Point Me to Tomorrow (8 page)

A FEW WEEKS LATER
, Alicia's college drama had calmed down considerably. Alicia and her friends had gotten through the SATs, and while they'd all found them harder than the practice tests, they were all fairly confident that they'd done well. With the help of Mr. Stevens, Alicia had not only stood up for a whole ten seconds on her longboard, she'd also added UC Berkeley, NYU, and the University of Michigan to the list of colleges she was applying to. With their applications well under way, the girls were finally about to turn their attention back to the mystery
quince
. This was good, because during the last week of October, they received an e-mail from Julia Centavo:

Dear Amigas Inc.,


We are looking forward to receiving the detailed proposal for my client's
quince
on November 1st, as promised. We trust that you've had a good semester. The young woman I work for has been very busy, but now her schedule has cleared and we hope to get biweekly check-ins from your team for her review.


Cordialmente
,


Julia Centavo


It was October 30, and the three partners in Amigas Inc. were embarrassed to admit that in the rush of schoolwork, college applications, and, in Alicia's case, surfing lessons, they had, uncharacteristically, neglected to do almost any work on Carmela Ortega's
quince
. It was time to move into high gear. With this in mind, Alicia texted Carolina and Patricia Reinoso:
Chicas, hope you've found some good potentials for us because we need help and fast!

Carolina Reinoso wrote back right away:
Can you meet us at the quad after school? 3 pm?

Alicia answered:
Claro, see you then.

At three
P.M.
sharp, Alicia, Jamie, and Carmen arrived at their favorite bench in the quad, to find that Carolina and Patricia were already there. The normally casual and relaxed Reinoso girls were both formally dressed in pin-striped pants and button-down shirts. They both looked nervous.

Jamie, never one to beat around the bush, prodded them. “Is there a problem? Because my Spidey sense is telling me something is up.”

Patricia took a deep breath and said, “We read each and every application—all two hundred sixty-seven of them. And we want to be perfectly honest: there were a few decent candidates….”

Carolina jumped in. “But we don't think you should hire any of them. You should hire
us
.”

Alicia, Carmen, and Jamie were more than surprised. While they had all enjoyed the friendship that had developed with the Reinoso cousins over the past few months, they still put them in the category of fabulous former clients, like Dash's sister, Binky Mortimer.

Jamie was immediately and categorically against the idea. “But you guys are our friends. What we're looking for is minions—worker bees! Sophomores who will be at our beck and call! Girls whom we could easily cut loose if they don't work out. Hiring you two is definitely not what I had in mind.” Pouting, she took a seat on the opposite bench. Then, as was her wont, she took out her iPhone and began texting Dash.

Alicia turned to Carmen and asked, “What do you think?”

Carmen thought for a moment and then turned to the younger girls. “Well, I love you both, and not just because you campaigned to have me elected queen of the winter formal last year! But part of the reason we were aiming for sophomores was that we wanted to pick people who could run the business for two years. When you graduate next year, we'll be right back where we started.”

Carolina sighed. “We know. And that's a totally valid point.”

Patricia turned to Jamie. “And I feel you,
chica
. I kind of would love to have some sophomore underlings myself.”

Carolina continued, “But as we read the applications, we couldn't help but think that Amigas Inc. isn't just some school club that is run out of the activities office with an interchangeable string of elected leaders. This is a serious business, and it's a serious opportunity. Honestly, I don't think you want minions. I think you want business partners, people who can represent both you and the cultural institution of
quinceañeras
. We would do that.”

Carmen tugged at Alicia's sleeve. “So what do you think, Alicia? You're the head
chica
in charge.”

Alicia paused. It was flattering, really, that girls as cool as Carolina and Patricia wanted to be part of the business. But she had questions, lots of them. “Patricia, you're the star of the school basketball team, and Carolina, you're a cheerleader and head of the environmental club. How will you juggle Amigas Inc. with the rest of your extracurricular activities
and
school?”

