Corrina+Rochr+Cross

\@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }span.yshortcuts { }p.paragraph, li.paragraph, div.paragraph { margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; font-size: 10pt; font-family: Times; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } Matias – German lover

Carmela- Main character

Anthony- American lover

Elisa- Carolina’s mother

Ignacio -Carolina’s father (deceased)

Elisa Melanie

Luis- The cute guy down the street who Carmela’s parents want her to date

Alvaro- Carmela’s brother

Mariana-

Carmela! A little emotion please! I give you this choreography,

1) Dance with emotion

2) Dance with pride

3) Dance with passion

4) Don’t take responsibility for being honest

Carmela! I give you this beautiful choreography and this is how you repay me? Don’t look at the wall; look up, at the sky! Aye, you know Carmela, I tell you all the time, you have a lot of quality, but you need to dance first with your head and then with your heart! Ok, again from the top! Carlotta, pay attention to the timing this time!

Carmela never knew how she did it, 67 and still shouting out every imperfection, like a strict mother with a group of rowdy children. Edelisa, was a bitter old woman at the age of 67. She had toned and muscular calves, but from there up she was plump and well rounded. She wore various traditional skirts that a woman who lived at the tip of Tarifa had hand sewn to fit her large waist. Today’s skirt was one of her more playful ones, hot pink with ruffles and sprinkled with violet and orange wild flowers and complimented with dark blue stitching. She was a true gypsy woman with her long black, oily hair always out or tied lazily in a bun. The dance was in her blood in spirit. Like a true flamenquera, she never settled for a man. In her younger days when she was thin, curvy, and plump in all the right places, Edelisa was known to for her short passionate romances with countless men. Although she experiences many, no man could match her rhythm and so Edelisa grew old and remained a fierce and single woman. After years of studying with her, Carmela had heard many rumors of Edelisa’s escapades over the years. She started off as a toddler by her father’s side, going from place to place street performing with a guitarist, her Uncle Nino. She had very little schooling in academics, but when it came to dance she knew more than most. As she grew in to a beautiful young woman, Carmela had to do everything she could to support herself and her aging father; and that was to dance. She went from the streets, to the restaurants, to the stages, where people begged to see her dance, opposed to her begging them for spare change. Her life was perfect, or so she thought. Edelisa was in her prime for dancing, the perfect age, the perfect size, the perfect dancer for the part. Everyone thought so, including the singer whose intense passion when he performed with her grew even stronger when they were of stage. His name was Isaac, tall and muscular with black hair to his neck, it was said that he was the only man she ever loved. However, the manager of their performances, Juan Carlos, claimed that he would never stand for such things as romances among his performers; of course everyone knew this new rule was only acquired because he himself believed he was in love with Edelisa. This fact did not interest the young woman by the least, because her heart filled with exhilaration each night when she would come off stage to her dressing room and find Isaac. Every second they shared alone, their passionate love grew stronger and stronger. Of course until the day Edelisa realized that her skirts and dresses had become too tight. No matter how tight she pulled, her old costumes could not seem to fit the pounds that were being added to her stomach. After a month exactly, the doctor told her she was expecting. The night was after their last big show in Sevilla, Edelisa performed beautifully and after Isaac and her skipped the after party and went straight to his small apartment. There, the couple melted away from the face of the earth, lost in each other’s embrace, they gave in completely to the love they felt for each other. The tears came to her eyes as she realized the truth of the situation; no one would pay to see a pregnant dancer perform. A baby would keep her out of the business for at least two years, and after that she would be old, taking care of a baby, and left with thick thighs and a fat stomach. She ran to Isaac’s apartment, her face still running with tears, and between sobs told him she was pregnant. He held her, as he was supposed, told her everything would be ok, as he was supposed to, but four months in the expecting father became consumed by frustration and fear. When the manager of the company discovered Edelisa’s news, he fired Isaac without any reason or explanation. He simply invited him to a bar for drinks, and when he was drunk enough told Isaac that there was no need for an immature boy in their company. Isaac enraged and broke, took a train back to Madrid with his family. She never knew his reasons, and she never got one last kiss good bye, all she got was a letter under door that read:

