How Tía Lola Saved the Summer (10 page)

Throughout this parting scene, Miguel looks on grimly. He dislikes being cast in the role of wounded athlete needing care. He doesn’t need care. He needs his ankle back in shape so he can play baseball this Saturday.

What’s making Miguel feel even more desperate is that Papi called yesterday to announce that he and Carmen, Abuelito, and Abuelita are all coming this weekend to watch his first big game. Miguel was still counting on his miracle, so he didn’t mention his injury. Amazingly, neither did Juanita, who has to be the world’s biggest blabbermouth. But then, his little sister was acting super-weird,
going around hugging people and telling them how much she loved them.

As for Mami, she was too busy to talk long with Papi. She did say she’d make them all a reservation at the B&B down the road. Papi must have asked if there was any way they could all stay together at the house like last time. Of course that would have been fine, but Mami explained how right now all the bedrooms were occupied, as Víctor was up visiting with his girls. This really surprised Papi, as Mami later recounted, which Miguel doesn’t understand, since Carmen and Víctor work in the same law practice. Plus, they’re friends. Surely, he must have mentioned coming to Vermont. But maybe not. The more Miguel knows of grown-ups, the weirder they seem. Only his little sister is weirder, but at least she doesn’t get to boss him around.

But none of these plans will matter if his ankle hasn’t healed. Papi will probably cancel his trip altogether. Maybe on account of hanging out so much with Víctor, Miguel wants to feel that Papi will always be his father, no matter what happens between Víctor and Mami.

“What am I going to do, Tía Lola?” he asks his aunt once the Fort Ticonderoga contingent has left.

“Remember how with patience and calm, even a donkey can climb a palm tree!” A favorite saying of hers. “It’s just going to take a little more time for your ankle to heal, just as it’s going to take a little more time for you to grow taller. These things will come, I promise.”

But Miguel’s patience is wearing thin. Good thing Tía
Lola invites Dean and his brother, Owen, to come over for lunch before practice, because that takes Miguel’s mind off the thought that some donkeys who try to climb up palm trees probably don’t succeed.

It
is
a lovely day for Victoria.

The only part she feels bad about is that she didn’t just tell her father the truth. Papa, she should have said, I want some time to myself; I want to get to know this nice boy; I want to do fun things on my own without always having to include my younger sisters. It’s such a relief to talk to Tía Lola. She listens and doesn’t make Victoria feel like a selfish brat. It’s a little like having her mother back. But even saying that much might make Papa sad.

“Next time you will tell him more of the truth,” Tía Lola reassures Victoria as they prepare lunch together. “You’re taking little baby steps, and like Miguel with his ankle, you have to be patient.” Tía Lola is like a life coach! “
Hay que darle tiempo al tiempo.
You know that expression?”

Victoria winces as if she were Miguel stepping on his bad foot. “My mother used to say that,” she explains in a pained voice. “ ‘You have to give time to time.’ ” And just like that, Victoria is sobbing in Tía Lola’s arms. It’s a good thing that Owen and Dean and Miguel are out in the living room, watching some game on ESPN. “I’m sorry,” Victoria keeps saying, but Tía Lola tells her there is nothing
at all to be sorry about. She understands how hard it is for Victoria to be growing up without her mother.

Before joining the boys, Victoria washes her face. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“Yes, you do. And it makes your brown eyes shinier and your face prettier.” Tía Lola has a way of telling the truth that doesn’t hurt to hear it.

“
Ay
, Tía Lola!” Victoria throws her arms around her wonderful new friend. “I hope we do move to Vermont!”

Tía Lola hugs the sweet girl back. “I hope so, too!” That would be the best miracle of all: if Linda and Víctor were to fall in love.

“What’s with the swords?” Owen wants to know as they head to the back field. Miguel and Victoria have insisted on bringing along these Halloween swords. Owen is serving as Miguel’s crutch on the right, while Victoria is on the left. Tía Lola follows, carrying a small stool on which Miguel will rest his bad foot.

“The swords are
una tradición latina
,” Tía Lola says playfully. A Latin tradition?
“Ay, sí, Owensito
,
”
she teases, calling him “little Owen,” when he towers above her. “You know how the valentine angel carries love arrows?” She must mean Cupid. “
Bueno
, before a game or a practice, we Latinos carry harmless swords to remind us to play fair and make friends.”