Carolina said, “Part of what's so attractive to us about this opportunity is that it's a chance for us to distinguish ourselves next fall, when we're in your position, applying for colleges. Patricia's got more going on than I do. She's a talented athlete. But at the end of the day, there are hundreds of high school basketball players, cheerleaders, and school club presidents applying to college every year. How many of those students can say that they are also successful entrepreneurs?”

Alicia nodded. She loved to hear other people talk about how great the Amigas Inc. business was. She felt that, if she said it, she'd have been bragging about herself and her friends. But when someone like Carolina, or Serena Shih from Harvard, said it, that was totally different—it was indicative of how meaningful the work really was.

Patricia chimed in, “We've been looking for a project we can work on together. To tell you the truth, when we were growing up, we spent nearly every waking hour running in and out of each other's houses. Then we came to high school, and it's like we live in different worlds. But the fact is, we love our Latina heritage, we want to learn more about different cultural traditions, and working on Amigas Inc. seems like a great way to bring all of that together.”

Alicia started to speak. “Well—”

But Patricia interrupted her. “Wait, there's more! We'd like to offer to take the lead on the mystery
quince
, under your supervision. And if you find us lacking, then no harm, no foul. You'll have the whole spring semester to find some different successors.”

Carolina reached into her very stylish tote bag and took out three folders. She gave one to each of the
amigas
.

“What's this?” Alicia asked.

Carolina explained. “It's a proposal for Carmela Ortega's
quinceañera
, with suggested themes, venues, colors, favors, catering, stationery options…”

Alicia flipped through the proposal. It seemed very thorough, but she was beginning to think it was awkward to discuss the pros and cons of handing the business over to Carolina and Patricia right in front of them.

She looked up at the cousins and said, “This is amazing; thank you. But I think the executive committee needs to meet—”

Jamie stopped texting and asked, “Wait a second, who's the executive committee?”

Carmen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “She means us! You, me, and Lici.”

Jamie returned to her phone mumbling, “Oh, yeah, right.”

Alicia smiled at Carolina and Patricia. “Excuse my friend. Her boyfriend's away at college, and it's like she just discovered social networking. Give us a chance to meet and discuss these ideas. Carmela Ortega is a very important client, and we have to weigh all of this carefully.”

Carolina stood up and extended her hand for Alicia to shake. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Alicia resisted the urge to laugh. Even more than Patricia, it was clear that Carolina was taking the whole enterprise superseriously. Although Carolina was an A student and spearheaded the environmental club, the students of C.G. clearly saw her as the popular blond cheerleader, an identity that was not completely to her liking. Alicia understood that Carolina viewed working for Amigas Inc. as an opportunity to prove that she was more than just a pretty, perky girl. Alicia could respect that. After all, hadn't part of what drove her to create the business been the desire to show that she was more than the sheltered daughter of two supersuccessful Miami professionals?

The
amigas
had barely walked away when Carolina came running after them. “One more thing,” she said, slightly out of breath. She reached into her bag and grabbed three more folders. “I know you guys need options. Here's a list of our top twelve choices among the applicants, with our assessments of their strengths, weaknesses, and what they could offer Amigas Inc.”

Now Alicia was really impressed. A studied analysis of the competition was not something most girls would offer up. It was one thing to put together a proposal for a
quince
. Every girl she'd known, especially those who'd had big
quinceañera
celebrations, relished the idea of giving advice about someone else's big day. In a way, it was a chance to relive the celebration, making new and different choices. Sometimes, Alicia thought the reason she got so crazily possessive about the business was that she was the only one in the group who'd never had a
quinceañera
.

