Ana Maria Reyes Does Not Live in a Castle Read online

  “Tía Nona loves to travel,” I said to Connie. “She’s been to about twenty different countries, and she speaks four languages. Now she’s learning Chinese. She says it’s really hard.” I sat back and folded my arms across my chest. There was more to say, but Tía Nona’s secret was safe with me.

  “Are you going to be a doctor like Tía Nona?” Rosie asked me. Her mouth was full of rice.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said. Sick people and blood grossed me out, but I didn’t want to say no absolutely. I mean, if Tía Nona liked being a doctor, maybe I could like it too.

  “I think Ana María would make a great lawyer,” Papi said. “You know she can’t lose an argument.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “I never argue with anyone. When have you ever heard me argue with people?”

  Papi laughed, and Mami and my sisters joined him. I had to smile too. After all, maybe I did sometimes argue a little, like now.

  “It’s not an insult, Ana María,” Papi said. “I just mean that you’re good with words and with proving a point. In fact, you should come to work with me one day. I think you’ll really like it.”

  I knew Papi loved his job helping out clients who lived in awful places and could barely afford food for their kids. But if I ever became a lawyer, I wanted to be the making-a-lot-of-money kind, like Claudia’s parents. “Hmm, I don’t know, maybe,” I said. I put a forkful of codfish in my mouth and concentrated on my plate.

  “Maybe you could go to work with Tía Nona, and see if you like that?” Rosie said to me.

  Papi chuckled. “Well, that would be a very long commute to the Dominican Republic.” He put his fork down and rubbed his chin. “But you know what, Ana María? I have a friend from college who’s a physician. I’m sure he would let you tag along with him at work one day.”

  “Okay, maybe.” I was getting queasy just thinking about it.

  “What about you, Altagracia? Have you thought about your future?”

  Oh, good. Now Papi would remind Gracie — again — that she needed to apply herself in high school if she wanted to go anywhere in life. Gracie would whine that she tried her best and Bs weren’t so bad and what did he expect from her. Then Mami would jump in and tell Papi he was being too hard on Gracie. By the end of all that drama, Papi would have forgotten all about me following anybody around at work. I scooped some beans over my rice and sat back to enjoy the show.

  “I want to be a fashion designer,” Gracie said.

  “I don’t know any fashion designers, but I’ll ask around,” Papi said.

  “I’m going to be a dancer and a chef and an actress and a teacher.” Rosie ticked off each job on a finger.

  “Wow! You’ll be very busy,” Papi said. “But I’m sure you can do it.”

  “I want to be just like Mami when I grow up!” Connie always figured out how to get an “Ay, qué linda” — “Oh, how cute” — from Mami. And lucky Gracie got off easy this time.

  ***

  After dinner I washed the dishes and Gracie dried. We were quiet for a while. I thought about Lincoln Center, the scholarship to the Eleanor School, and whether I really had a shot at either one. I’d looked at the scholarship application and it required that I do a bunch of stuff: write two essays, complete a super long questionnaire about my current and career interests, and get three letters of recommendation. That would be a lot of work. And even though I loved playing the piano, just thinking about performing in front of an audience was making my stomach flutter. If I went to the Eleanor School, I could work on my stage fright by joining the debate team or even the theater club. We didn’t have either of those at my current school.

  “Why do you hate me?” Gracie asked out of the blue.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Why don’t you want me to make your dress? You know I can do a good job.”

  “Actually, I don’t know that,” I said. “And I don’t hate you. I just want to wear something normal. I don’t want to stand out and have everyone say ‘Look at the girl with the homemade dress.’ ”

  “I promise you it’ll be normal, and really nice. You know Mami will make sure it’s perfect.”

  She had a point. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m probably not going to Lincoln Center.”

  “Why? Were you nervous? Did you make mistakes? It’s that Doña Dulce. Nobody can play well with those beady eyes staring at you.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just think the association people didn’t like me.”

