Chapter 4

I pulled away from Paco, though we hadn’t been touching. “I can’t help but think my father would be disappointed I didn’t come up with a reference from West Side Story instead.”

Paco smiled. “You haven’t given him a chance to know who you are now. You may not be who he envisioned, but that doesn’t mean he won’t love and admire who you are.”

Paco the cook was some kind of Yoda. I wondered how he’d become so wise so young. We spent much of the rest of the day playing a musical guessing game. When one of us walked by the other—he was mostly at the grill, I was mostly at the sink—we would draw something on the other’s back with our finger. We tried to be clandestine about it, since my papá was never far away. I started easy. My first clue was a crown. There were many musicals with royalty in them, but I had chosen The King and Iafter our discussion out back.