Page 19

“Hola, Tío Tín!” she says, smiling. “Cómo estás?”

“Bien, y tú?” I ask.

“Mom won’t let me bring a friend to Mama Rosita’s birthday party,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Can you talk to her? She acts like I’m still a baby!”

“I don’t know, Sof,” I say. “Your mom isn’t my biggest fan right now.”

“Because you’re writing that article about Bisabuelo?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“That’s dumb. I think you should write about it. Men get away with whatever they want. We need to hold them accountable. Fuck the patriarchy.”

“Whoa!” I say. “Love the sentiment but watch the language, niña. Where did you learn that expression?”

She grins. “Tía Caro taught it to me.”

Well, that tracks.

“Where are you?” she asks.

“It’s a holiday in the US this weekend,” I say. “I’m at a big street party. Like a barbecue. Mira.”

I switch the view on my phone and show her the kids running around the fire hydrant.

“Cool,” she says, as I switch back.

“Where are the rest of the Minions?” I ask.

Sofia giggles, and then I hear her calling to her sisters. Suddenly, the phone tilts and sways as three other faces squish next to Sofia: nine-year-old Veronica, and the six-year-old twins, Camila and Elena.

There are choruses of, “Tío Tín!” and Vero whines, “Stop shoving, Elena.”

“Hola, Minions!” I say.

“Tío Tín, will you bring us presents from New York when you come back to visit?” Camila asks.

“Claro que si!” I say. “Are you girls being nice to your mom and dad?”

Vero huffs. She looks the most like Lupe, with her long nose and deep-set eyes. “Mom is making us wear matching outfits to Mama Rosita’s birthday party.”

That’s what the Minions call Abuelita. My mom is Abuela to them, or Abu. My chest pinches at the thought of missing my abuelita’s birthday this year. Birthdays are huge in my family. As are holidays. Any excuse to celebrate with family, really. And cook. I really miss my mom’s cooking.

“Tío Tín is it true that New York is dangerous?” Elena asks shyly. “I heard Mamá talking about it to Abuela.”

“No,” I reassure her. “It’s totally safe here.”

To disprove my point, someone sets off firecrackers in the middle of the street. The girls start shrieking.

“It’s okay!” I say. Oh god, the last thing I need is them telling Lupe about this. “It’s just firecrackers. See?”

I show them the street.

“Bouncy house!” Camila shouts.

“Yeah, there’s a big party here,” I say. “Listen girls, I’ve got to get back to work. Besitos en tus frentes!”

“Besitos,” they say.