened my eyes.
Next to me was the warmth of a dog.
She hadn’t been a dream, then!
For the first time since the move, I wasn’t dreading the day ahead.
Estrellita jumped from the bed and barked at me to hurry up before all the croissants were taken.
If I closed my eyes, it was almost like we were back home. Our real home, with Lela singing to her plants while Papi baked a weekend tradition.
I dashed downstairs after my new pet. But even before I reached the kitchen, the scent turned bitter.
On the counter was a cookie sheet with the smallest, ugliest croissants I’d seen in my life. They looked like charred shrimp.
Mateo and Francisco eyed them with repulsion.
Papi stared at the croissants like he couldn’t believe his eyes.
I couldn’t help it. I started laughing.
Soon, we were all laughing.
“What is that?” I asked when I could speak.
Papi shrugged. “I got up at the crack of dawn to surprise Mami before she headed to the office. But I think I made a mistake measuring the powdered yeast. It didn’t work …”
“Imperial system,” I said, shaking my head.
“That could be it,” Papi said, wagging his index finger like I’d discovered the fault in the plan. “It’s hard to get used to the different measures, the altitude, the different water … The list of variables is endless!”
Mateo flopped to the floor, staring at the ceiling like he’d never recover from the disappointment. “Any time now, Mami will be done getting ready. It would’ve been nice to send her off with a happy surprise.”
“She’s going to the office on a Saturday?” I asked with dismay.
“You know her …” Papi said, shaking his head. “She wanted to get ahead of her week, planning a few things for her students. There’s a girl from Puerto Rico who can sure use the extra help.”
An unwelcome thought intruded: Why did she spend so much time on her students? What about us here at home?
“We can make her toast,” Francisco said. Papi looked disappointed.
And then I remembered the food Montserrat had brought for us on the day we’d arrived. I ran to the fridge and grabbed a tube that read Giant Croissants.
“What about these?” The list of ingredients was longer than the things I missed from home, and there were some words that seemed more like letter soup than ingredients. But it said cinnamon croissants right there on the label.
Papi shrugged. “Why not?”
He pulled on a tab until the top of the tube came off in a satisfying pop.
“Oooh,” my brothers and I said with a sigh, looking at how he unrolled the cardboard and placed a sheet of dough on the floured countertop.
Estrellita jumped as if she were trying to see what we were so interested in, and Mateo picked her up so she could see.
“What’s that?” I asked, tracing dots premade on the dough.
“This is magic,” Papi said with awe in his voice.
He went on to separate the dough on the dotted line into triangles. Then he rolled one and placed it on the cookie sheet. After Mateo put Estrellita down and washed his hands, he, Francisco, and I helped Papi with the rest.
The croissants looked tiny and sad. Like the pale twins of the charred shrimp.
“Have faith,” Papi said.
Estrellita barked and lowered her face as if she were giving a tiny prayer, and we all laughed.
Papi put the cookie sheet in the oven. My brothers cleaned the counter, and I went behind them, sweeping the floor. Estrellita licked the crumbs I’d missed.
“Great teamwork!” Papi exclaimed.
The smell of cinnamon and sugar permeated the kitchen, overpowering that of the burned croissants that had never risen.
By the time Mami came out of the bathroom, guided by a smiling Estrellita, the croissants were beautifully arranged on a plate next to the coffee my dad had prepared for her.
Mami’s smile was contagious. “What’s this?”
“That is magic, Mamá,” Francisco said. “Try it.”
She bit into a croissant. Papi and I exchanged a nervous look.
Mami closed her eyes and sighed. “This is the best thing I’ve had in a long time!”
My brothers cheered. Estrellita barked in approval.
Mami finished her coffee, and after a kiss, she said, “I’ll be back a little after one. Have fun!”
And she walked out, leaving behind the scent of her jasmine perfume and the promise of an afternoon together.
* * *
Even with Mami gone, Saturdays were chore days. Papi wouldn’t budge. So many things had changed in our life, but apparently chores were one of those sacred traditions that persisted through life-changing events.
The boys helped Papi clean the bathrooms. My job was putting laundry away. In Argentina, Violeta and I had hung laundry on a clothesline. Here in the house we had a dryer. Although now the washing was a million times easier, the putting away was still the worst. Estrellita’s “help” as she snuffled through the clothes made it take even longer, but I was so happy to have her with me. I took a picture of my dog sitting inside a basket, covered with towels.