// Mi amor, our love was great and truly unforgettable. But, you see I can’t be a father. It was stupid of us to fall in love so fast. I need some time in Madrid, I hope you understand. I can’t be a father, it’s not my place. I’ve run out of excuses, and so I’m running away. Good luck, I will never forget you. //

// -Isaac //

Edelisa was heartbroken, her father was dead and she had no one. The pain led her to an abortion, she couldn’t resist giving birth to something that would only remind her of the only reason she was suffering most. The pain was overbearing, and the easiest way to get rid of it was to forget about it. A week after the abortion she returned to the company, and sternly met with Juan Carlos and demanded her place as a dancer back again. Her newly acquired cold and quiet attitude impede d the other performers to question her 4-month leave of absence. Secretly they all knew the truth, or variations of it. Some heard that Juan Carlos had murdered Isaac out of jealousy for being with the woman he was infatuated with. And others, simply knew he was abandoned the poor woman. She had changed. She remained forever quiet and cold, until the day she grew too fat and old to perform, so she taught. Secretly she was jealous of the lively thin women she taught daily and would and at random times would overwhelm them with complaints and shouting. But in the end she taught them well, and how to be dancers. Her students would call her a bitch behind her back, but in the end were proud to be studying with the great Edelisa Guanera.

Nonetheless, she lived on it. True, her dance had lost some of its passion, but she figured that with age things like “passion” were supposed to naturally fizz away in to oblivion. That as life became more serious, her flirtatious and imaginative self would be something of the pat. Carmela was more of a realist; she looked at situations practically, and always made sensible decisions, opposed to making those that would make her the happiest.

When Carmela had begun studying with Edelisa,, about five years ago, she was a tenth grader at her high school and busy working at her mother’s restaurant. She had studied the art of flamenco since she was a young girl, but had become more serious as she got older. Her life, she thought, was perfect, but lacking something, some sort of excitement. Carmella found her routine life to be dreary and boring. She woke up at the same time every week, worked at the restaurant five days a week in the afternoon and attended dance classes at night. The restaurant was located on the boardwalk by the beach. It had brown benches in the front of two big dark blue doors that stood out in front of the all white walls. Inside, the floors were wooden with wooden tables and chairs, with the soft flow of candlelight at night or the bright.

Working at her restaurant was where Carmella first met Hans. She was a senior in High school and he was in his early twenties. He had graduated with honors from his high school and decided to spend his first year of freedom abroad in Spain to become fluent in Spanish and possibly reconnect with his father who had left his mother before he could remember his father even being around. His quest, however, was close to impossible without the direction and language skills from Carmella. Hans had rented a cheap apartment in the central of (wherever they are), and could barely afford that and food until he saw the "Help Wanted" sign in front of (restaurant name). Not many had applied for the job, so when Hans, who was taller and stronger than Carmella's father entered the restaurant asking for a job, Carmella's father got a look of disgust on his face and shooed the man out.

"Ignacio!! Look that poor young boy! He's probably here, without a family and looking for a future! Give him a job" She shouted from the kitchen

"Aye, Elisa, you expect me to give some god damn foreigner a job? This is Spain for god’s sake! Let's employ our people, not the German, or the Swiss, or wherever the hell that kid was from. I mean we are a Spanish country and we have god damn American running every operation on our government and every restaurant on this street. I'm sick of them!"

"Ignacio, you're full of shit. We don't have a single strong waitress here, and you know you can't do the heavy lifting with your back problems. We need a boy like him"

"I'll see what I can do, ok? ok? You happy? I do whatever you want Elisa!"