Way back when she was fourteen, she'd made the decision to take a trip to Spain with Carmen and her family to celebrate her fifteenth birthday, rather than have a big, expensive party. At the time, she had attended literally dozens of corny
quinces
with girls who wore too much makeup and took the whole occasion as an excuse to get dolled up in big poufy dresses with more layers than a wedding cake. She hadn't known back then how cool a
quince
could be. Ever since, as she had helped her friends and clients plan theirs, she was always a little sorry that, back when it had been time for her special day, she hadn't thought to break with tradition, to do the kind of modern and meaningful ceremony for which Amigas Inc. was now so well known.

How did that expression go? Alicia all at once remembered—
Necessity is the mother of invention
. She'd invented the kind of cool, big-sister party-planning business that would have made all the difference when she herself was considering having a
quinceañera
. But it was too late now. What mattered was making sure that Carmela Ortega had a
quince
that was both memorable and meaningful, and that the partners in Amigas Inc. entrusted their business to someone—or some group of someones—who would do the business proud.

THAT SATURDAY
, Alicia woke up at seven to find the house unusually silent. Then she remembered. Maribelle had the day off, and her parents had attended a big political fund-raiser the night before. They would undoubtedly be sleeping in. It was rare to have the house almost to herself. So she changed into her swimsuit, went out, and tiptoed toward the pool.

She rarely ever did laps anymore, but in the quiet of the morning, it felt good just to swim silently from one end of the pool to the other. Mr. Stevens was at a weekend economics conference, so there was no Surfing the New Economy class. And while the Cruz family pool was no substitute for the Atlantic Ocean, as she did her laps, she could close her eyes and picture herself paddling out and imagine the feel and taste of the salt water on her lips and skin.

When she was done swimming, it was eight
A.M.
, and she figured it was now not too early to text Jamie and Carmen.
Hey, you guys, want to come over for breakfast and discuss the proposal? I'm making waffles.

Alicia did not do much cooking, mostly because anything she might have made would have paled in comparison with the culinary masterpieces that Maribelle turned out on the regular. Still, ever since she was a kid, Alicia had loved making waffles. She must have been seven when Maribelle had first taught her how to make the batter and, holding her hand, let her pour it into the electric waffle iron. As she got older, she had experimented more and more with the ingredients. Sometimes she did just fruit, cutting up blueberries, strawberries, and bing cherries when she had them. Then she went through a sweet phase, adding chocolate chips, caramel swirls, even bits of marshmallow. Finally, she combined it all to make what she called an everything waffle, which was everything that she loved, all mixed into one big lump of battery goodness: strawberries, chocolate chips, marshmallows, and bits of almond and toffee for a bit of crunch. It was delicious. And while Maribelle frowned on this—“You should call it the dentist special!
¡Ay, niña!
”—her friends loved it.

Which was why, despite the earliness of the hour, Alicia soon received two responses for her invitation. Jamie wrote:
Everything waffles? Give me 20 minutes.

Carmen wrote:
Yum. On my way.

Alicia smiled. It was always so much fun to feed her friends. Throwing a robe on over her swimsuit, she went into the kitchen and began to mix up the ingredients.

By the time Carmen and Jamie arrived, Alicia's parents were up; they joined the girls at the breakfast table, in the middle of which was a big stack of everything waffles. And Maribelle had left a tropical fruit salad in the fridge with a note that said,
To counteract the sugary disaster you will concoct in my absence.
Jamie made the coffee—strong, just the way the Cruzes liked it. And Carmen brought over a loaf of her mother's homemade banana bread.

There were a few moments of silence as they all filled their plates and took their first satisfying bites. Then Alicia's mother asked, “So, how goes it with the mystery
quince
?”

Alicia took out the folder that the Reinoso cousins had prepared. “Well, that's actually why I invited Carmen and Jamie over to breakfast. We've got a lot to discuss.”

She filled her parents in on Carolina's and Patricia's business proposal, in which the cousins suggested that they apprentice under the three girls for the rest of the school year, then take over when the original members all left for college.

“Well, what do you think of their ideas for the mystery
quince
?” her mother asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Alicia flipped the folder open. “Well, for one, I love the venue.”