Once we were finally done, the boys ran out to play with the Bodens, and I sat at the computer to share the picture with Violeta. I was immediately surprised.
On her social media, Violeta had tagged me in a picture of our class on their pre-graduation trip to Córdoba with a sign that said We miss you, María Emilia!
My eyes burned with tears but not only the sad kind. I was happy for them. We’d planned on the trip forever, and although I co
uldn’t be there with them, they’d thought of me like I thought about them all the time.
I replied with heart emojis and sent her the picture of Estrellita, hashtagged LaundryDog. I wished I could travel home as easily as a message online and see her reaction in person.
I headed toward the shed to deal with my mixed feelings.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay in that shed, Mimilia?” Papi asked. “It must be scorching in there.”
“I like it,” I said, shrugging. “Come on, girl.”
Estrellita followed me. The air was suffocating for September.
I wondered when my body would understand this change of season.
The whole morning went in the blink of an eye as I thought about my friends and did the rest of my homework, singing my favorite songs from movies and the radio for Estrellita. It felt like the bands had been broken around my heart, and finally the music poured out of me.
When I had warmed up enough, I started singing my own song, “Those You Love Are Never Far.” The melody had been born in my heart.
The whole time I tried variations in pitch and tempo, and Estrellita watched me with attention, her head bobbing at the rhythm of my voice.
I wasn’t good at writing letters like Celestina had been, but maybe one day a kid missing home and feeling out of place would listen to my song and feel like someone else in another place and time understood them. Maybe they’d feel less alone. The thought kept me going for hours.
It wasn’t until my stomach growled that I noticed what time it was.
“Ready for some lunch?” Mami asked behind me, startling me.
“Mami!” I said, and ran to hug her.
She looked tired, her eyes a little puffy, but she still smiled. “I love to hear you singing again.”
“I’ve been writing,” I said.
Her eyes lit up. “Really? Will you sing it to me?”
I cringed. “I will when it’s finished. I promise.”
There was something about sharing my work before it was done that blocked me from actually finishing it.
“I get it,” Mami said. “Back when I wrote, if I shared the idea with someone, it was like my brain was satisfied that it already had an audience. Then I lost steam.”
“Exactly,” I said.
My stomach growled, and Mami laughed. “But I don’t want you here all day. Why don’t you see if Ashley Jane wants to … hang out?”
“Maybe later,” I said, with zero intention of even looking at Ashley Jane.
“How about a sandwich, then?”
“Sure! Estrellita’s hungry too.”
Mami looked at the dog, whose tongue was lolling out. “I’m sure we can find something that’s okay for her to eat.”
“After lunch, can you help me make the signs to see if she has a home?” The words cost me a lot to say aloud.
“Sure,” she said.
When we went in, the house was eerily quiet.
“Where are the boys and Papi?”
Mami was taking out cheese and salami from the fridge. “The Bodens invited them to a fútbol game.”
“To watch?”
“Actually, the fall league is about to start, and they needed players,” she said.
“I’m glad the boys are finding friends so quickly.”
She must have heard the longing in my voice because she said, “And I’m glad you found a furry friend to keep you company until your human friends come along …”
“Maybe they never will.”
Now that I’d put into words my greatest fear, my heart started pounding.
Mami shook her head. “I assure you, Emilia, you’ll find your people before you know it.”
I hugged her. “I already have my people. You, Papi, and the boys. They’re annoying, but they’re cute, so I think we can keep them.”
Mami laughed. “And if we make the posters, and no one claims her, we can keep this puppy too.”
When we finished lunch and handwriting posters, Mami drove Estrellita and me around the neighborhood to pin the signs on bulletin boards and posts. We left one at the vet, who said she’d seen the puppy around the neighborhood, but that she didn’t know who the owners were.
Then we went to the ice-cream shop where the older teenagers liked to hang out. The man at the gas station next to it said he’d also seen Estrellita, that she kept him company during his night shift, but he had never met her owners. Maybe she was a stray after all.
When we went back home, the boys and Papi hadn’t arrived yet. Mami wanted to take a nap, and I, happy that no one had claimed my dog, headed to my room with Estrellita. I wanted to read one of Celestina’s letters.
I browsed until I found one I could certainly relate to.
