How Tía Lola Saved the Summer (2 page)

“Let me explain,” Víctor is saying to Mami. “Valentino is not staying.”

“What do you mean?” Mami sounds as disappointed as if she were being denied her favorite thing in the world: to have Valentino stay in her house for the rest of her life.

“We’re taking him to a local kennel—”

“Oh, Papa, do we have to?” the middle one pleads.

“Essie,” Víctor says in a tight voice. “Remember our agreement.”

The little one, who has been hiding behind her father, is tugging at his pant leg. “What is it, Cari?” But Cari won’t
speak up, so Víctor bends down to hear her secret. Even before he has straightened himself back up, he is shaking his head. “Absolutely not. A deal’s a deal, girls. We’re giving our hosts enough trouble with four of us—”

“But it’s no trouble,” Mami interrupts him. “There’s plenty of room in this house for all of you
and
Valentino.” She bends down and pulls playfully at Valentino’s ears. “Yes, there is. Yes, oh yes,” she coos. Talk about mushy. And Valentino is eating it up, wagging his tail, nodding his shaggy head. But all the while, Miguel notices, the dog avoids eye contact with his master, as even a pet must know a deal is a deal.

Víctor is like a dog himself, with a bone. “Our intention was never to bring Valentino along. Sorry, pal, but it’s the truth,” Víctor apologizes. “We were literally walking out the door when our sitter called. A family emergency. She was flying out that very morning.”

“Her mother died in Florida,” the middle one offers. “That’s where we were going to go, too.” A look from her father stops her. She bows her head but keeps muttering under her breath, “Well, we were. Instead we had to come to the middle of nowhere.” With her foot, she starts stroking Valentino in a pouty, almost-poking way. The dog doesn’t look in the least bit offended. A stroke is a stroke is a stroke when you’re a pet, Miguel supposes.

Her middle sister’s misbehavior must make little Cari braver, because she speaks up. “Our mother died, too, but in New York. That was a long time ago,” she adds because the silence seems to be growing deeper, more awkward. “Right, Papa?”

Víctor runs his hands through his hair. It is thick and black, with silvery strands of gray. He seems at a loss for what to say. Miguel starts to feel sorry for the poor guy. After all, except for Miguel himself, Víctor is the only other male in the room—well, Valentino might qualify. Obviously, Víctor has his hands full with three strong girls. No wonder he wants to move to Vermont. Probably if they stay in the city, that middle one will end up joining a gang like the one that roughed up Miguel during his visit to Brooklyn to see his father last winter break. “We were already late taking off,” Víctor continues with his explanation, “so we had a discussion and all agreed”—he looks at each of his daughters pointedly, reminding them—“that rather than try to hunt down a kennel in the city, we’d find one up here in Vermont.”

“That way, Valentino can get some fresh air,” Victoria adds.

“And exercise,” Cari chimes in.

Both are the kind of argument no parent would refute. Miguel can’t help being impressed. But then, with a lawyer for a father, these girls have probably learned how to be good arguers.

“We can’t accept Valentino staying here,” Víctor says with finality, as if he were delivering his closing argument in court.

“No, we can’t,” Victoria echoes her father, who is flashing an SOS look her way. She is the oldest, and like Miguel, she probably has to set a good example. But Miguel can tell that Victoria would accept Mami’s offer in a heartbeat.

“I just don’t see why you’d put him in a kennel when
we have plenty of room here,” Mami points out. “We’ve got a big yard and a huge pasture out back.”

Miguel can’t believe Mami is offering his team’s practice field to a dog who’d race around pooping everywhere. He’s about to protest, but as if reading his mind, Tía Lola steps forward. “Valentino will stay with me as my personal guest.”

Valentino barks his acceptance. Tía Lola claps her hands. As far as they are both concerned, the matter is settled. But Víctor keeps shaking his head like one of those little dashboard dogs with a spring in its neck.