The Reinoso girls had suggested that Amigas Inc. rent Chez Gusteau, a fancy French restaurant with stunning views of the airport runways.

“I can't believe we've never thought of having a
quince
there before,” Alicia said. “It's so modern, so global chic to be turning fifteen and watching planes take off for destinations all over the world.”

Carmen agreed. “It's a wonderful space, and I wonder, do you think the president will loan Carmela Ortega Air Force One?”

Alicia's father almost choked on his waffle. “Do you guys honestly think that the president loans out his
personal
, paid-for-by-taxpayers plane for a teenage girl to travel to her birthday party in Miami?”

Holding the pan with a pot holder, Alicia brought a warm stack of waffles to the table. “It's not just any birthday party,” she said. “It's Carmela Ortega's
quince
.”

Her father shook his head in mock distress. “
Hijas
, please, take your heads out of the clouds and return to planet earth.”

Alicia's mother weighed in. “It doesn't matter. If it is actually her, she and probably many of her guests will be arriving by airplane, so being near the airport will be nice.”

“I like the venue,” Jamie commented. “Now, does that eliminate the need for us to find a caterer?”

Alicia pulled out a paper-clipped stack of menus. “The Reinoso girls got the chef at the restaurant to propose several different menus. These all look really good to me. We can e-mail them to Julia Centavo. We need the girls to send us an electronic version.”

Jamie lifted her phone and said, “Just checked the Amigas Inc. e-mail address. They've already sent an electronic version. So, which menu do you like, Lici? I kind of love the French brasserie menu: the mussels and fries; the mini hamburgers; the mini ham sandwiches.”

Alicia considered. It all sounded delicious, but even so, she said, “I like the French Polynesian menu. It's imaginative but sounds really tasty, but formal enough for a sit-down: coconut crabmeat soup, roasted pork and ginger fried rice, pineapple upside-down cake. Yum, pineapple upside-down cake is my
favorite
.”

Carmen held up a brightly colored sheet of paper. “Look at this supercute menu of nonalcoholic ‘mocktails.' I love the Tiki hut theme and illustrations.”

Alicia examined the drinks menu. “These illustrations read a little young to me. But the idea of a mocktail menu I love, love, love.”

Her mother said, “It sounds like you guys are suitably impressed. Are Carolina and Patricia hired?”

Alicia turned to her friends. “
¿Qué piensan?
I think they've gone above and beyond. It's not all ready to go, but it definitely shows they've got a knack for this.”

Jamie raised her hand.

“Yes, Jamie?” Alicia asked, amused.

“I'm voting yes, because I've actually got to—” Jamie began.

“Dash,” Alicia said, finishing her sentence for her.

“Exactly,” Jamie beamed. She gulped down the rest of her orange juice and hugged Alicia's parents.

“Even if we hire the Reinosos, we've actually still got a lot of work to do on Carmela's
quince
,” Alicia yelled to Jamie, who was click-clacking down the hall in her kitten heels.

“I know,” Jamie called out over her shoulder. “Sign me up for photography, videography, favors, and overall fabulous touches.”

Alicia shook her head. If anyone else had made that statement she would've accused them of passing the buck. But she knew that what Jamie promised was exactly what Jamie could be counted on to deliver—especially the “overall fabulous touches.”

“So, it's just you and me, Carmen,” Alicia observed.

Carmen stood up sheepishly and mumbled, “Can I get a couple of everything waffles to go? Maxo's grandmother is visiting from New York, and I'm trying to make her a blanket of traditional Haitian prayer flags, and let's just say I've bitten off more than I can sew.”

Alicia sighed. “But what am I going to do? Julia Centavo is expecting a proposal by Monday.”

Carmen squeezed her friend's shoulder, “Well, why don't you make any changes you want to the electronic file and then we'll tell Carolina and Patricia tonight that they are hired and they can do the rest. They are going to be so-o-o-o excited.”

