02.

417 23 74
                                    

chapter two — celia cruz and paint stained levis

MAY 2, 1985

After a restless and hectic weekend full of unpacking and dressing up their new home, the three finally had a day to relax and revel in their accomplishments. Irene woke to the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen and the soft sounds of whatever Spanish record her mother was playing in the living room as she cooked and sang along. Her mothers voice grew louder as she shuffled into the kitchen rubbing her itchy eyes. She yawned, a smile quickly washing over her face as she watched the older woman dance to the sounds of Celia Cruz and Johnny Pacheco while she poured herself some more coffee.

Sofia turned, startled by her daughter's presence momentarily. She swiftly placed her cup down and pulled her daughter toward her – urging her to follow the rhythm of music. They swirled together, giggles erupting from the both of them while they tried to sing too. Inside his room Mateo groaned, roughly placing his pillow over his head to block out the noise.

Vieja Luna began to play and Sofia brought her daughter into an embrace, swaying them back and forth as the song crackled underneath the needle. They let go of one another, Sofia turning to the potatoes she was cooking on the stove as Irene moved to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"If there is one thing I miss from Arizona, it's the panadería that was only a block away." The teen said as she took a sip of the warm liquid, feeling it run down her throat. She closed her eyes, reveling in the memories of quick supermarket runs with her mother. Hawkins, surprisingly, had a tiny Mexican mercado downtown. It had what they needed which brought them some comfort. Her mother turned, nodding in agreement as she matched Irene's actions.

"Ah and that sweet old woman who always gave us fresh strawberries every time we went." Her mother reminisced, leaning her small frame against the counter.

"Helena!" Irene recalled abruptly and her mother pointed at her with a bright face.

A comfortable stillness resided between them, the sizzling of food on the stove filled the space. Irene walked into the living room, sifting through her mothers records and picking one which she knew was one of her favorites. The sweet sounds of an opening guitar and the rumble of cymbals permeated the atmosphere before the backing vocals surfaced, soon followed by the enchanting voice of Ralfi Pagan as he sang Make It With You. It was a song that always seemed to play on early weekends when she was a child; her father would take her small hand in his and spin her around the living room.

Mateo ignored his sister as she swayed with a pillow while he trudged into the kitchen, his mother's back was turned toward him as she flipped another pancake. She felt his presence and her ears perked up at the sound of him placing the coffee pot back on the counter.

"Buenos días, mi hijo favorito." She chirped softly, turning to greet him with a smile as she brushed his messy hair away from his eyes. She cupped his cheek with her warm hand and his lips pushed upward. He teetered to the side and her hand fell to his shoulder, squeezing it lightly before her head motioned toward the dining room.

"Set the table for me, will you?" She asked, turning to grab the warm plates of food. He took the three dishes from her, making sure not to drop anything.

Irene had joined him at the table, clinking their silverware down before placing the carton of orange juice that was tucked in her arm on the table. Sofia finally arrived with glasses for them and the three sat together.

The only sound that came from the Vasquez dining room that morning was the clink and scrape of their forks on their porcelain plates. Irene focused in on Ralfi Pagan's muffled voice, barely catching her mother's question. She looked up with wide glazed over eyes, a hmph sound vibrating in their throat as she stuffed her mouth with syrup soaked pancakes.

THE TOWER ━  stranger thingsWhere stories live. Discover now