“Vamos a conocernos.”
Tía Lola changes the subject. She wants to meet everyone.

“I’m Victoria,” the oldest says. She is taller than Miguel by several inches. Her long black hair is pinned back with two butterfly barrettes. If Miguel had to write a description of her for English, he’d describe her as pretty. She’s not like a model or anything, but her big eyes are shiny and pretty, and her skin is a very pretty soft brown, and her smile lights up her face in a pretty way. Of course, if Miguel wrote all this down, Mrs. Prouty—whom he never has to have as a teacher again, hooray!—would circle the word “pretty” and write in the margins, “Repetitive. Can you think of another adjective, Miguel?”

“I’m Caridad, but everyone calls me Cari,” the little one says. She has grown braver and perkier. But then, Tía Lola puts everyone at ease.

“Last but not least … tah-rum.” The middle one sweeps out one hand. She would have to be the drama queen in the family, the one Miguel will have to attend to,
since they’re the same age, eleven. “I am the one and only Esperanza!” She takes a goofy bow.

“Victoria, Esperanza, and Caridad,
¡un placer conocerlas!
” Tía Lola beams at the three girls, who must understand Spanish, because they all say back, “A pleasure to meet you, too.”

After hugging each girl, Tía Lola announces: “Welcome to Tía Lola’s summer camp!”

Summer camp? Miguel doesn’t know what on earth his aunt is talking about! And by the looks on their faces, Mami and Juanita don’t either. But they do seem delighted to hear that Tía Lola is taking charge.

The middle one’s interest is piqued. “You didn’t say it was going to be a camp,” she confronts her father. “What kind of a camp?” she adds more suspiciously.

“A magical one,” Tía Lola says, winking at the one-and-only Esperanza.

“I’ve never been to a magical camp,” little Cari admits, hugging her father’s legs tightly, something she does when she is feeling excited or shy.

“What do you say we go upstairs and settle you in?” Tía Lola suggests. “You might want to take a little rest. We have a long night ahead.”

“We do?” Victoria’s face brightens. This camp is starting to sound like a teenager’s idea of fun.

“It won’t be scary, will it?” Little Cari has used up her quota of courage for today. After all, she has come as far as she has ever been from home to stay with some new friends Papa made in Vermont.

“Not scary at all,” Tía Lola assures her. “A nighttime treasure hunt.”

“A treasure hunt at night? But how can people even read the clues or see where the treasure’s buried?” The middle one scoffs. But she does sound a tiny bit intrigued.

“I have ways to make you see in the dark!” Tía Lola says mysteriously. “Remember, this is a magical camp!” Then, turning to Valentino, she says, “Señor Valentino, let’s show the guests to their rooms.” And as if Valentino had been living here all his life, he trots up the stairs, leading the way.

Miguel is scratching his head, wondering if Tía Lola can secretly communicate with animals as well as people. Cari and Juanita troop behind Tía Lola and Víctor, who is still shaking his head in disapproval. Victoria and Mami follow.

“Can she work magic?” It’s the middle one with the musical name, Esperanza, hanging back, already glued to Miguel.

“We all can,” Miguel says before he can stop himself. Some male survival instinct kicking in.

But instead of looking impressed, Esperanza narrows her eyes at him. “So, if you can work magic, will you make my wish come true?”

Miguel shrugs. “Depends.” Oh boy, what is he getting himself into?

“Make this week more fun than Disney World.”

“Disney World?”

“That’s where we were supposed to go for vacation. But then Daddy comes home from some work trip all la-di-da about Vermont.”

Miguel has to admit that Disney World does sound like a lot more fun than a week in the middle of nowhere—even if a camp has suddenly been thrown into the bargain. But he feels he has to defend the state that’s now his home. “Vermont is great,” he says, his voice a little less confident than he’d like it to sound.

“So, prove it!” Esperanza says. Then, with a toss of her short, bouncy black hair, she heads up the stairs behind the others.