“Well, okay,” Alicia said.

A few minutes after Carmen left, Alicia heard the doorbell ring. She assumed that Carmen had forgotten something—a scarf or some other accessory she'd made that Alicia would have been perfectly happy to keep. She was surprised to see Gaz at the front door.

He kissed her deeply. “
Hola
, stranger.”

She smiled, feeling thankful that she'd brushed her teeth right after breakfast!

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He grinned. “I was sort of, kind of, not anywhere near here. But I missed you, and I don't have to be at work until four. So I thought I'd drop by.”

Alicia pouted. “You don't have to be at work until later, but I've really got to work now. I've got to focus on this proposal for Carmela Ortega's
quince
. Do you have any interest in helping me?” she asked, hopefully.

“That depends,” Gaz said flirtatiously. “Do you have any interest in feeding me? Because I will work for food.”

Three hours, six everything waffles, two Gorgonzola-stuffed burgers, four cans of Coca-Cola, and half a cheesecake later, this was what Alicia e-mailed her mystery client:

Dear Ms. Centavo,


It is with great pleasure that we offer the following proposal for your client's fifteenth-birthday celebration. As soon as you let us know your preferences, we will begin to finalize the details.


Location:


Chez Gusteau


This traditional French restaurant offers stunning views of planes landing and arriving at Miami International Airport. Double-paned windows ensure that noise is not an issue.


Theme:


Paris Nights, Miami Mornings


Our basic concept is that your client, whoever she is, is a girl of the world. With the Miami airport as our backdrop and the French restaurant as the venue, we think that this theme will give us a lot of room to be creative and will be singularly evocative for both the girl of honor and her guests.


Color scheme:


We envision this as a clean, ultrasophisticated event. We would suggest a sharp black-and-white color scheme, with hot pink as the accent color.


Menu:


The space would be divided into two rooms. The formal dining room, with the theme “Paris Nights,” would offer a French-inspired sit-down meal. We are including several menus, including a contemporary French Polynesian fusion menu and a classic Parisian brasserie menu.


The second room would serve as the reception area and then later as the dance space, where, designwise, we would focus on “Miami Mornings.” We would also offer a selection of nonalcoholic cocktails, aka “mocktails,” with illustrations that would be slightly more sophisticated than what you see here.


Flowers:


Please see the attached JPEGs for samples of bouquets from a new florist we are considering, Garden and Bloom.


Activities and favors:


In the courtyard of the restaurant, in between the reception and the sit-down meal areas, we would like to suggest constructing a backdrop where guests can have their pictures taken. Some thoughts for the backdrop would be a Parisian street scene, a luxury jet, and an image of Miami Beach. Your
quince
and her friends are people who are going places, and they would enjoy posing for these photos, as well as taking small framed photos home as keepsakes at the end of the evening.


After dinner, while a band plays indoors, we would cover the photo backdrop with a white sheet and project a movie in the breezeway of the restaurant. Guests could choose between dancing indoors and gathering on couches to watch a classic Hollywood film. The film would, of course, be of your client's choosing.


Immediate pending items:


1. Dress designs. Will your client be needing a dress? Or will she be bringing one? We have an excellent designer/seamstress on our team.

2. Father-daughter
vals
. How might we help your client with the choreography of this very important element, considering that we are not meeting her until the day of the event?

3. Damas
and
chambelanes
. Traditionally, the
quince
is attended by a court of seven girls (
damas
) and seven boys (
chambelanes
). How would you like us to handle this group? We usually dress or source their outfits as well as handling any special choreography they might require.

4. Church ceremony. If your client is Catholic: We've worked with some of the most beautiful churches in the area and can arrange meetings as you need them.


Just as Alicia was about to hit send, Gaz, who had single-handedly polished off three pieces of cheesecake, shyly said, “I know this client is a big deal. Maybe the biggest deal you've ever represented. But would you feel comfortable presenting my music to her to consider for the performance?”