Even before she finished speaking, my heart had already started hammering.
No, no, no, no …
It was one thing to share this song with my family and my friends. But it was another to sing it in front of everyone. It would be like placing my naked heart out in the open.
Donovan and Tirzah exchanged a look. Even Beto took his headphones off and came over to the sofa and sat next to me. He patted my shoulder, and I realized that I was already crying.
“I guess that’s a no, then,” he said.
I never wanted to let people down. These were my friends. I trusted them, but they’d expected too much. They hadn’t even left me with enough time to decide.
“We’re not doing it if it affects you so much,” Tirzah said with a glare at Donovan. “I knew it was too late to ask. Forget we even mentioned it. Forget it.”
“But why would you say no, María Emilia?” Donovan asked.
I looked up at my band. A few months ago, we lived in different countries, different continents, each living their separate lives. And now?
They were my family. And in a family, we had to open up. More than anything, I wanted them to understand what I’d been going through all this time.
“It’s not finished,” I said. What I meant was It’s not perfect.
I realized that expecting to do everything perfectly, without giving myself room to fail, had stolen a lot of joy from my life. But I didn’t know how to break that cycle.
I had finished the song, but I was scared they wouldn’t like it.
Sometimes when we move between worlds and languages, faiths, families and timelines, what comes out first is the essence of who we are. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It is what it is. But it was hard not to see all my flaws.
Beto said, “I have an idea: Think about it. We still have one more practice to finalize whatever we decide to play. Tomorrow, you can let us know what you decide.”
“It’s your song, María Emilia,” Tirzah said. She kissed me and hugged me tightly. “But remember it speaks to us because you put into music what none of us could express before.” She stood. “Now. Let’s practice everything else just in case.”
We played in harmony together until Estrellita snuffled her way into our little group. I pulled her in for a snuggle as Mateo peeked inside the garage. Her fur felt oddly stiff under my hand. “Ready to go, Mimilia?” His face was so sleepy.
I gave the puppy one more squeeze and said, “Yes, Mati. Ready.”
Now that it was almost winter, the sun went down around five in the afternoon. The days seemed so short and dark. At seven, it looked like it could be midnight.
I grabbed my brother’s hand, but before we left, Donovan said, “Emilia! Before you leave, I wanted to ask you something … not about the song. It’s something else.”
“Go ahead,” I said, putting my notebook with the lyrics inside my backpack.
Donovan looked at Mateo and grinned. “So, the thing is, I’m sure you noticed my mom started painting the mural in the living room. Well, Cookie’s going bonkers with the sensory overload.”
Cookie whined, like she did every time someone discussed her mischief making, and then lay at my feet.
I petted her and noticed again that her hair was all stiff. “What is it?”
That’s when Karina peeked in and said, “This morning when I was prepping the walls, she thought the paint was like makeup or something. I painted the first layer, and the house phone rang. I usually let it go to voice mail, but then I wondered if it was Julián calling. It was telemarketers after all, but when I came back, Cookie was acting super guilty.”
“Like when she pulled that whole platter off the counter last week. Remember, Mimilia?” Mateo said, shaking his finger at Cookie. She’d been coming over to visit whenever Donovan did.
“The whole right side of her body was covered in cream paint. It’s not washable, and I can’t use thinner on her.” Karina sighed. “That’s going to take forever to come off.”
“You can’t have her around when you’re painting,” I said.
“Duh,” said Mateo.
“Could you keep her at your house for a few days?” Donovan asked, clutching his hands in front of him like he was praying.
I shook my head and his smile vanished, but then I laughed. “Of course! She can come over anytime.”
Cookie seemed to understand the whole conversation. She sat in front of me and then plopped on her back for Mateo to rub her tummy.
We all laughed again.
When Mami drove over to pick us up, she was smiling from ear to ear at the sight of Cookie. “We’ve missed you …” Then she wrinkled her nose. “Stinky girl! What’s that smell?”
“Paint,” I said, sitting in the front seat while my brother and Cookie sprawled in the back seat.
Mami always turned the music off when we were in the car so we could talk, but today I had too many things in my heart and stayed quiet.
Now I didn’t miss our home in Mendoza like I was a person walking around without a part of her heart. My brothers were safe and happy. Papi hadn’t perfected his pizza, but the new version had pepperoni, which was delicious. I wasn’t on the cheer squad, but I was in Los Galácticos, and although Ashley Jane continued to pretend like I didn’t exist, at least she’d stopped calling me names. And the cherry on top was that Cookie was with me for at least a week.
The real problem was, there was a song trapped inside me. A song that showed my whole heart, and I was afraid to share it.
Although the sky was a dark blue, there was always a glow of light right at the end of the road. Papi had said it was the lights from Saint George, but I thought it was a reminder that there was light at the end of the desert if we only remembered to look ahead instead of behind us, at the past.