"Ignacio, it's not what I want that matters, it's doing the right thing that matter"

"In other words, do what you want"

"Well, as long as you do it amor" She said, wittily laughing

He Got up from the wooden chair, and walked in to the kitchen and came behind Elisa, who was chopping vegetables to make ( some sort of food). He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, and began caressing her cheek with kisses.

"Ignacio! stop it! I smell like onions!" She teased, and giggled as his soft kissed tickled parts of her ear.

"And?" He continued and now they embraced each other.

"Mama! papa! This is a classy restaurant for gods sake!" shouted Elisa as she had just dashed into the kitchen to tell her mother she had arrived on time this time.

"And?" Her father said with a smile, "We are classy people"

Elisa laughed, walked in to the kitchen and began cutting vegetables by her mother's side. For the next few hours, they chopped, cooked, fried, boiled, and baked until there was enough food to feed the crowded restaurant on a Friday night.

"Elisaaa!!!!" Her father shouted, and she came running to the kitchen.

"Elisa, there is a crowd of American waiting to be seated. It's a very big job, but you’re the only one who can speak English, ok?"

"I'm on it Papi!"

Elisa loved when these situations came up, she was a very serious English student in class and was proud when all her hard work and skill could come to use.

"Hi, I'm Elisa, I'll be waiting on you tonight" she said as she poured lemon ice water in to each glass by the side of every young American at the table.

"So, what can I get you?" she said after putting the water pitcher down on the table.

There were probably 12 of them, they ordered and Elisa was sent back to the kitchen. A half an hour later, Elisa returned with plates of food and noticed that new person had joined their party of 12. She couldn't help but notice every detail about his physical appearance, since he stood out among the other Americans. He was dressed in normal clothes first of all, instead of the eccentric, loose, hippie traveling clothes the Americans were wearing. Hans was the look of perfection, he has bright blue eyes and blond hair. His shoulders were sturdy and he had a genuine smile of happiness and excitement as he dec

He traveled to Spain with barely any money and was going more and more broke as he paid rent for his small apartment in the central and food. Every other morning Hans would wake up at eight and stroll through the beach town looking for various cheep restaurants and stores where he would find small nick knacks indigenous to Spain. ( examples of nick knacks). One morning he passed by the restaurant's deep blue doors and was immediately caught by the white piece of paper taped to the door that read, "Se necsesita ayuda". He had minimal knowledge of Spanish but the format of the sign and the word "ayuda" led him to believe that this could potentially be the end to his money problems, or lack of money problems

Ignacio, Carmella's father was sitting by at one of the restaurant's wooden tables calculating their earnings for the week. In his thick German accented spanglish Hans approached Ignacio.

"Hola, I, yo, I look for trabajo?. Me llamo Hans", he said as he approached Ignacio to shake his hand.

But, Ignacio got a smug look on his face and shooed his handshake away. Hans was tall, most likely taller than Ignacio, and Ignacio had no desire to communicate with a stranger who wanted something from him and couldn't even speak his own language.

"No, No, ya encotramos otra persona. Esta bien pero Gracias."

"//No, No, we found someone else. It's fine, but thankyou"//

Hans was clueless to what the old man had said, but knew by his tone that he was not wanted.

"Ok, gracias!", He managed to smile and wave good bye to the man before exiting the restaurant and putting his search for a cheap plate of pancakes for breakfast back on track.

"Ignacio!" Shouted his wife, Elisa, as she stormed from the kitchen, one hand on her him and the other waving a knife around in front of her. "Ignacio, we need work, and the first person who comes in asking for a job, you don't even say hello to?"

"Ayee, Elisa! My love," He began to say with a begging tone and an innocent face.

"Ignacio!" she said with a serious tone, to imply that now was not the time for excuses.

"Elisa, you really expect me to hire some foreign kid of the streets, who dresses like a bum, and can't even speak Spanish! My god, I mean every government operation and every restaurant in this god damn country is run by some ignorant American! But oh no, not me, I'm a Spaniard, heart and soul." He said triumphantly as he slammed his fist in to the table.

