Tortilla Sun (15 page)

“Hi, Maggie,” I whispered. “I brought you a gift.”

I longed to hear her small voice. To watch her braids bounce across her back sack. To feel her soft hands around my waist.

I hung her back sack on a shelf near the bed so she could see it when she woke up. Burying my face in the side
of the bed, I set my hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I should never have been so selfish. I was only thinking about myself. But I wrote a story for you, the one where you’re the princess.”

Holding a stack of cards in one hand I read my words.

“Once there was an invisible girl from nowhere, who became friends with a princess from an enchanted forest. The princess was magic because she was one of the few people who could see the invisible girl. They listened to ghost stories and searched for treasure and soon they became sisters. But one day the little princess left the enchanted forest. Her sister searched for her night and day but couldn’t find her.

“She asked the stars, ‘Have you seen my sister?’

“They told her they hadn’t. Then she asked the moon, ‘Have you seen my sister?’

“The moon had no reply. She sat under a tree and wept. Then the wind came by and she asked the wind, ‘Have you seen my sister?’

“The wind replied, ‘She has taken a special ladder to heaven.’

“‘But how did she get there?’ the girl asked.

“‘She flew.’

“The next day, the invisible girl waited for the princess to fly down from the heavens. But each day the sun set and the moon appeared and the princess did not come home. The invisible
girl decided she needed magic to bring her sister home, but she didn’t have any. All she had was love. That night she climbed the highest tree and sent her love on the tail of the strongest wind.

“The next sunrise, the princess flew down from the sky. The invisible girl threw her arms around her welcoming her home.”

I stroked Maggie’s small fingers and smiled. “And the invisible girl wasn’t invisible ever again.”

When Nana and I got home that day, someone stood in the backyard herb garden. Walking toward the window for a closer look my heart skipped a beat. Was it really her?

“Mom!” I threw open the backdoor and ran toward her.

Mom ran to me with her arms open wide. “Izzy. I was so scared.” She held me at arm’s length and eyed me up and down, worry in her eyes. She pulled me to her tightly, like she hadn’t seen me in a century. “Thank God.”

Fresh tears sprung from my eyes. I nestled into her arms and we stood together for a long time. Finally, Mom stepped back and looked over my shoulder. “Hi, Mama.”

“It is good to see you,
mija
,” Nana said.

They embraced and cried.

Mom tucked her hair behind her ear and turned back to me. “I am just so grateful you weren’t hurt. I don’t think I could bear …”

Mom folded her arms across her chest as we eased into the chairs under the portal. “Izzy, so much has changed. I was wrong. I didn’t see it …” She took a deep breath. “Somehow, Costa Rica brought me closer to my roots.”

I examined her face, her eyes, her mouth. Dad had loved her. And she had lost something too.

She continued. “The way the moon hung low across the jungle. It felt magical. Like the village.”

Nana leaned across the table and patted Mom’s hand.

“A flood of memories washed over me there, memories I couldn’t run from anymore.” She paused, turning her face to the sun. “I remembered those nights when we hiked the valley together. Remember, Mama?”

Nana laughed through her tears. “I remember.”

Mom leaned back and took a long deep breath, like breathing in fresh-baked
empanadas
. “I have missed this place.” She reached for my hand. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

Before we left, I grabbed my canvas bag from the house and tossed the ball inside.

We strolled down the trails of the village toward the edge of the river. I listened to the sound of the rushing waters. The sun floated across the middle of the sky making its descent into the west. Mom led me to a patch of soft earth near the river’s edge where we nestled under a small tree.

“He loved you so much, Izzy. He would be proud of you.” Tears rolled gently down her face.

I plucked a dandelion from the ground and twisted it between my fingers, letting her words settle inside me.

“That’s what he said.” I avoided Mom’s eyes, afraid she might not believe me.

“What who said?”

“The night at the river. I woke up on the riverbank, but … first I went …” I glanced at Mom’s face. She was still listening. “I saw Dad.”

Mom placed her head on my shoulder and sighed. “I visit him in my dreams too.”

I drew back and searched her eyes. “No, it wasn’t a dream. He was there.”

