Elliott in Love

Chapter Six

The next morning was close to a blur which is not unusual after a Hosh Posh. I wish Luka was a blur but he was the most vivid thing about last night. I rolled out of bed to find Kitty under my feet. I pick her up as a peace offering and we walk down the hallway sluggishly to Papi's study. I think Kitty's just as beat as the rest of us but her morning cuddles surpass any lover.

Papi has this huge study with hundreds of most likely at this point thousands of books. When I was little, I would sneak into his study while he was away at work-or at least when I thought he was away. I'd let my eyes follow every self up until my head was completely tilted back-horizontally mimicking the structure of the ceiling.

I would climb the latter and steal the books that I knew the titles to and some that just caught my eye. Though stern, expounding our minds were highly encouraged by Mommy and Papi thus my book thievery was nothing but a testament to their good parenting.

Dr. Ed E. Morales, one of the most prolific African-American historians in America to have expertise in African American and Latino American historical studies and he just so happened to be my main man, my papí. Papi has been a professor at the Claremont Colleges for basically my entire life and is one of the most hardworking, studious men I know.

He always worked a lot when we were growing up but he was present. I mean, he was around enough. Now he does more tutoring and research since his incident but no one is complaining about having him home so much.

He went from lecturing and traveling to tutoring and lecturing to tutoring and consulting to now consulting and research. He hates all the change and adjusting but he says it's good for his patience which he says is minimal and I just find the whole thing ironic.

My feet somehow wander into Papi's study the morning after Hosh Posh in search of a good book for the day. I always take the day off after Hosh to rest and explore and a good book is always necessary for the full recovery. I can smell that Mommy is awake. Her brewing coffee has begun to fill the house, slowly creeping its way into Papi's study.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and I survey my present options. What mood am I in? Adventure? I could always throw myself into the world of Narnia or Middle Earth? Was I feeling lovey? No, I could rummage my own shelves for a Jane Austen or a Bronte sister classic or a mushy contempt YA novel but I won't find that in Papi's library.

Okay E, focus! What about non-fiction? As if, that's like having a painful and unwanted conversation with someone you just met. We just gonna roulette it. I close my eyes and for what Yonnie used to call 'a russian book roulette'. I rock myself onto my tippy-toes and pick the first book my fingers touch.

Ah, I should have known, standing in the middle of the books, that I would find myself with Sense and Sensibility. I wanted Pride and Prejudice but I will respect the decision of the powers that be. Kitty and I mosey out of the library, following the smell of huevos and frying bread.

One day, I want to look like Mommy in the morning. Her wavy curls loose around her shoulders and her face is bare. Our mornings are usually filled with salsa playing in the kitchen and Mommy drums the counter top as if they're bongos and Papi somewhere in the house singing off key.

I quietly slip into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee before I become Mami's dance partner but as I'm pulling down a mug from the cabinet, I'm spun around and I have indeed become what I feared most; my father's resident dance partner.

"Que locura enamorarme-!" Papi sings in my ear. He's pulled me into his chest and we are rapidly swaying before he pulls me out for another spin.

"Papi! Ah-" I'm spun around and pulled in again and I can't help but laugh