"your full of shit and you know it!" She said with an arrogant look on her face as she stepped back in to the kitchen to prove that she had made her point and the conversation was over.

"Ok, so I’ll do what you want. I'll hire that snobby Gringo, will that make you happy?"

She now spoke to him through the small window in the kitchen where the waiters and waitresses would place their written down orders.

"Ignacio, we need someone who can do heavy lifting, and God knows that nearly impossible for you with your back in such bad condition. Plus, any man with any culture and any language has the ability to lift heavy crates of food and move the tables, and you know other odd jobs."

"So basically do what you tell me, right?" He said cockily.

"No Ignacio, do what's sensible!"

"In other words, what you want me to do" he said with the same arrogant smile.

"Well if that's how you look at it then yes, do what I want"

"aye, this woman, what am I going to do with you?"

He stood up and walked to the kitchen where Elisa was busy chopping vegetables for the night's meals. He came up from behind her and hugged her waist as he began to caress her right cheek with kisses.

"Ignacio, not now, I smell like onions!" She said with a smile.

"And?" He said as he continued to kiss her. The soft kisses tickled her ear, as she became filled with giggles.

"Ignacio!" She said, enthralled with glee.

They turned and embraced each other.

"Mami! I'm here"

Came Carmella's shout from the front door of the restaurant. She rushed to the kitchen and rolled her eyes at her parents flirtatious manner.

"Mami, don't we have to cook for like a thousand people tonight?" She said with a tone that her mother often took on when she wanted Carmella to change her focus.

Her mother left Ignacio's embrace and said with a cheery smile, "We sure do! Tonight's going to be busy as hell, so be prepared! I don't want any complaining tonight! Carmella grab those cutting boards hun, you on onions."

So the two began chopping away in their matching flowered aprons until there was enough onions, garlic, tomatoes, spinach, mushrooms, and spices to create at least ten of each dish essential to the menu.

The night grew dark and the white candles on each maroon tablecloth were lit as more and more people came pouring in. The people varied from large Spanish families with crying babies, to old couples, to large tourist groups with people from all over the world. Carmella stood leaning on the front counter examining each and every person at the restaurant, until her mother's screech came from the kitchen.

"Carmelllaaaa!!! You better stop resting and start waiting on those tables! You know how short we are on staff!"

She rolled her eyes, and said "Yes mami, I know, I'm on it don't worry. God".

"Carmella, I don't need it, now is not the time for a fight we have to get this restaurant running."

Her father stood by the desk for reservations with his hands on his hips and a worried expression as he rubbed sweat off of his forehead. Carmella was in the middle of filling a pitcher of water, when her father called her name and motioned her to come over to where he was with his finger.

"Carmella" he said, "See that table over there?"

She glanced and saw a table of about 12 white people, all of them dressed in the typical back packer hippie apparel from the dread locks to the handmade jewelry to the leather sandals and loose fitted shirts and pants.

"Well, most of them don't speak a word of Spanish, do u mind?" He continued.

"Of course not Papi!"

Carmella was overwhelmed with excitement, she was a very studious English student and thrilled by every chance she was able to put her skill to use. Plus, it was very rare that she was given the responsibility of waiting on a table with so many people. As she walked away, her father called, "And Carmella, if you can handle this, I might have you be waiting on tables instead of passing out pitchers of water. That means more tips". She smiled at him and picked up a pad of paper and pen to take the orders of the starving tourists.

"Hi, I'm Carmella and I'll be waiting on you tonight. Can I start you off with any drinks?"

