Sam’s mom used to fret about her parents and worried that cholesterol was going to clog their arteries. She tried to convert them to better eating habits, but gave up eventually. You can’t win a battle like that with people who buy their cooking oil at Sam’s Club in 5-gallon containers.
Sam’s grandma didn’t die of a heart attack or stroke. She fell and broke her hip. While she was in the hospital, a blood clot hit her heart and she died instantly. Her grandpa was eighty and arthritis was making it difficult for him to get around, so her mom moved him into Sam’s old bedroom. Living with his daughter and son-in-law was a big adjustment for her grandpa. Sam thought the thing he missed most, besides Grandma, was her cooking. About a week after he settled into their house he drove to Sam’s Club and bought a 5-gallon container of cooking oil.
After getting dressed, Sam and Dundee walked over to her parent’s house. As Sam crossed the yard she could see Rosie and Sage, her brother’s Quarter Horse and dad’s Tennessee Walker, grazing in the pasture. Misfit, her mom’s huge black cat, was sprawled out across Rosie’s back soaking up the warm sunshine. Misfit spent her mornings chasing mice in their barn and her afternoons napping on Rosie’s back. Rosie was close to thirty and nothing bothered her much anymore. Not even a twenty pound cat using her back as a mattress.
Sage, her dad’s younger and spirited Tennessee Walker, wasn’t as tolerant of the overweight, arrogant feline as Rosie was. No one knew why, except perhaps Misfit came from a long line of purebred psycho cats, but sometimes she would wait until Sage got close and then jump on his back. All hell would break loose. Somehow Misfit managed to hang on until Sage rolled over on his back and that would send the cat running for cover. Then things would get back to normal until Misfit had another spurt of insanity.
Sam and Dundee bounced through the back door into her parent’s huge kitchen. Sam loved that kitchen. It was the heart of their home. There was an island in the middle, a fireplace on one end and French doors on the other that opened out to a large covered patio. It was cozy in winter and cool in summer. Sam grabbed a cup and was pouring coffee into it when her grandpa came in to fix his breakfast.
“Hi Grandpa,” Sam greeted him.
“Hey, sugar.” He smiled and hugged her.
Sam sat down at the kitchen table and Dundee went in search for Mason.
Sam watched as her grandpa got his oil out and poured several cups in a skillet. He cracked two eggs and turned the burner on high. Oil started popping everywhere. After the eggs were saturated and cooked just right, he slapped them on a plate with toast slathered with margarine and sat down to eat.
He forgot to turn the burner off, so Sam jumped up, moved the pan and shut it off. Spattered grease covered the stove and cabinets. Some of the grease had spilled over and was collecting in the pan under the burner.
“Do you think maybe one inch of oil would be okay to fry those eggs in rather than ten?” Sam asked her grandpa with a smile
He grinned and shook his head. “This is the way I always eat ‘em,” he told her.
Sam’s mom came into the kitchen and groaned. She grabbed the skillet with a pot holder and took it outside to pour out the grease. She came back in and filled her sink with hot sudsy water and put the skillet in it. Then she got out a bottle of degreaser and sprayed down her stove and cabinets.
Sam’s grandpa finished his breakfast and put his plate in the sink. Then he leaned over, kissed his daughter on her cheek and walked back toward the den. Sam’s mom shook her head and laughed.
“He’s going to burn this house down someday if I don’t watch him.”
Sam smiled and nodded her head. “Guess he’s too old to change his ways now. Just keep a close eye on him.”
“Don’t worry. I keep both eyes on him.”
LATER THAT DAY, Sam’s mom called her.
“Come over for dinner,” she said. “Your dad and I are going to make our specialty, Pasta Primavera. If you don’t want that you can have a hamburger with your grandpa and Mason. They won’t eat pasta so I’m going to grill for them.”
“Sure,” Sam said without hesitation. “Do you want me to bring a dessert?”
There was dead silence on the other end of the phone and Sam could visualize the agonized look on her mother’s face. Dessert to Sam was a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream. Dessert to her mom was fresh berries covered with yogurt and granola.
Sam heard her mom sigh. “Okay, bring on the Ben & Jerry’s. We’ll eat the fresh berries tomorrow night.”
Sam disconnected and grinned. She knew her brother would leap with joy when she came through the door with the forbidden fruit of cherries buried in chocolate bits and vanilla ice cream.
Sam spent the afternoon cleaning her house, doing some grocery shopping and going to a yoga class. Then after she washed her truck, her last chore for the day, she and Dundee walked across the yard to her parent’s house.
When Sam walked in the kitchen with her Ben & Jerry’s, her dad was in the kitchen cutting fresh vegetables to sauté in a skillet. Her mom was on the patio grilling hamburgers and talking on the phone at the same time.
Sam put the ice cream in the freezer and poured herself a glass of red wine before she sat down at the kitchen table.
“Who’s Mom talking to?” she asked her dad.
“Cousin Millie. Your grandpa wants to fly to Dallas for a visit in a few weeks and they’re getting everything planned out.”
Cousin Millie was the only daughter of Grandpa’s sister, Susan. Susan lived with Millie and once every year Sam’s grandpa would fly out to see them.
Sam’s mom was chatting on the phone and walking back and forth between the kitchen and patio. Her dad had chopped up the vegetables and turned the burner on under the skillet.
Suddenly Sam heard a big ‘whoosh!’ coming from her dad’s direction. She turned and saw flames all over the stove.
Her dad jumped back and danced around the kitchen looking for something to throw on the fire. Sam ran to cabinets to try and find a fire extinguisher. Dundee flew into the kitchen and barked for help.
Sam’s mom never missed a beat. She continued talking to Millie as she calmly walked over to the cabinet above the stove, pulled out a box of baking soda and threw it on the fire. Then she walked back to the patio and left Sam and her dad looking at each other.
