Velvet Ring

Unforgiving Sun

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June 3, 1957

I groan dramatically as I try to cool myself down with Anita's red folding fan, the flimsy lace hardly does anything to relieve me of the humid air. I squirm in my bed, the fuzzy fabric of my knitted blanket feels unbearable against my skin in this heat. Just as I toss the fan onto the floor, Anita twirls into my bedroom with a flourish. She has a bright smile on her face, the puffed skirt of her lavender dress swishes as she walks.

She begins rummaging through my drawers aimlessly, "Nena, voy a recoger- is that my fan?" She points down to the floor, her brow quirked at me. I confess that I almost always take Anita's things without asking her and she gets annoyed with me for it, but she can't stay mad at me for long. We're a lot like blood sisters in that way.

I smile sheepishly and quickly sit up, watching as Anita snatches the fan off the floor, "Can you blame me for taking it? It's the hottest day of summer!" I exclaim, adjusting the straps of my white slip.

Anita rolls her eyes at me and slams the dresser drawer shut, "It's not even 100 degrees out. Get up and get dressed. I'm going out to buy some fabric." Now it's my turn to quirk my brow at her.

"What are you buying more fabric for?" I ask. Anita tilts her head and sighs, as if I should know the reason why.
"You do remember there's going to be a dance in a few weeks, yes?"

I toss myself face down onto the bed again and groan, burying my face in my pillow, "¡No quiero ir! Nardo will make me go with one of his friends and I hate dancing in front of people and it will be so crowded-" Anita forces me to sit up.

"You're young! You should be enjoying your life, not spending it locked away in your room. The only time you ever get out of this apartment is to work. You're going to the dance y eso es definitivo. You'll wear a beautiful dress — thanks to me, of course— and I'll make sure Bernardo picks a friend that is a good dancer to be your date." Anita grins and I know her word is final.

I roll my eyes and get up from my bed, "Está bien. I'll come with you to buy the fabric, just let me get dressed." I walk over to my dresser and grab a blouse and a skirt.

Anita squeals excitedly and runs into the kitchen to grab her coin purse, "Apúrate, I want to go before the morning rush!"

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I always loved going to the market with Anita, even on sweltering days like this. The bustling crowds and constant chatter made me feel at home. When we lived in Puerto Rico, my mother used to take Bernardo and I with her when she went shopping. Bernardo always hated it, the old ladies that worked the stalls would pinch his cheeks and comment on how handsome he was getting. My mother and I laughed at how embarrassed he would get. So now, I appreciate when Anita lets me tag along with her to the market.

Anita tsks softly as she looks through the different rolls of fabric, "I think I will make my dress black..." She mutters to herself.
I turn my head and gasp as I notice a sleek red fabric. Anita huffs a laugh, "Mamita, you know your brother would never let me make you a dress from that fabric."

I pout, "Why does he treat me like I'm still a baby? I'm 18, a grown up! I should be able wear whatever color dress I want." I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

Anita laughs, "Lo siento, Y/N, pero I'm making you a white dress... and if you want people to stop treating you like a baby, then stop pouting like one."