  “Why wouldn’t they like you?”

  She was kidding, right? Even my own grandmother said I was obnoxious. “I corrected one of them when he called me Ann Marie.”

  “Oh.” Gracie plucked a plate out of the drying rack with a clink.

  I poured soap onto the sponge and squished it against a greasy bowl. The warm water hissed as it snaked its way across the dirty dishes and down the drain. “Would you have done that if it were you?” I asked.

  Gracie thought about it. “I don’t know. I mean, ‘Ana María’ shouldn’t be that hard for people to say, so I can see why you expect everyone to get it right. I never bother when someone gets my name wrong because — let’s face it — ‘Altagracia’ is pretty weird. I don’t know what Mami and Papi were thinking when they picked it.”

  “They were thinking that Altagracia is the patron saint of the DR,” I said. “They were thinking that you’re special.” Unlike boring me with my simple name.

  “Yeah, I guess. But, anyway, I’m sure those music people just want good piano players, and you’re fabulous. They probably forgot about the name incident as soon as you walked out the door.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” Gracie said. “And if you don’t want me to make your dress, I’ll just tell Mami I don’t think I can handle it, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks.” We continued with the dishes in silence. I thought about how happy I feel when I play the piano well. Then I thought about Gracie and how much she loved to sew. I had to admit she was pretty good at it. “Gracie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want you to make my dress. With Mami’s help, of course.”

  Gracie squealed. Her eyes shone and her mouth hung open. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, well, I have some great ideas. It should be sparkly, but not too much, and long, of course, and probably satin, or maybe lace . . .” She kept describing this dress as she threw her arms around me. She was way too huggy.

  Chapter 5

  I was practicing piano the next day when the intercom buzzed. “I wonder who that is,” Mami said. “We aren’t expecting anyone.” Mami shouldn’t have been surprised. People always showed up without even calling. She put down the laundry she was folding and pressed the intercom button. “Who is it?” she shouted into the speaker.

  “It’s Chichi,” a voice crackled. Ugh. Mami’s so-called friend. She was probably bringing her two brats over for Mami to babysit, again. Mami buzzed her in.

  My sisters burst out of our room. “Are Jennie and Lisa with her?” Rosie asked.

  “I don’t know, mija,” Mami said. “We’ll see when she gets here.”

  “I want to show them my new Barbie,” Connie said.

  Poor Connie really thought a hand-me-down doll became new just because Mami made a new outfit for it. And why did she like to play with Jennie and Lisa anyway? They were just a couple of five-year-old bullies. I couldn’t stand how mean they were to Connie. She always forgot about their constant teasing, until they made her cry. Then I would have to scoop her up, find a quiet spot, and cuddle her until she calmed down. It happened every time.

  I slipped down the hall into my room and closed the door. I took out one of the math worksheets Mr. Briller gave me to study for the Eleanor scholarship exam. Why couldn’t everything in lif
e be like math? You pay attention, maybe study a little, and then you get it. After that, there isn’t a single problem you can’t solve. Every answer you come up with is either right or wrong. And there’s only one right answer. No discussion. No disagreement.

  “What a pleasant surprise!” I could hear Mami’s smiling voice through our thin walls.

  “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Chichi said.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Mami said.

  “Where are they? Where are they?” I could picture Connie running around looking for Jennie and Lisa, as if they could be hiding in the folds of Chichi’s skirt.

  “My girls are home with Lydia,” Chichi said. “This is just a quick visit. Gracie’s dress came in today, but the stores were so busy that we didn’t get a chance to call you. I’m on my way home, so I brought it over.”

  Two weeks earlier, we had gone to Chichi’s Children’s Clothing to buy a dress for Gracie’s graduation. Chichi didn’t have anything that fit Gracie, but her sister’s store, Lydia’s Ladies’ Fashions, was right next door. Gracie found something there she liked, but the color she wanted was out, so Lydia ordered it for her.