“Grease fire,” Sam’s dad told her. “I think it’s from all the grease that spills over when your grandpa cooks.”
Sam nodded her head. “Makes sense to me. I’ve seen him cook.”
Sam’s mom came back in and hung up the phone. She walked over to the stove and surveyed the mess. Baking soda covered everything.
“It happens all the time,” she told them. “I keep several boxes of baking soda handy. She opened the cabinet and showed them about a dozen boxes.
All three of them stood at the stove looking at their ruined dinner.
“How does a hamburger sound?” Sam’s mom asked.
“Okay by me,” Sam answered.
“Me too,” her dad said.
At that moment Sam’s grandpa poked his head in the kitchen.
“Is dinner ready yet?” he asked.
The next week flew by. Doc and Sam were both busy giving checkups to new foals and calves and gearing up for West Nile immunizations. Colorado was hit hard by the virus so many of their clients were calling early to get boosters for their horses.
Sam was looking forward to the weekend and the Cinco de Mayo celebration at the Ramirez’s. For years she and her family celebrated the Mexican holiday at their house. It was a blast. It was the biggest and baddest block party in the city of Denver. And Sam knew that was true because most of the city of Denver was there.
Jaime and Ana came from Mexico to El Paso when they were in their early twenties and moved to Colorado after Jaime earned his Bachelor’s degree and was offered a job at the community college near Fairview. All eight of their children and families lived in Denver so the place was always packed with people, music, laughter and plenty of Mexican food.
On Saturday evening, the night of the party, Sam helped Isabella decorate their backyard patio with strings of colored lights and set up tables for the food and drinks. Both of them wore festive Mexican dresses and they were getting a head start on the festive part with a few Corona’s while they worked.
Ana, a petite and beautiful Latina came out to the porch to check on their progress. “Where are the chili lights?” she asked Isabella as she went through the boxes of decorations.
“
No se mama.
This is all we found.”
Sam loved it when they talked back and forth between Spanish and English. She had picked up a few words of Spanish from being around them but they were mostly the bad ones. When she was younger she had to be careful because she was really good at spurting them out at the worst possible moment, which caused everyone to go into hysterical laughter and left Sam red with embarrassment. Now that she was older and knew most of the bad Spanish words, she didn’t do that any more.
Jaime came through the back door with several cases of Corona. He was about a foot taller than Ana with a low, booming voice and a fabulous smile. Sam dearly loved them both.
“Where do you want these, Ana?”
Ana pointed to several coolers by the porch. “Put them in the ice chests,
por favor
.”
Isabella and Sam finished the decorating and then ran up to Isabella’s bedroom to check their makeup before the party started.
The evening was cool and pleasant. Gradually friends and family started coming in with food and drinks. A Mariachi band started tuning up and the large patio was turned into a dance floor circled by the bright lights. Tables around the patio were weighted down with tamales, enchiladas, chili verde, frijoles sopia and carnes asada,
Real
Mexican food.
Sam’s mom and dad came in with Mason who made his rounds hugging and giving high five’s to all of the Ramirez family.
“
Chulo,
” said Ana when Mason gave her a big hug. “Handsome boy and my sweetheart.”
“
Ahooah,
” shouted Jaime when he saw Mason, who answered him with the same cry and added “
Viva La Raza! Chicano power!
” as he pumped his fist in the air. Everyone laughed and cheered.
The party had begun. The Mariachi’s played catchy tunes while couples did the Salsa, Cha-Cha, Meringue, and Mambo. Everyone was jammin’.
Sometime in the early evening Sam saw Max arrive with two bouquets of bright flowers, which he handed to Ana and Isabella. He plucked one large flower from a bouquet and placed it above Isabella’s ear.
Oooh, someone got invited to the party, and I wonder by whom, Sam thought to herself.
“Now we’re ready to Salsa, “
Senor doctor!
” Isabella exclaimed and pulled him onto the dance floor. It was fun to watch the talented Isabella dance circles around Max, who obviously had never done a Salsa before in his life.
Sam sat by her brother and Angelo at a table close to the dance floor so they could see all the action.
“Can I have a Margarita?” asked Mason, pointing to Sam’s drink.
“I don’t know, big guy. Mom may not approve since you’re not 21 yet,” Sam poured some Margarita mix into a glass with ice. “Maybe just a virgin Margarita for now.”
Angelo grinned and handed Mason his Margarita. “You can take a sip of mine. We won’t tell your mom.”
“Why not?” Mason asked.
Sam and Angelo laughed. Mason never kept any secrets from Mom so she would know if anyone slipped him a “real” Margarita.
“Never mind,” said Angelo. “Drink the one your sister gave you.”
Ana called to Sam. “
Chica!
I forgot the guacamole in the fridge. Could you bring it out for me?”
“
No problemo,
” Sam answered and headed for the kitchen.
Sam did her version of the Salsa as she danced her way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to get the dip. The band started playing “Tequila” and she was wagging her butt to the rhythm of the music as she leaned over and put her head in the fridge. She grabbed the bowl and turned around to shout “Tequila!” with the rest of the backyard crowd and that’s when she saw Cheyenne leaning against the kitchen door quietly watching her.
“Do you need any help with that?” he asked.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see what a good dancer you are,” he said and took the bowl from Sam. “At least from my angle.”
Oh, boy, Sam thought. I feel a rash coming on.
Cheyenne took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. He placed the bowl of dip on a table and immediately pulled Sam to the dance floor.
“So, which mom invited you tonight, mine or Isabella’s?” Sam asked.
Cheyenne smiled. “Ana invited me. I think there’s a conspiracy going on with your mothers. Which leads me to a question, why didn’t you invite me?”