She took their drink orders of red wine, soda, and "I'll just have water for now", and walked off to fill a tray with glasses. In the mean an a new person arrived at the restaurant, searched for people he knew, until he noticed the table of tourists calling his name and he went over gave a few hugs and pulled a chair from a vacant table up to their table. From afar, while pouring glasses of (brand name) red wine, she was instantly entranced by the blonde beauty who was so casually and enthusiastically integrating every person at the table with his broad smile and loud voice. He stood out among the others at his table, since his hair was short and well kept. Plus we was dressed quite casually, but nicely with a name brand shirt and baggy kaki shorts. Carmella always felt self conscience when she had to interact with boys she had crushes, or who she was minorly attracted to, but like her teacher has said the other day on one of her deep ten minute long speeches, "My children, I tell you to dance with feeling, but trust me it’s not showing what you truly feel, sometimes its just showing what you want the other person to think you feel. Like, do you want your ex who cheated on you a week ago to think your hurt and desperate to have him back? Or do you want him to think your ready to ring his thrown and bury him alive?" She said with a sick cackle. In short, and in light of this innovative metaphor, Carmella took her teacher's advice to mean that even when she was scared as hell in any situation, she had the power to make herself seem like the confidant young women who she wanted to be seen as.

Carmella walked slowly with a platter of glasses and stood by Hans as she matched each guest with their drink.

"Anything for you sir"

"eh, si, eh, yes, water? With the bubbles please?"

She had to keep herself from laughing at his ridiculously thick German accent.

"seltzer?" She questioned.

"Yes" he nodded, "Please". He looked up at him as she wrote down his order. "Your name?".

Carmella was taken aback by the question and stood for a second with her mouth open. "Oh my name?" She said pointing to herself. She felt ridiculous, as if she had made a fool of herself questioning his question. Her thoughts where overwhelming her, but her thick Latin lips spread in to a smile, and she offered her hand out.

"Carmella, and yours?"

She could barely hear him so she leaned in close so that his lips could come centimeters away from her ear as he told her her name. She backed away and out of the handshake, with a smile plastered on her face she became entranced by his Caribbean sea blue eyes told him it was nice to meet him before realizing how nonprofessional she was being. She panicked to see if her father or mother had noticed her socializing with Hans, and when she saw they were busy she turned her back to her new friend and took the dinner orders of all 12 of the rowdy tourists.

By the time she returned with the dinner plates, more than half of table was buzzed on multiple glasses of red wine and empty stomachs. She served everyone efficiently with a few mix-ups, but she purposefully saved Hans's dish for last. They share a smile as she stretched her arm to place his plate in front of him.

"Eh, Carmela, how often do you work here?"

"Oh, I have a lot of tables" She said, trying to prevent herself from getting distracted from her responsibilities by his eager eyes and innocent perfect face.

"Oh I see, it's ok, I don't want to distract you"

She nodded and walked off to see if there were any other tables to be waited on. Minutes later, her father stopped in her in tracks on the way to fill a pitcher of water.

"Carmela, one of the tourists wants lemons in his water"

"Ok papi"

She immediately pictured Hans's face, but then pushed the thought out of her head because she didn't want to jump to conclusions and she also didn't want to be over thinking her brief flirtatious interaction with a perfect stranger. However, the second she turned her back with the plate of lemons, she saw Hans already on her with his hand beckoning her to his table. She went along with it and placed the lemons in front of him.

"Gracias Carmella". Her name sounded odd, but beautiful with his obscure German Spanish accent.

"No problema (no problem)" She said as a look of confusion came on his face. When he realized she was speaking Spanish he said, "Oh I don't speak Spanish, well not yet. I'm working on it"

"Don't worry, we get tourists all the time!"

"Oh, I'm not a tourist, well I am, but I live nearby"

"You do? You should come here more often, We have the best (breakfast item) there is." Her father's voice calling her name grabbed her attention and out of the bubble of attraction between her and Hans. She waved as she hurriedly speed walked to the kitchen where she had heard her father's voice. The rest of the night, Carmella was busied by bringing out last minute desserts and wiping down tables. The tourists, including Hans had left and she went over to clear their table disappointed and filled with regret in thinking that she was going to be able to talk to Hans more as the night progressed. She now felt a huge weight of failure on her shoulders as she placed his glass, plate, and empty dish of lemons on her tray. She decided right then to push the image of Hans's face of perfection out of her mind because she assumed and knew that it was sensible that never again would she see him. But, as much as she tried convincing herself of this, Hans's face was the last thing she pictured before she closed her eyes and dozed of to sleep.