“Where?”

Pulling my knees into my chest, I said, “A visiting place.”

She stroked my hair and pressed her lips together as though she was deciding whether it was true. Whether she should believe me. Mom’s voice quivered. “There is a village myth of such a place.”

“He told me about the words on the baseball,” I said.

Recognition flashed across her face.

Words spilled from my mouth as I reached into the bag and pulled the ball out. “I took it from the box. I’m sorry.”

Mom scanned the words written across the ball. She choked back a sob. “‘Because Love is Magic.’ How could you know?”

Blinking back tears I whispered, “He told me to ask you. That you’d tell me.”

Mom’s bewildered eyes darted back and forth across my face. She took a deep breath and searched the distance like she would find the right words somewhere on the horizon. “He asked me to marry him right before a championship game. I only laughed and told him we were too young. But in my deepest heart I wanted to say yes.”

“Then what happened?”

“He asked again and still I said no. I told him I needed a sign. A sign from heaven.” Mom rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why. I knew I would say yes. But it was too much fun teasing him.”

I leaned forward, not wanting to miss one word.

“He said that if he could hit a home run on his first time up to bat that night, it would be a sign.”

Mom stroked her fingers through my hair. “I told him he was crazy. How could he control that? Actually I kind of worried he wouldn’t be able to and then I’d have to say no for sure. ‘How do you know you can?’ I asked him. He smiled that perfect smile and said, ‘Because love is magic.’” She took a deep breath and smiled. “And he did it.”

“You must’ve been so sad when he died. I’m sorry, Mom.”

In the distance, hues of gold and pink melted into the mountain range, casting a watermelon glow.

“How did the words get erased?”

Mom shrugged. “I have no idea. He didn’t play with it again after the home run. Maybe they wore off over time? All that matters is you know the truth and the words are back where they belong.”

We sat in silence listening to the gurgling river and the soft wind stirring the trees.

She patted my hand and said, “Do you have any other questions?”

“He named me Bella?” I whispered.

She brushed her hair from her face and wiped her tears. “Your father loved the name Bella. We’d called you that from the time I became pregnant.” She shook her head and choked back the tears. “But once he was gone, I just couldn’t call you by that name every day. I needed to forget. But it’s still your name if you want to keep it.”

“I do.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Mom, but Isadora? It’s so old-fashioned.”

She laughed too.

“You can still call me Izzy for short, but Isabella is a good writer’s name. Don’t you think?”

“Yes. Very writerly,” Mom nodded.

I picked at the wild grass. “My name is the only thing Dad ever gave me.”

“No.” Mom hugged me. “He gave you his heart. His way of seeing the world and all its magic.”

I leaned toward the melting sun.

“And now I see that it wasn’t an accident I got that funding to go away. You were meant to come here this summer. I guess in my heart I knew you’d find the truth. I just didn’t think I could be the one to tell you, and I’m so sorry.”

“I understand, Mom.”

We sat in silence for another moment before she said, “It’s not your fault, Izzy. What happened to Maggie had nothing to do with you. Just like your father’s death wasn’t my fault. For a long time I blamed myself.” She rested her hand on mine. “But you know what I’ve learned? That sometimes we can’t explain how life happens. Life unfolds exactly as it is meant to, in just the right time and place.”

I brushed the grass with my fingertips.

She squeezed my hand. “Are you glad you came after all?”

I nodded. “You were right when you said I’d be surprised. And that it’s strange and beautiful here.” A light wind swirled all around us and I smiled.

“I have missed that sight.” Mom sighed as she stared across the valley. “It’s good to finally be home. For good.”

The distant sun spread a brilliant rosy hue across the sky, like a warm blanket before the night pushes out the light. I felt small under the sky, but in my mother’s arms I felt safe.

Mom stood and stretched. “You ready?”

“Not yet. I want to be alone for a minute.”

Mom headed back to the village, leaving me alone. Only a sliver of blushing sky lingered.

I was lost in my own thoughts as I strolled down the path home, thinking about how much my life had changed over summer.

