How Tía Lola Learned to Teach by Julia Álvarez Read Free Book Online

might catch on. In the frontdining room, the party is in full swing. From the ceiling hang three outstanding piñatas: a flourishing palm tree—nice to spot one in Vermont in winter; a jittery flamingo; and a donkey that looks a little henpecked. Trays of finger foods make the rounds. Tía Lola’s pastelitos are gone so quickly that Carmen doesn’t even get the chance to have one. “Oh well,” she says graciously. “I already pigged out at lunch.”
    There are speeches and toasts. Everyone wants to know if Rudy didn’t suspect that something was going on.
    “I guess I’m getting old or something,” Rudy says, laughing. “I didn’t have the slightest. I did think supplies looked kind of low for a Saturday night. And when this one,” he adds, pointing to his grinning son, “when he didn’t show up on time, I was ready to fire him.”
    “Fire me?!” Woody says, pretending to be indignant. In the summer, he has a business putting up tents for outdoor weddings and receptions. In the winter, he’s a ski bum, waitering some for his dad. It was his idea to order out most of the food—so that Rudy and all his staff could take the night off and enjoy themselves. But as the guest list grew, Mami and Tía Lola worriedly added “potluck” to the party invitation. Now there will be enough leftovers to feed the whole town for the rest of the week.
    The cake comes out—a replica of Rudy’s restaurant, with a white picket fence around the border formed by his sixty candles.
    Everyone sings “Happy Birthday.” Except for Tía Lola,who sings “Feliz Cumpleaños,” which is the same song, only in Spanish. Then, after a bunch of people remind Rudy to make a wish and another bunch remind him not to tell anyone his wish or it won’t come true, everyone insists that he give a speech.
    “I’m not much on public speaking,” Rudy begs off, but his guests are insistent.
    Finally, he gives in. “Okay, okay! Where to start? Let’s see. As some of you know, it’s now almost six years since Rita died.…”
    Rudy’s voice has gone all soft and gravelly. Woody, too, is suddenly finding great interest in his boots.
    “I just knew I had to make a change. All my life, I’d worked nine to five at the auto supply store, and I had some good years there, Mikey,” he says, nodding toward a chipmunk-cheeked man stuffing a piece of birthday cake in his mouth. “But I needed to start over. I always liked cooking. Rita used to say I wore the apron in the family. So I thought, Why not? I needed the company bad. This place saved my life.”
    The room is suddenly very quiet. Miguel glances over at Tía Lola, who is wiping tears from her eyes. When she is done with her handkerchief, she hands it over to Mami, who dabs her eyes and passes it on to Carmen, who is blinking back tears. Miguel can’t believe his rough-and-ready baseball coach would be so sappy. But then, Rudy is the first to say that a strong man shouldn’t be afraid of his own feelings.
    “Not only did I make it through those hard times,”Rudy continues, “but I’ve had a heck of a good time. Only one thing hasn’t been quite to my liking.…”
    Rudy pauses for effect, but the twinkle in his eye suggests that whatever dissatisfaction he’s going to confess won’t be anything major. “I’ve never liked the name Rudy’s.” When a bunch of folks protest that they love the name, Rudy holds up his hands. “I’ve already decided. Listen up. I’m naming the place after you—that’s right. You guys got me through, and that includes some new friends, now not so new.” Rudy looks over at Mami and Tía Lola, who bow their heads modestly at the compliment they see coming.
    “These two lovely ladies have taught me a bunch of recipes, and also a whole lot about friendship. So I thought Amigos Café would be a great name, to thank them and you and to remind us all of our warm southern neighbors, especially during these cold winter months!”
    Everyone hoots and claps.