That night, my brothers fought over who’d get to sleep with Cookie. When the argument reached the tears and accusations point, Papi intervened.
“Now,” he said, “remember she’s a guest. Would we be fighting like this if Lela were here?”
But neither one of my brothers wanted to give up.
“I’ll take her with me,” I said, heading to my attic room.
Now Mateo and Francisco groaned and made me the object of their complaints.
“It’s not fair!” Mateo said. “It was my idea for her to come over.”
“It was not!” I said.
“Was too!” he replied. “I said to Donovan’s mom that we could take Cookie.”
“Well,” Francisco interrupted, “I feel like she should sleep in my bed because it’s my birthday …”
Finally, Mami declared, “She won’t sleep in anyone’s bed. Last time she slept upstairs, she barked all night at every single car that drove by and woke up Lilly Ann Boden. Cookie ate the leavening rolls dough, and she annihilated Mateo’s snow boots.”
“But she didn’t know any better!” I said.
The truth was, tonight I wanted to be with a friend and tell her all about my fears without feeling judged. Maybe she had some extra stardust power to help me get over my fears and insecurities.
Papi didn’t look like he’d budge, but I insisted. “I’ll leave my door closed all night, Papi!”
Mami shook her head. “If she gets out, who knows what trouble she’ll find in this house …”
“The Jensens will come back and hunt us!” Francisco exclaimed.
“Haunt us,” Mami corrected him, obviously trying to keep a straight face.
“She’ll stay in the laundry room,” Papi said. “It’s nice and warm in there, and it’s a small room she can protect without having to bark all night.”
No one but my parents seemed satisfied with the arrangement. My little brothers weren’t happy to leave Cookie behind, but they finally gave in.
I went back to doing my homework in the kitchen next to Mami, who was correcting essays for her students. Finals were coming up, and she wanted to return the papers the next day so her students had time to prepare
.
After bedtime stories, Papi came back to check on us.
Mami turned a page in the stack of papers in front of her, and she yawned loudly.
“Are you okay, Mami?” I asked.
She rubbed her tired eyes. “I need to call it a night. I’m not built for staying up until all hours anymore.”
Papi scratched his face and looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “It’s not even eleven, and we’re already too tired to stay up. I guess we’re assimilating.”
Assimilating. Blending in. Were we really losing part of our culture?
“Now, if only I could get up earlier than six, then I’d believe you,” Mami said.
“That’s still only seven hours of sleep, Mami,” I said, rubbing my own eyes too. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
Mami gave me a smile and nodded. “You’re true, Emilia.”
“You mean I’m right?”
She laughed. “We’re all too tired to talk in English or Spanish. Let’s go to bed.”
Cookie’s chin had rested on my feet while I worked on history. I was determined to catch up on this subject that had always been my best but was now my most challenging one. It felt like completely starting over.
Mami kissed me on the head, and then she and Papi headed to their room.
“Don’t stay up too late, and please leave Cookie in the laundry room.”
I nodded.
In reality, I had intended to obey, like I would’ve in another life. But when I was done writing the summary of the chapters on Utah history to share with Tirzah, I saw Cookie’s face, and I couldn’t send her into the laundry room on her own. Like me, she looked like she didn’t want to be alone.
“Shh, quiet,” I said, and she quietly padded up the stairs behind me.
She walked around the room, sniffing the corners, inspecting every inch to see what was new.
She then stood on her little hind legs and looked out the window. I followed her gaze and to my surprise saw snowflakes as big as my hand fluttering through the glow of the streetlights. The snow had already started accumulating down in the yard. It looked so eerie and beautiful.
Cookie whined.
“We can’t make any wishes tonight,” I said, hoping the clouds would break for a second so I could get a glimpse of a star. So I could wish to remember who I was supposed to be.
Cookie licked my hand.
“I know! I can make a wish on you! After all, regardless of the name that silly boy gave you, you’re a little star and you’ll be my own little star forever and ever.”
The words sparked a thought, and I grabbed my notebook and scribbled quickly.
The last and final verse of my song came out in a rush, and when I was done writing, I was proud of myself. It wasn’t perfect, but it showed what I really felt:
I wished upon a stray
Who came to me disguised as a star.
She reminded me that bonds can stretch,
Love can change even the most hardened heart,
Like the ocean or the wind
You can’t contain it.
Let it fly and reach the rainbow.
Don’t forget
That those you love are never far.
Satisfied with my work, I made sure my door was closed. Then I set an alarm for a little earlier than Mami’s so I could have Cookie down in the laundry room before the rest of the family woke up and realized I had disobeyed.
It was just the one night.
Tomorrow I’d feel better, and I wouldn’t need the comfort of my borrowed dog, or at least that’s what I told myself.
Maybe knowing that Cookie loved me unconditionally made me feel better. I went to bed and had a dreamless night with her pressed to my side.