It’s going to take a lot more magic than even Tía Lola can manage to get through this week, Miguel can see that.

Day one of the Swords’ visit has begun with a stab to his confident heart.

Two
saturday night

A Nighttime Treasure Hunt

Miguel is upstairs in his temporary quarters, arranging his stuff the way he likes it. Tía Lola has been using this attic room for her sewing projects, but she has moved her machine and materials to one corner so that Miguel can spread out. Since his new room happens to be directly above Juanita’s room, Miguel can actually look through the heating vents and see the tops of the girls’ heads.

Every single sound comes up through that vent, including Valentino’s sighs of reminder that it is a beautiful, if waning, summer day in Vermont. They could all be outside getting some fresh air and exercise.

“So have you been?” Esperanza asks Juanita. She is
trying to build the case that everyone in the world has gone to Disney World.

Juanita lets out a sigh. “Mami keeps saying that maybe the next time we go to the Dominican Republic, where she’s from, we can swing by on the way.”

“Wow, two cool trips in one!”

“Well, Mami hasn’t actually said yes,” Juanita explains. She might be feeling bad about getting two special trips when Essie didn’t even get one.

“They
never
say yes. It’s like parents take a class on how to torture their kids. ‘Let’s wait and see.’ ‘I’ll think about it.’ ‘If you get all A’s in every subject for the next zillion years, I promise I’ll take you to Disney World.’ ” Esperanza is hamming it up, but then, she has found a receptive audience. Juanita is laughing her head off.

“You’re making Papa sound terrible,” Cari says in a hurt voice.

“I know,” Victoria agrees. “And it’s not like Papa promised we’d go to Disney World.”

“He was considering it, okay?”

“But considering is different from promising,” Victoria points out. “Papa would never break a promise, you know that.”

“Then he broke his consideration!” Esperanza seems to like getting the last word in an argument.

As far as Miguel can make out, what happened was that Esperanza kept pestering their father to go to Disney World this summer. After the hundredth time, their father said they would have to wait and see. This was enough of a yes
for Esperanza, so that when their father came home from a work trip with the idea of spending a week in Vermont, she was bummed. Especially when he refused to barter that week in Vermont for a week in Disney World later in the summer. A trip to Disney World would involve the cost not just of hotels and meals and rides, but four plane tickets. This was a big expense for a family that might soon be relocating to Vermont, where the father would probably have to take a job that involved a pay cut.

“That’s when she went ballistic,” Victoria says, shaking her head at her sister’s dramatics. “By the way,” Victoria adds, changing the subject before they get into an argument over whether Essie asked about Disney World three times or a hundred times, “I really love your room. It’s like a tropical wonderland in here.”

“Tía Lola helped me,” Juanita admits modestly, for a change.

Miguel actually thinks Juanita’s room is over the top. Garlands of colorful cut paper crisscross the room. The posts of her bed have been painted to look like palm trees with fronds forming a green canopy in the center. There is also a small purple couch that unfolds into a bed, where Esperanza will be sleeping. That’s how the girls have decided it. Meanwhile, Cari and Victoria will be in the guest room, which is connected to Juanita’s room by a door. “It’s like our very own private suite,” Victoria points out.

“Our very own private sweet! Yuuumy!” Cari chimes in.

“A suite, not a sweet.” Esperanza doesn’t exactly call her little sister “dummy,” but her tone of voice suggests that’s
what she thinks of anyone who doesn’t know the difference between an s-w-e-e-t and an s-u-i-t-e. Miguel would never admit it to Esperanza’s face, but he himself isn’t one hundred percent sure what a suite is. Of course, he does know it’s not something you eat.

“Maybe you’ll still get to go to Disney World, you think?” Juanita would have to bring up a sore point. But then, very nicely, as even Miguel would agree, Juanita offers to sleep on the fold-out couch and let Esperanza have the splendid bed. That way, even if she isn’t in Disney World, Esperanza can at least pretend she’s in Florida.