Free The Tequila Worm by Viola Canales

talk to me. I can’t read minds, you know.”
    “How is this all going to help me connect with Mama? I don’t have much time left.”
    “Okay,
genius,
here’s a clue: why do you think I’m having a
quinceañera
in the first place?”
    “Because you’ve turned fifteen.”
    “
Wrong!
Sofia. It’s because the
comadres
are making it happen for me. They all got together, including your mama, and they have been helping me plan it for at least six months now. And they’re making it really special and beautiful.
    “My family alone could never have done this. For one, they wouldn’t be able to afford it. And two, a
quinceañera
is my coming-out party, yes, but it also brings everyone together. So, all in all, it’s helping me learn how to be a
comadre
.”
    “How?”
    “Well, I had to learn how to go about getting
padrinos
and
madrinas
to sponsor and pay for my cake, the dance, the flowers, and on and on. I also had to assemble my court of honor by finding fourteen
damas
and fourteen
chambelanes
to represent my past fourteen years. I had to go talk to the priest about the spiritual meaning of turning fifteen.
    “It’s like preparing for your First Communion. It’s all about growing up and joining the community.”
    Berta turned left onto Main Street.
    “As for your mama, start acting like you’re not a kid anymore, and show her that you can take care of yourself.”
    “But
how
?”
    “Sofia, I know you can look out for yourself. Your papa knows too. But to your mama, you’re still a kid. And no mother is going to send her kid away, especially to a world she doesn’t know. So you need to
show
her that you’ve grown up.” Berta parked the car. “Show her that you can function in the real world too, in the world of people, not just in your books and soccer and those crazy stories you tell. And you can start doing it right now!”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It’s a surprise!” she said.
    Berta dragged me through the massive door of the hotel, the most beautiful in the valley. It was white stucco with a red-tiled roof and tiled floors and secret courtyards and stone fountains like a Spanish hacienda.
    Berta walked me out to the main courtyard.
    “Sofia! Sofia!” It was Mama. “Hurry! You only have ten minutes before it starts!” I turned and saw Berta laughing from across the courtyard. She was standing with Jamie beside the Spanish fountain.
    As I followed Mama to the ladies’ room, I got a few clues as to what this
surprise
was about. One was seeing Berta’s other
damas
standing around in their new dresses. Tía Belia, who was a seamstress, had been busy making them. Mama was carrying a big paper bag with her.
    Then I bumped into Beto, Berta’s older brother, in a tux! He had terrific teeth like Berta, and he was over six feet tall. He flashed a big smile at me. “Sofia, are you ready to dance?”
    I laughed. My headache was back. “She will be!” Mama said as she hurried me along. “Beto’s your
chambelan,
” she said as we passed the twelve mariachis tuning their instruments. They looked dazzling in their black charro outfits, with silver buttons all down their pants and vests.
    “Here.” She took my dress out of the bag.
    I went inside one of the stalls and put it on. It was white, with orange and green lace trim along the waist and collar, and puffy sleeves.
    “Sofia! Come on out! You’re late!”
    I sighed, then remembered what Berta had said. I put on a smile. But my headache kept getting worse.
    “Oh! Sofia!” Mama said. “You look so pretty, so
grown-up
!”
    Wow! This is working!
    “Thank you, Mama,” I said, tripping.
    “Hold still,” she scolded. I stood stiffly, doing my best to keep my smile going, as Mama pinned a pair of earrings on me, then added her pearl necklace, a touch of lipstick, rouge. But I drew the line at stockings. I put on my flat black shoes.
    “Oh! It’s amazing!” Mama said as she came at me again with a big tube of red lipstick. “You’re so