“Awesome,” he says, but suddenly the only three Latinos he has ever known are laughing. “What?” he asks, baffled.

“I am pulling your toes,” Tía Lola explains. She often gets her English expressions mixed up.

“You mean pulling his leg, Tía Lola,” Victoria offers when she manages to stop laughing.

“It was only a little joke I play on Owensito,” Tía Lola explains, “so I only pulled his toes this time, but next time, he better watch out that I don’t cut off his head.”

She brandishes her sword like she means business. Owen ducks, pretending to defend himself. In doing so, he lets go of Miguel’s right side, so that accidentally, Miguel steps on his sore foot. And what a surprise: the ankle is tender, but it doesn’t really hurt him anymore!

By the time the British regiment has shot its first cannon, and the light infantry has marched across the green at Fort Ticonderoga, the team has been practicing for an hour and is ready for a break. Tía Lola and Victoria come down from the house with a tray of homemade cookies and two pitchers of lemonade.

“Where is the
coronel
?” Tía Lola asks, looking around. Colonel Charlebois usually shows up at the team’s practices.

“Down with a cold,” Rudy sighs. It was a job convincing the old man to take a day off. “How’s our other wounded soldier?” Rudy asks, nodding at Miguel’s foot.

“Super!” Miguel demonstrates, taking a few tentative steps. He is so ready to play ball.

But Rudy isn’t sure that ankle is ready. “I hate to be the
heavy here, Captain. But how about we give it one more day?”

Miguel shoots Owen a desperate look. But as the assistant, Owen has to back up his coach. Owen relates how he himself messed up his pitching arm last year by playing too soon after an injury. You’d think he almost died or something; Victoria looks like she’s about to faint.

“Owen’s right, Miguel,” Victoria pleads. “Please, just one more day, please.” She looks almost as worried about Miguel as she did about Owen.

The truth is that it’s hard to resist a pretty girl acting like you’ll break her heart if you ignore her request. It helps that she sits down beside him on the bench, needing a lot of help with the rules and moves of baseball.

One thing leads to another, and before long, Miguel is telling Victoria about his apprehensions for the weekend.

“What exactly are you worried about?” She is such a good listener, letting him finish without interrupting, thinking about what he says before responding.

“I was worried that I wouldn’t get to play at all. Now I guess I’m afraid we’ll lose. I also worry Papi might feel bad about your father and my mother.” He doesn’t want to sound like he is criticizing Víctor, whom he actually likes a lot, which is part of the problem. Feeling like he’s not being loyal to Papi.

“But didn’t you say your father and Carmen are engaged to be married?”

“I know.” Miguel shrugs. He picks up his sword lying beside him and whips it a few times in the air. “You know
what I’d do if this sword
were
magic? I’d use it to get rid of worries. Wham, wham, wham!”

Victoria is smiling at him. “So, what’s holding you back,
Michael
?” she teases. Just then she hears an echo deep inside her, asking, So, what’s holding
you
back, Vicky?

That night at dinner, everyone is full of stories of their lovely day. The Fort Ticonderoga contingent almost go to battle themselves over which was the most exciting part of the reenactment: the redcoats firing their cannons, or the infantrymen marching in formation, or the colonials ambushing them just beyond the refreshments stand, or the loyalists waving their white flags in surrender.

The stay-at-home group listen tolerantly. They don’t seem in the least bit envious, which is odd. After all, they didn’t get to watch the birth of the United States of America right before their very eyes and on the day after the Fourth of July. Miguel didn’t even get to play baseball, spending a second day just watching from the sidelines. Meanwhile, all Victoria got to do was help Tía Lola bake cookies and make lunch and lemonade. But no matter how much more gore Essie piles on, or how much Cari stresses how very scary it was, or how much history Papa emphasizes she missed out on, Victoria seems unimpressed. In fact, she looks like she might be stifling a yawn.

“Well, next time, Victoria, you’ll have to come,” Papa states, as if it’s a sure thing.

“We’ll see,” Victoria answers back, just like a grown-up.