  “Ohhh,” I heard Gracie say. “It’s gorgeous! I’m going to try it on right now.” She burst into our room, holding up a teal dress with a pleated skirt that fell just below her knees. “Isn’t it perfect?”

  I shrugged.

  She closed the door and started taking off her clothes. “I sure hope this looks good,” she said. “Graduation is only two days away. Where will I find another dress at this late date?” She slipped into the dress. “Anamay, can you zip this up for me?”

  I blew out loudly through my mouth and tossed my worksheet aside. As I pulled the zipper up, I noticed that the dress really was pretty, and so soft. And teal was a perfect color for Gracie. She twirled around and her long hair swirled in rhythm with her skirt.

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed.

  Gracie seemed so happy. Why wouldn’t she be happy? Everyone was making a big deal out of this dumb graduation of hers, like nobody had ever finished eighth grade before. Papi was even taking the day off of work for it.

  Papi didn’t go to my elementary school graduation the year before. Not even after the principal called to tell him he might want to be there. “I didn’t go to Altagracia’s,” Papi had said, “so it wouldn’t be right.” Abuelita had stayed home to babysit Connie and Rosie so they wouldn’t disrupt the ceremony, and Gracie had a final exam, so she couldn’t come either. So Mami was the only person from my family clapping every time the principal called my name.

  Not to brag, but he called my name a lot. Gold Medal for Outstanding Achievement in Math: Ana María Reyes. The Silver Medal went to my friend, Ruben Rivera. Gold Medal for Outstanding Achievement in Science: Ana María Reyes. Again, Ruben got the silver. Everyone clapped at first. Some of the other kids even cheered. Gold Medal for Outstanding Achievement in Reading: Ana María Reyes. In Writing: Ana María Reyes. I thought I heard some groans. In Physical Education: some other kid. Clapping and cheering. Ruben got the gold for social studies, but I got the silver. Light, polite applause. People were mumbling about how sick they were of hearing our two names over and over. Finally, Mami and I walked out of there with my six gold and three silver medals.

  “Oh, Anamay, I’m so proud of you!” Mami gave me a big hug. “But maybe you should put those awards away when we get home,” she said. “Your sister might feel badly if she sees them.” Because Gracie of the skin with no pimples, the never-needed-braces teeth, and the 20/20 vision could never know that she was less than perfect. Now here she was, swinging around in her teal dress and thinking she was just so special because she was accomplishing a goal most people in prison have already met.

  “Well?” She looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you excited for me?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I said.

  Gracie ran out of the room to model for the crowd in the living room. “Oh, how beautiful!” Mami said.

  “It’s a perfect fit,” Chichi said.

  “Sooo pretty,” Rosie and Connie said at the same time.

  How annoying. But so what if my parents cared more about Gracie’s feelings than mine? So what if we had one more kid to clutter up this family? I would keep reading, studying, and practicing piano. I would get a full scholarship to the Eleanor School and get a fabulous education there. Yes, I could have a great life in spite of my family. I went back to multiplying and dividing decimal numbers. I definitely got every answer right.

  Chapter 6

  When Mami opened the door for Tía Nona on Thursday afternoon, my aunt was holding hands with a tall, skinny man. She let go of him and hurled herself onto Mami. They hugged and laughed and cried. Finally, they pulled away from each other but kept their hands locked together.

  “This is my sister, Mecho,” Tía Nona said to the man. “Mecho, this is Juan Miguel.”

  Juan Miguel was wearing white shoes, white pants, and a pale green shirt that matched Tía Nona’s dress. He and Mami hugged like they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time. “I’ve heard so much about you!” Mami said. “Welcome, welcome!” She pulled him into the living room. “These are my girls.” She introduced us one at a time, and we all hugged him too, but not like old friends.

  “So this is the famous Anamay?” Juan Miguel said when he got to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “You should hear Anamay play the piano,” Tía Nona said. “She was already marvelous five years ago when she had only been playing for a little while, so I can just imagine how much better she is now!”