* * *
When I woke up, it was to absolute silence, and an empty spot beside me. I frantically looked at the clock and saw it was seven thirty.
I jumped from the bed.
I had slept through my alarm! Which meant Mami had slept in too because otherwise she’d have come to wake me up.
“Cookie!” I called.
But no puppy came over to reassure me. With horror, I realized the door of my room was open.
I darted downstairs. But she wasn’t in the laundry room, or with the boys.
In the kitchen, I found the stack of Mami’s essays scattered all over the table. My heart sputtered and then started racing.
What had Cookie done?
But I didn’t have time to worry about her when Mami had a big day ahead of her.
The microwave clock blinked 00:00. The power must have gone out in the night. I tried one of the light switches, and fluorescent light illuminated the dog-less kitchen.
I gathered the papers to pretend nothing had happened with them, and then I went into my parents’ room to wake Mami up.
“Mami,” I whispered. “We slept in. It’s seven forty-five.”
Mami sat up in the bed like a windup toy. “Seven forty-five?”
She didn’t waste a second before she ran to the bathroom.
Papi sat up too and checked the clock on the nightstand. “Oh no,” he said. “The power must have gone out and the alarms …”
Mami came out of the bathroom, already dressed, with no makeup on but her hair arranged into a careful bun on the nape of her neck. “How do I look?”
“Tired, but that’s what coffee’s for,” Papi said. “Although if the power’s gone, I guess there’s no fresh coffee today.”
Mami kissed him and then hugged me tightly for a second or two. “Thanks for saving my life, mi amor. I owe you big-time.”
She dashed out before I could tell her about the essays.
Soon, the sound of tires on new snow told me Mami was on her way out. I dashed to the window to watch her carefully drive on the freshly salted streets.
“At least the roads are okay,” Papi said, going through notifications on his phone. “But it looks like the boys will have a snow day today.”
My heart hammered thinking of Cookie. I needed to go to the shed and see if that’s where she’d headed. If she wasn’t there, where could she be?
Donovan had trusted me with her, his beloved brother’s dog. Julián had been nothing but super nice to me. Mami had called me her savior, but all I had done was lie.
“Oh, wait,” Papi said, checking his phone. “There’s a two-hour weather delay for you, actually. So we have two extra hours this morning.” The universe was giving me a chance to fix the mess I had made.
“I’m going to get ready for the day,” Papi said. “And then we can make pancakes or waffles. What do you think?”
“I’m not that hungry,” I said.
He placed a hand on my forehead. “Are you okay? You never turn down pancakes!”
I wanted to tell him about Cookie, but what if I made him worry and then I found her and it was all for nothing?
Before I replied with another lie, he went to change. While my brothers still slept, I went back to my room. I put on my tennis shoes and a big jacket and headed out.
My heart jumped when I saw Cookie-sized paws prints in the snow, leading to the shed.
But when I opened the door, all I saw was the poor deer watching me with glassy eyes.
“Cookie,” I called, but there was only silence and the smell of musty, old places. “Cookie,” I tried again.
My heart beating frantically, I went back out, heading toward the circle of naked willow trees, following the paw prints.
I went around the block, calling her over and over. Until I came face-to-face with Ashley Jane.
She had a giant shovel in one hand, and she’d been heading to my driveway.
She saw the dog treat in my hand and probably the anguished expression on my face. “Is she lost?” she asked.
I nodded.
“When?” she asked.
“I don’t know. She must have opened the door. She’ll chase absolutely anything …”
There was a heavy silence, and then she
asked, “Do you want me to help you look for her?”
This was the girl who’d accused me of stealing her favorite shirt. The one who’d made up stories that I couldn’t speak English. The one who’d called me a Hispanic attention seeker all because I had dared to sing from my heart.
Why would she be nice to me now?
What if she went to Donovan and told him I’d lost his dog? His brother, Julián, would be home for Christmas. What would he say when he found out I’d been so careless?
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m sure she’s waiting for me at home.”
I looked over my shoulder, and Mateo and Francisco were standing by the window. Something in their expression told me they knew Cookie was lost.
Without another word to my neighbor, I headed back inside. I felt Ashley Jane watching me all the way to my door.
When I walked in, Mateo asked, “Where is she? You went on a walk, but where is she?”
I shook my head and swallowed my tears.
My sweet wishing star was lost.
Papi and the boys helped me look for Cookie around the neighborhood without knowing it was my fault she was lost. Mateo and Francisco plodded in their uncomfortable but toasty boots. At first I didn’t mind the cold seeping through my tennis shoes, until my feet became blocks of ice and I couldn’t walk anymore.
Papi’s cheeks were red with the cold. As the snow started falling again, his phone chimed. When he checked it, he said, “School is totally canceled for the day. Why don’t you call Donovan and see if Cookie made her way back to their house?”
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