A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea and Tomorrow - Laura Taylor Namey Page 0,75

her constantly. I just… wanted to be like her.”

Flora nods. “My nan moved in with us, too. About a year after my mum was diagnosed. She was there two years until Dad got a caregiver to come help us.”

Orion never told me this. “You were only about eight, right?”

“About. Nan tried to fill the gaps for me and Ri. Did my hair for school and such. But she never had time to make biscuits with me.”

“Caring for your mother was a full-time job, I bet.”

Flora turns her dough with me. “And then some. One of the symptoms of Mum’s disease is constant movement. It was rare for her to just settle and watch a show. She’d walk the house, pacing and pacing. Upstairs, downstairs, picking up items, putting them down. She could never be left alone and only slept after we gave her powerful tablets. So yeah, there was never time.” A sprinkle more of flour. “Mum broke her ankle about a year ago. That’s when Dad realized we couldn’t keep her safe at home anymore.”

“The care facility.” The home Orion wants to bring me to see.

“Yeah.” Her eyes fog. “To go from that constant motion to nothing now. We knew it was coming but…”

“I’m sorry, Flora,” I say, butter and sugar and yeast heavy in the air. “Is your grandmother still… here? Does she know?”

“Yeah, Dad told her this week. And she visits from Manchester a few times a year. But I’ve never really had the time with her like you did with yours.”

The bread is ready to bake. I show Flora how to use a peel to slide the loaves into the oven. For a few moments, we stare into the heated space. What we make will matter to someone who wants to relax in the parlor with a newspaper and cup of tea.

“You could go visit your grandmother?” I suggest. “Take the train sometime and stay a week? Maybe she could teach you some of her favorite recipes.”

“My nan is all right in the kitchen, but not like yours. Not like what you can do. But she’s amazing at knitwear. I have lots of knitted scarves and beanies from her.”

My smile pulls at the image. “You never know, you might be good at knitting too. You could make things for your friends.”

“Maybe I could.” The corner of her mouth quirks. “That gray cardigan of Orion’s you’re always wearing. She made that.”

26

Later, I’m folding laundry when FaceTime pings, the icon window layering over Le Cordon Bleu’s website on my laptop. I’ve watched the promo videos a hundred times now. It’s Mami’s account. When I answer, I meet the tight huddle of my family at our dining room table. Mami’s face is flushed, and she clutches a well-used tissue.

“¿Qué pasó?” I sputter, panic rising. “Who died? Who’s getting divorced? Or is it the panadería? Or is someone in the emergency room?” Was it Javi or Marta or our neighbor Chany or—

“Tranquila, Lilita,” Papi says. “We have such happy, happy news.”

Mami sniffs then says, “We have an early birthday present for you.” As my heart settles she continues. “It’s Family Style. The producer of Family Style contacted us and they are going to feature La Paloma at the end of next month! They got so many customer nominations for us, and another café had to cancel, so we were bumped up. Can you believe this? ¡No puede ser! Years of following this show and we are going to be on it. On TV.”

All settling is gone. My parents’ favorite Food Network show featuring the best of the best of small family eateries and shops? “Oh,” is all I can say. My mind races with my pulse. The opportunity and exposure. The swarm of new customers and revenue and clout. La Paloma is going to be famous!

Pilar says, “We have so much to do to prepare. It’s time to come home. We’ll get your ticket early and you can even be home for your birthday and—”

“No.” Air leaves my lungs along with the single, sharp word. No is my first thought, rogue and restless. New panic drops as England summer hangs behind my open window, dusk toeing over afternoon. I can’t leave yet and how, how am I the same girl who begged for home only weeks ago?

But I am and I can’t. It’s too soon. I need more time with my new friends and I want to see the pastry school and visit London. Flora has come so far and…