“Hi, Izzy.” Mateo stepped from the shadows and leaned against the tree. A wave of dark hair hung over his eye. “I brought you some
empanadas
.” He handed me a brown paper sack tied at the top with blue ribbon. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about your dad.”

I squished the paper sack in the palm of my hand. “It probably sounded pretty crazy. Want one?” I held out the sack.

He laughed nervously. “I already ate a few. So, have you heard any more about Maggie?”

“Not yet. But I really want to do something special for her … when she comes home.”

“Like what?”

“I have an idea, but I’m not sure if it will work.”

“What? Tell me.”

“I think I have a way for her to take her ladder to heaven. To give the yarn back to her mom.”

“Let me guess, you want me to grow wings, right?” he teased.

“Actually, that’s not too far off.”

Mateo looked confused. “I was just kidding.”

I stepped closer and told him my plan for Maggie. “So you think it’ll work?”

Mateo’s dark shiny eyes searched my face. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, but why was he looking at me that way? My stomach did a little flip.

Inching backward, I stumbled over a branch and Mateo grabbed hold of my arm.

And that’s when it happened.

He leaned in and kissed me. And as he did, I closed my eyes and felt the world tilting beneath me.

The next morning, Nana’s voice jolted me from my sleep. “
Que milagro
!”

I jumped out of bed and ran to the living room with Frida prancing a step ahead of me.

“Nana, what are you doing here? I thought you spent the night at the hospital.”

She wrapped her arms around my waist and danced me around the room, laughing and crying at the same time. “Our prayers have been answered. She is coming home!”

Mom ran into the room tugging at the belt on her robe. “What’s all this about, Mama?”

My heart soared. “Maggie is coming home, Mom!”

Nana gripped our hands creating a circle. “Early this morning, I was just getting ready to come home for a rest when she opened her eyes and spoke to me.” She clapped her hands together and laughed. “She said she was hungry!”

“When can I see her?” I asked now wide awake.

“The doctors want to run a few more tests today—so no visitors—but if all goes well, tomorrow.”

Frida bounced toward the door as if she understood that Maggie was coming home. “You’re not going anywhere.” I chuckled. “She’ll be home soon.” It was when I bent down and hoisted her over my shoulder that I noticed it was gone.

The last scrap of black crepe had disappeared.

Twenty-four hours can seem like a lifetime when you’re waiting for something important. But that’s how long I had to wait to see Maggie. I chiseled those hours away in the kitchen cooking with Mom. We kept busy preparing all of Maggie’s favorite foods—strawberries dipped in sugar, bean burritos, red chile
enchiladas
and
sopaipillas
filled with tomatoes and cheese.

Mom told me all about Dad. “Your dad had a great sense of humor, always had to put his left shoe on first, loved animals, had a crooked smile, lived for strawberry ice cream rolled in tortillas, and believed he could save the world one person at a time.”
I ate up the details of my father’s life like bits of warm
tortilla
soaked in honey.

When I heard the car roll across the crushed gravel in the driveway, I bolted from the kitchen into the living room. “She’s here!”

I stood at the screen door and watched Maggie walk slowly across the courtyard. Frida was right behind, wagging her tail with all her might.

“Maggie!” I opened the door and nearly tumbled on top of her. She backed up laughing.

“¿
Tienes hambre
?” Nana asked Maggie as she inched her way past us.

“Starved,” Maggie said.

“What do you want—ice cream, cookies,
pan dulce
? Anything you want.” Nana smiled.

Maggie narrowed her eyes at me. “I want one of Izzy’s
tortillas
and I want it round like the sun.”

“You know you’re asking for the impossible, right?” I said smiling.

Maggie kissed the top of Frida’s head. “Frida wants one too, right Frida?” She moved Frida’s head up and down.

Nana followed me into the kitchen while Maggie and Mom waited in the living room.

I measured the ingredients with Nana watching carefully. She took my hands and helped me press the dough.

“
Sí, sí
that’s it,
mija
, it has only been practice up until now and you had to practice to learn the basics. But now you are ready.” She handed me the amber bottle.

“How does the secret ingredient work?”