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SHE FIDDLES WITH her Guadalupe necklace, her thumb and forefinger holding down the pendant as she slides it back and forth across the golden chain around her neck, until her mother swats at her arm.
Even on the most nondescript Sundays, Yulisa's mother is strict on church manners. When she was twenty, newly married to Yulisa's father, they were able to come to America and earn a living for themselves. It bothers Yulisa that her mother gives God all of the credit for her father's hard work.
Today, however, is an incredibly important Sunday for the Cabreras because Yulisa's oldest brother, Nacho, is leading his first Mass. Ever. So, her mother is even less than pleased that Yulisa came back past midnight last night drunk as a skunk. Like, the stain glass windows aren't doing anything to curb the sparking pain of the sun fueling her headache. The incense makes her want to vomit. That's where she's at right now. But, nothing can take her mother off of her cloud. They're sitting in the first pew, and her mother is so proud that she cried when he put the Host on her tongue and whispered, "El Cuerpo de Cristo."
She is never going to make him pick his own socks up from the living room floor.
Ignacio—Padre Ignacio, Yulisa supposes—is the kind of guy that made everyone cry when they heard he was going into priesthood. All of the girls he knows literally cried. Two of Yulisa's friends cried. Yulisa's family nickname is Vampira because she's the palest in the family and always cold (both physically and in personality); her other older brother, Thiago, is Flaco because he's always been tall and skinny. But Nacho is Principito. Little Prince. Everyone who has ever met Nacho immediately turns to Yulisa and says some iteration of "Lisa! You never told me you had a hot brother!" Like that is her preferred topic of conversation.
But, much to the chagrin of all man-lovers in the surrounding area, in a community like Yulisa's, there wasn't much of a choice for Ignacio's profession. He's made for service—not, like, military, but community service. Ignacio wants to help, and he wants to make a difference. Yulisa thinks he could make a start by picking his socks up off the family room floor.
Growing up in a household like theirs, Holy Orders really was the most obvious choice. But, he didn't go to seminary just because he felt like that was his only choice. Observing her brother, Yulisa gets an uncomfortable feeling in her chest because he truly belongs here. With the congregation. All of the time. He tells the ladies who fight for the front pew to call him Nacho—Señoras, he says, llámame Padre Nacho—and they giggle because he's a young man paying them close attention. He dropped into all of the different R.E. classes the past week to introduce himself to the younger kids. And, he tells jokes in his homilies— especially during his English Masses. Before long, even the Irish Catholic ladies loved him, too. He makes everyone feel like they know him.