Carmella felt blessed that she was able to sleep in, especially after such a long night of cooking and cleaning, she was exhausted beyond all means. She dressed in a light blue sundress that reached her knees and comfortable sandals. She grabbed her dance bag before running down the stairs to walk toward her parent's restaurant. The restaurant had very few people in the morning. She stopped in her tracks, when from far away she could see a blond headed man with his eyes concentrated on a book. She continued walking, with an exaggerated swing in her hips and her gaze focused directly in front of her so that when her name was called, she turned around with an expression of dismal surprise.

"Carmela, I didn't think to see you this morning"

"Hans, it is Hans right?" he nodded. "Well, good morning to you too"

"Its a lovely day, is it not? The beach breeze here is so relaxing in the morning"

"Yea it is, I never really noticed it, but now that you mention it. Well I have to go in, Enjoy your breakfast"

"Yes, I will, how can't I? The food, here is phenomenal. I know I'm German, but I swear this is the best (breakfast name) in Spain. I hope to see you".

Once again, she was taken aback by his bold statement, especially since they had only shared minimal conversation and were now acting as neighborhood friends. Nonetheless, she was tempted to continue talking, but she walked on in to the cool darkness of the indoor part of the restaurant. She walked up to her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

"Mami, I'm of to class, can I get a juice?"

"Of course precious. Be home later? We might need your help"

Carmella was beginning to feel annoyed and overwhelmed by her parents constant need for her help in the restaurant, but she decided to avoid a fight and simply nodded and walked off to class.

"Leaving so soon?", a voice called as she left hurriedly from the restaurant.

"Yes, I'm in a rush!"

"Ok", his response came faintly, as now Carmella was strides away from where the young man was sitting. While sitting on the bus on he way to class, Carmella finally had the time to ponder her interactions with her new found friend. She came to the conclusion that he was either a friendly foreigner desperate for friends, overly flirtatious, or that there was the slim chance that he was just attracted to her, and that it was more than just a friendly attraction. She decided not to over think the situation and, but instead focus on her class and trying to get Senora Edelisa to not yell at her today.

As she rushed to the front door of the studio, something to left caught her eye. Hidden behind the street cart of fried (something), rushing cars and pedestrians was Margdalena kissing some boy who was leaning against her. Carmlella couldn’t tell much about the boy from where she was standing except that he was fairly average looking, black hair, in jeans a t-shirt, and black Pumas. He, she could car less about, but Margdalena had a novio! There had been rumors about the girls promesquity, but from what she had just seen, Carmella was not surprised one bit by the graphic stories the other dancers gossiped about her sleeping around with every tall, dark, and handsome boy in her grade. Carmella would simply die before she was caught in public kissing a boy! She came from a small town where people talked, and if her parents heard about her being with any man except for Luis, who’s father owned the zapateria, then she might as well not be living.

Luis was a childhood friend of Carmella’s, and since birth he was the one who Luis and Camella’s mothers had agreed to an arranged marriage. The arrangement was nothing serious of course, but would always be joked about when they were younger and invariably came up whenever Carmella mentioned anything about novios and relationships among her friends and other people in their town. Carmella and Luis’s mothers had kept the marriage of their children as a secret ploy so that they could then be in laws and part of the same family; this was until Luis’s mother died from heart cancer a few years back. The incident truly strained Luis’s constant cheerful manner. Carmella knew it was a dark time in his life and began to ask fewer questions to him as his sadness created a large hole in their friendship, one that couldn’t and hadn’t been mended since then.

