Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Crystal?” came the reply, and then there was her mom, Sofia. She was wearing a red apron over loose jeans and a frilly red smock. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her and she let out a long, low whistle. “Hola, mija,” Sofia exclaimed, her voice thick with affection. “Te ves increíble.”
“Gracias, Mama.” Crystal did a little spin. “I see you got the memo about wearing red.”
“It’s our color.” She pulled Crystal into a long embrace and then stood back, admiring her daughter again. “You off to Ray’s?”
Crystal nodded. “You should join me.”
Sofia laughed. “I wouldn’t want to show you up, mi amor, by outdancing you on the floor.”
Her mom was right about that. When she was younger, her mother had competed in salsa championships. She was a vision: full of passion and flair, but absolute precision. She should have been a professional dancer, but as Crystal knew only too well, life sometimes got in the way of dreams.
She followed her mom into the kitchen, where she insisted on serving Crystal some slow-cooked pork stew even though she’d eaten dinner before she left the house. It was useless to argue. So she accepted a small bowl of the delicious-smelling stew and sat down at the family table. Its once smooth oak surface was marked with years of use. Crystal traced the small grooves and dents from where she and her siblings had banged pots and pans as kids, and caught the edges with their compasses and pens as they did their schoolwork. The kitchen was the heart of the home, where everyone piled in the minute they were home. Crystal sighed. She missed her younger brother and sister, who’d both moved away.
Her mom sat back in her chair and seemed to relish watching Crystal eat. “So,” she said, “if you didn’t visit your mama for her cooking, then to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Crystal laughed. “I do feed myself sometimes,” she said. “Although my cooking, like my dancing, is never as good as yours.” She took another bite, savoring the smoky flavors. And then, more quietly, she said, “I came for advice, Mama.”
Sofia nodded and her warm eyes crinkled kindly. She waited for her daughter to speak.
Crystal set down her fork. “Do you remember what I wanted to be when I grew up?”
“Of course. You were set on becoming a doctor. You would line up all your stuffed animals and listen to their hearts with your play stethoscope. Then you’d give them each a blueberry for medicine.” She chuckled fondly at the memory. “By the time you were in high school, you were so serious about your studies that I used to worry you were missing out on all the fun you should have been having at that age.” She paused and her expression turned melancholy. “If things had been different at home…” After a moment, she took Crystal’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “You had the grades for medical school. The scholarship was all lined up.”
Crystal nodded and gave her mom a reassuring smile. “I love my life, Mama. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. But today someone reminded me of that early dream and I wondered… Well, I wondered if it was still possible. I’ve saved a lot of money the past few years and I have a brilliant team who could look after the business. Maybe I could find a way to go back to school.”
Crystal realized she’d been so fixed on imagining a different future for herself, she had been gazing past her mother and through the small kitchen window, which was framed by pots of trailing herbs. Now she lifted her eyes to her mother’s and was surprised to see they were wet with tears.
“Mama!” she exclaimed. “What is it?”
Sofia shook her head, smiling. “I know what you had to give up to help me with the mortgage, when instead it should have been me helping you find ways to pay your way through medical school. You kept the roof over our heads. You were a gift to me. The perfect daughter.”
Crystal shook her head, her own eyes filling. “No, it’s not your fault. Things weren’t easy for you and I wanted to help. You never asked me not to go to medical school. I chose to keep working.”
Sofia wiped her eyes. “You are a good girl, Crystal. You work hard and you are humble and kind. If you want to follow your childhood dream, you should. No one deserves it more than you.”
Crystal blinked to keep the tears from falling. Her mom’s encouragement was all she needed—the idea had been blessed. Damien was right. Maybe it was time to try something new, the way he was with jazz.
She stood and hugged her mom, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling reassured in a way she hadn’t realized had been missing. She headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her lipstick. As she did, she stared at herself in the mirror, dark eyes sparkling back at her with excitement. She was going to do it. She was going back to school.