Chapter 5

The big guy upstairs and I hadn’t been on good terms. I don’t think I had it in my heart to forgive what happened to me back in Texas. Sometimes the nightmares still kept me up at night no matter how hard I tried to fight them. Despite that, Jessica urged me to join her for mass on Ash Wednesday.

I was raised Catholic, and even though I wasn’t a good Catholic, I knew it was important for me to be there. I hadn’t been to church in a long time, but the hymns and songs were familiar to me. It connected me to my family. I knew that the mass here in Portland would be the same mass that they were attending right now.

Maybe that’s why I came. I touched my cross necklace that I kept under my collar. It was the nicest gift that mi papa ever gave me before he passed.

When it was time to accept communion, Jessica and I both did not accept it. I’ve been away for so long and Jessica refused to confess because in her words, “Well, I’m not going to confession yet, because I’m going to do it again. Maybe when I find a husband.”

That afternoon, I decided to do a video call with mi familia. I was missing them, being so far away. I was planning to go visit during spring break in a few weeks and I was looking forward to it. It was going to be after Jessica’s big spring break bash that she’s doing that first weekend. I didn’t even know that she had joined a sorority, but good for her.

The Zoom camera buffered for a moment before connecting to mama. Seeing her face made me smile so big as I waved at her.

“¡Astridita!” she exclaimed in Spanish. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, mama,” I reply. She always got so annoyed when I would reply to her in English, so I would usually speak exclusively in Spanish. She didn’t want me to lose my native tongue.

Jessica popped over my shoulder. “Mama Carmen. You look great! So young! Is that a new skincare?”

Jessica, on the other hand, frequently teased my mother by going back and forth between Spanish and English. Mi mama never seemed to mind when it was Jessica, though. My mother bashfully shook her hands at Jessica and said, “Ah, you noticed.”

“Of course, Carmen. I hope I look as good as you when I’m thirty-five.”

“¡Ay! You’re too good to me,” she looked at me. “How are you doing, Astrid? Is school coming along okay?”

“Si, mama. Class is going very well. I’m learning a lot.”

“Good, I had my doubts about you dropping everything and starting again, but it was for the best. When you visit, you are going to have to teach me a few things,” mama teased. She seemed proud and that was enough to validate my decision. “I miss you, mija.”

I smiled. “I miss you too.”

From behind her, I could hear my siblings saying that they wanted to talk to me. Mama rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. Fine. Your siblings miss you too. I’ll put them on.”

All five of my younger siblings crowded the screen. I was the eldest, so it was my job to prove that they can pursue their dreams too. I was awarded a grant to go to college and I hope that one day, I’ll be able to pay for their educations. Mi mama worked so hard, every day, that I wanted to lift this burden from her.

I focused on my youngest sibling, Felix. Jessica feigned surprise and said, “¡Ay, papi! Look at how big you’re getting!”

Felix pushed my other siblings from the screen to flex his muscles. He would be turning seven here in a few months. “Yeah! I can pick up those big milk cartons now!”

“Wow, so strong,” I replied.

Jessica and I must’ve talked to my family for hours. It was so nice to hear their stories and feel like I was a part of their lives again. It’s hard to be so far away, but at least I’m still involved. Finally, I closed my laptop, a big smile on my face. A rogue tear streamed down my face.

I was wrapped up in Jessica’s arms as she embraced me. Suddenly, I was crying. Hot tears cascaded down my cheeks. I wasn’t sad or angry, just homesick. Before bed, I made sure to say goodnight to that photo at my bedside, giving each of my siblings a goodnight kiss.

*****

Time for my culinary basics course. It had very quickly become my favorite class. I was catching up to those other culinary progenies even though I had a rocky start. I didn’t feel like poking my fingers into my eyes today, so I was wearing my glasses.

When I opened the door to the building, I saw Rowan leaning against the wall outside of his class. I nervously adjusted my glasses.

It was odd for him to be early. When he saw me, he stood up like he wanted to tell me something. My heart fluttered a little in my chest. Up until this point, I was so used to seeing him look at me with all I could interpret was either anger or disgust.

Which totally helped my self-esteem.

That wasn’t how he was looking at me today. He actually seemed totally normal. His lips even turned into a pleasant smile, which felt weird to me, but it suited him.

I couldn’t help the flush of blood to my face as I tried to reciprocate his friendly gesture. I probably looked super awkward with a half-smile that you only do to be polite to someone you don’t know very well.

“Hey, Astrid,” Rowan greeted.

“Hi?” it came out as more of a question than I meant it to.

The history professor from trivia night peeked his head out of the room. Now that I was seeing him on a regular day, I realized that the man must be in his mid-sixties. He looked from side to side and noticed me. “Oh, hello, Astrid Rodriguez,” he greeted before reaching around in his suit coat pocket for a small gift card.

“Professor Moore felt bad about not having a prize for you,” Rowan said nonchalantly.

“Yes, I was not expecting other participants, so here you go,” Professor Moore offered sheepishly. I accepted the prize as the professor reached out to hand it to me. “It’s only ten dollars to the campus coffee shop, but you deserve it!”

“Well, thank you, sir. I wasn’t participating for a prize but thank you. This is nice,” I reply.

“What year are you? Also pursuing a history degree?” Professor Moore asked.

“No, sir. I’m a culinary student. First-year.”

“Really? You’re a first-year? You don’t look-oh, I’m sorry, nevermind that,” Professor Moore stopped himself in fear of being rude.

“It’s okay. I’m starting a new career. I actually used to teach second-grade history,” I shared. It’s one of my proudest achievements.

“In that case, you are always welcome to join one of my lectures. Rowan here is my best student. This is a student that knows how to study. I’ve never seen such perfect grades in my whole career!”

“Professor’s a little chatty. Your class is about to start,” Rowan said, gesturing to my class and at my head chef who was eyeing me outside the classroom.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, exposing the side of my neck. I noticed Rowan’s gaze get more intense as he gazed at my neck. “Thank you. I should get going,” I said.

Rowan tore his stare off of me. He pushed off the wall and entered his classroom. The professor followed Rowan inside and gave me a wave.

I tried to sneak another glance at Rowan from inside his classroom. To my surprise, I caught him looking at me too. My cheeks flushed and I looked down at my shoes before walking into my classroom.