Carmella rolled her eyes partly to pretend that she disagreed with Magdalena’s rebelious pudblic display of affection, but secretly there was a sharp pang of jelousey in her, because while Magdalena gave out kisses like Carmella gave out please and thankyou’s, Carmella had never even once gotten close to a kiss. It sometimes bothered her, when in class especially, Edelisa would tell her many tales of love and asked them to dance like they had just fallen in love with the man of their dreams. Carmella would get lost in these thoughts sometimes, but that dreamy black haired figure could kiss well, but didn’t have a face, or a name, or parents, or a life, or real arms to embrace her, and hold her in every moment of doubt. So, in the meant time, Carmella faked that she had been in a real relationship, or ever felt some sort of sentiment toward any of the boys around her. However, apparently this was one of Carmella's skills, since her teacher would constantly critisize her for dancing with her heart before her head. Carmella arrived in class, 15 minutes early. She stretched her legs, slipped on her black ruffled skirt that was fitted up until her knees, where it flared out, and buckled her shoes. Her hair was whipped in to a tight bun, and her tank top was fitted under the skirt, which was tight around her waist. She was not particularly vain, but completely aware that her body appeared curvy and sensuous in the fitted costume that exaggerated her chest and hips. She felt like a young woman, and although she was one of the youngest in the class, she felt that her matured body had allowed her to fit in more and relate to the other women in the class. She hadn't become close friends with any of the other dancers, but felt accepted in the class just the same. Edelisa's piercing clap sparked all of the stretching dancers to fasten their shoots, rush to get castanets, and stand in perfectly assigned and organized lines behind their teacher.

The strumming of the guitars and claps form Edelisa formed the perfect rhythm for the women to work their footwork in counts of twelve. The dance they were working on, was more of an act mixed in with a dance. Each step and expression matched the tone and lyrics of the old man, Pedro who sang beside his son, Pablito, who strummed the guitar. The song told the story of two lovers, strewn apart. The woman, was done, and wanted nothing more of the man, but he begged and begged to revive and have faith and determination in the love he wanted to pursue and eventually marry her, because she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Love, it was a common them among the flamenco songs Pedro usually sang; flamenco dancers were known to be passionate lovers. They acted on their whims and jumped quickly to say those words, "I love you". Their romances were quick and tragically ended, but overflowing with lust and physical attraction. These, however, were just the stereotypes Carmella pretended to fit as she moved he hips in quick motions and twirled her hands with such grace that she seemed like some sort of untouchable lover that anyone watching longed to be with. The thought of every man wanting to be with her solely based on her dancing, was a thought that motivated her saucy attitude and priceless expressions while she danced. Like her mood swings, her facial expressions and body language changed instantaneously and unexpectedly as each music note from the guitar triggered different emotions in her heart and in the soles of her feet.

The Singer, Pedro, sang with such passion and grief, his faced tied in a knot that might have seemed disturbing to a foreigner, but to someone with flamenco in their spirit, it was a face of disgust, sometimes, happiness, grief, and frustration, but always with some form of intense emotion. //Tu roneas por que vales//