  “Yes, each of my girls has her own special talent,” Mami said.

  I frowned at my mother. She always had to bring my sisters into everything.

  “Mecho’s expecting again,” Tía Nona said to Juan Miguel.

  “Congratulations! You have a beautiful family.”

  Mami smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Maybe this time you’ll have an hombrecito to take care of his sisters,” Juan Miguel said.

  “That’s our hope,” Mami said.

  Oh brother.

  “Is this Consuelito?” Tía Nona got down on one knee, held Connie’s hands, and looked straight into her face. “You’re right, Mecho, she does look like me!”

  Connie loved that. She pointed at Juan Miguel. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Tía Nona and Juan Miguel laughed. “Yes,” Tía Nona said.

  “Are you getting married?”

  More laughter, but there wasn’t an answer this time. Of course, I already knew the answer, but I wondered when they planned to tell the rest of the family. “You’re such a big girl!” Tía Nona said. “I imagined you as a little baby. How old are you now?”

  Connie held up three fingers.

  “My goodness, you’re almost all grown up!”

  “And I’m very mature for my age,” Connie said.

  There was a knock at the door. Abuelita burst in with a scream and threw herself at Tía Nona, who screamed back. The two of them held on to each other for a long time. When they finally let go, Abuelita’s cheeks were wet and her eye makeup was a little smudged. Then she noticed Juan Miguel. “And who is this handsome young man?” she said.

  “Mamá, this is Juan Miguel.”

  Abuelita reached up to wrap her arms around Juan Miguel’s neck. Another long-lost-old-friend hug.

  “Where’s Tavito?” Tía Nona asked.

  Mami looked at the clock on the wall. “He should be home from work soon.”

  “What about Lalo? Is he coming?”

  “Well, I invited him,” Mami said.

  “Oh, he’ll be here,” Abuelita said. “Unless he gets tied up at work. He has a new job, you know.”

  “Well, while we wait, I’ll give the girls a few little presents I got for them in
Spain.” Tía Nona reached into the brown tote bag that hung from her shoulder.

  Connie jumped up and down. “Presents, presents, presents!”

  Tía Nona laughed. “All right, calm down.” She handed each of us a little wooden box. We pried them open right away.

  “Oh, castanets,” Rosie said. “We learned about these in dance class!” She lifted her castanets out of the box and looped them onto her thumbs. The rest of us copied her and started clacking away.

  “And one more thing,” Tía Nona said. She took out a giant book and handed it to me. “Don Quixote. It’s a classic.”

  “Thanks, Tía Nona!” I hugged my aunt, and then opened the book. I flipped through a few pages and glanced at the long Spanish words. Reading this book was going to be a fun challenge.

  Rosie peeked inside Tía Nona’s bag. “Do I get a book too?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, no,” Tía Nona said. “I know how much Anamay likes to read, so I picked that up for her. But you like your castanets, right?”

  “Of course she does,” Mami said. “Thank you so much, Nona. But you really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble to get an extra gift for Anamay.”

  I couldn’t believe Mami said that. Why didn’t she want me to have anything special? But before Tía Nona could answer, Papi walked in the door. The introductions and hugs started all over again.

  When everyone was settled in the living room, Tía Nona said, “Juan Miguel and I have an important announcement.”

  “But Lalo isn’t here yet,” Abuelita said.

  Tía Nona looked at Mami and raised her eyebrows just a little.

  “Should we eat dinner first, while we wait for him?” Mami asked.

  “And eat without him? That would be rude,” Abuelita answered.

  “Mamá, we can’t sit here all night waiting for Lalo,” Mami said. “The girls will have to get ready for bed in a few hours.”

  Abuelita sat up and breathed out hard. “Well, okay. Let’s hear your news, Nona.”

  Tía Nona looked at me and winked. I smiled and nodded so she would know I hadn’t given anything away.