Dear Nonna Rosa,
The heat in this place is unbearable. The humidity is suffocating. Mama says it’s the humidity that allows for such vibrant green. But between you and me, I could do with a duller shade of green in exchange for some relief. The mosquitoes have feasted on me for weeks. After so many stings, my skin doesn’t swell up anymore. So that’s the silver lining I promised I’d include in every letter. Happy now?
I’m sorry I’m a little snappy. Sometimes it’s easier to let the negative emotions run their course until they dissolve like dew in the mornings. Did I ever tell you how beautiful the roses look in the morning when I go feed the chickens? The pinks, reds, and whites seem to glow with millions of tiny drops on each delicate petal. The other day I saw my first hummingbird. Have I ever told you about them?
They’re the smallest birds you could imagine. A cross between a butterfly, a bumblebee, and a sparrow, with a thin, long beak to drink the nectar out of the flowers. Iridescent green feathers cover its body, but they look like tiny scales. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life, Nonna. I wish I knew how to draw to send you a likeness because words fail me. They’re magical, and apparently, they only live in America, which makes this move worth it when everything seems so hard.
Seeing one hovering over the flowers made me happy on a day that my heart was heavy with longing for your voice and love, and the company of at least one friend. Nafiza, the girl from the ship, continued her journey to Entre Ríos with her family. She promised to write, but you know the price of a stamp. Finding friends at my age isn’t easy! But at least I have Mamma, Babbo, and the boys to keep me company. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
So there. See? I let all the negative feelings run their course, and the memory of the hummingbird broke free like sunshine through storm clouds to help me see that I have the most important thing of all: my family.
Oh! And books, Nonna! The teacher comes around once a month with a collection of books we can borrow. I might not be able to attend school since we live so far, but at least we have books! She let me borrow a tome of Grimms’ Fairy Tales.
I’ll tell you more about my favorite ones in the next letter. Mamma is going to the post office soon, and besides, I ran out of paper.
I miss you and I love you.
Celestina
My poor great-grandma. So she did spend time longing for a friend. At least I had a dog. I gently pried one of Mateo’s stuffed animals from Estrellita’s happy mouth. I needed to get this puppy a chew toy.
She jumped beside me on the bed while I hummed the song that wanted to break free from my heart. But I was afraid to let it go because I knew once it did, it would bring along feelings I wasn’t ready to deal with yet.
“Guess how many goals I scored?” Francisco exclaimed, barging into my room.
Estrellita was immediately electric with excitement.
Mateo ran in after Francisco, and they both spoke at the same time.
I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but their little eyes were shining like sparks.
“One at a time!” I bellowed.
They both quit speaking at once.
I pointed at Mateo. “Tell me first.”
He took a deep breath and said, “We mad
e it on the team!”
“I scored three goals,” Francisco said.
“And I saved four!” Mateo added.
In bits and pieces I gathered that their first official fútbol game had been an absolute success.
“They said I’m just like Messi,” Francisco said.
“And that I’m the best goalie they’ve ever had,” Mateo added, his chest puffed up with pride.
I caught Papi’s eyes, and I quickly looked away so I wouldn’t laugh. I didn’t want to hurt my brothers’ feelings.
They were proud of themselves in a way I’d never seen before.
“Now we’re gonna practice with the Bodens,” Francisco said. Then he turned toward Mateo and said in perfect English, “Let’s go, bro!”
That had me laughing for a long time.
They left in a flurry of movement and color, like iridescent hummingbirds. It was time to walk Estrellita anyway, so I left the room to take her out.
When I walked into the kitchen, the phone rang, and my heart jumped to my throat.
What if it was Estrellita’s owners wanting to take her back?
Quickly, I scurried out of the kitchen before anyone answered the call.
On Wednesday night, when once again my dad and my brothers headed to a soccer practice, my dog and I went back to the shed so I could sing in peace.
I was belting out a version of my song, when Estrellita’s ears perked up and she jumped to her feet.
“What is it?” I asked.
Someone knocked on the shed’s door.
My senses kicked into hyperalertness. If it had been my mom coming to get me for dinner, she’d have just walked in.
I waited in silence, and Estrellita whined.
“Cookie? Are you there?” a boy asked from the other side of the door.
Estrellita started scratching the door frantically.
“Hello?” I said, slowly opening the door and peeking outside.
But Estrellita snuck between my legs and darted out.
She jumped on the boy. She was tiny, but somehow the boy was on the ground.
“Estrellita, stop!” I said, afraid she was attacking him, but then I realized she was kissing him.
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