//Tu eres la piedra más chica de la acera de mi calle//

//La que quiera madroño vaya a la sierra//

//Ay olé morena vaya a la sierra//

//Porque se esta secando su madroñera//

//Ay olé morena su madroñera//

//Ay mama, mama no quiero eso//

//Ay mama, mama no quiero nada//

//Ay quiero que vengas a verme//

//De tu propia voluntad//

//Ponte guapa Mariquilla//

//Te voy a llevar esta tarde a la feria de Sevilla//

//Gitana si me quisieras, ay Gitanita si tu quisieras//

//Te compraría en Granada la mejor cueva que hubiera//

After hours of intense dancing, recognizing rhythems, and enduring the wrath of Edelisa after being pissed of that the dancers couldn't coordinate with each other, Carmella walked home, practically dragging her body on the pavement with fatigue and sweat. On her way home she got a phone call, "Hola?" "Carmella we need you here at the restaurant!" said her father in a desperate, pleading voice. "Papi, I'm tired, can I go home and change at least?" "Carmella, don't worry about your clothes, I'll see you soon" "fine" she responded with and exagerated sigh. One of the things she hated the most about her father was that he never bothered to get more waiters and waitresses and relied on her, a student and diligent dancer, to be available at all times to help wait on tables and take tips in dollars from American tourists. On the other hand, however, there was nothing she could do. She could have rebelled against her aging father, but there didn't seem to be a point since it would only cause a division of angst within her family. Minutes after elongating her trip to the restaurant, Carmella arrived, entered and threw on her black apron. Her father didn't even great her or ask how her day was, which was a routine whenever she came back from being out. He simply pointed to a table filled with people as he rushed off to the kitchen. She knew the routine, she walked over to the table and forced the typical flirty waitress smile she had been practicing ever since she could write down someone's order and carry a pitcher of water. Right, the water! She had left the table for a number of minutes now and had forgotten to get them all glasses of water. She rushed to the small table to the right of the kitchen, stopped in her tracks, and stared for a few seconds at the back of a strong blond man percisely pouring eight glasses of water and balancing them on a tray. Was this even possible? She was shocked and secretly delightfully pleased that Papi had hired a foreigner, and not just any foreigner, but the young German man who in their five minute long interactions made her feel that she was capable of capturing someone's attention with her smile and cheerful smalltalk. She stood frozen and when he turned around with the heavy tray. His face immidietly regained the overbearing smile that he had on the other night as he drank wine and dined with strangers he had previously met that day. He balanced the tray with one hand as he also tried to wave before passing her. Carmella could see that he struggled to do so, and within seconds the tray came crashing to the ground. The sound gained minimul attention from the guests, but she knew that within seconds Papi would be furious coming around the corner. There was he was, towering above the two as the they began the process of gathering all of the large pieces of glass from the floor. She grabbed Hans's shoulder just before he was about to speak. She got his attention and tried to send a message with her glaring eyes that said, "Shut up or you'll lose this job" "Papi it was me, I'm sorry, I was just in such a rush and." "Aye, Mi hija, it's ok, really. I know your exhausted and this was last minute. Just clean it up and continue working" He said with a wave of his hand as he walked back over to the podium where he awaited people who needed to be seated. "Eh thankyou, really" Said Hans, some what nervous from the whole incident. "No problem really, sorry it happened to you" "Don't worry, but um, he's your father?" "Yea my parents own the restaurant" "Oh, I had no idea" He said, followed by a nervous laugh. It was difficult for them to have a decent conversation since the sounds of chopping and frying from the kitchen and chatty guests overflowed the restaurant with different sounds that turned talking to shouting. They cleaned up the mess, and both hurried off to complete their duties before her father would had to deal with complaints from people about waiting more then 15 minutes for their food, drinks, pepper, lemon, ketchup, checks, bills, change, and the list goes on and on. So the night went on and the restaurant seemed endless with custoumers. Carmellas remained busy and stressed the whole night and was relieved when her father agreed to send her home early without having to clean up after the restuarant. "Ignacio, tell that girl to get back here!" Her mother indignantly clamored from her kitchen window Ignacio turned abruptly, wide eyed and called for Carmella to come back in. "Mama, what, Papa said I could go home" she said with a slight whine. "I know what your father said, but you can't walk the streets at this hour!" She said, and made a face of complete surprise that her own daughter and husband were about to think that a young pretty girl walking the streets at 11 was no risk for harm, potential kidnappings, mishaps, robberies, and the list of possible things that threatened her daughter's safety filled her subconscience with fear and her attacking mother instincts that would take to all lengths in order to protect her daughter. Carmella, then stood in the door way, not sure what to do with herself since she so desperately wanted to plop her tired body in bed instead of forcing her eyes open to clean up the tables and dishes. Suddenly Hans stepped through the closet door where they kept their brooms, mops, and other cleaning supplies. "I, eh, can walk with her. At least she will have a friend", he then looked at Carmella in hopes that she would translate. "Mama, el dije que el me puethe caminar a casa, que vive cerca a nosotros, por favor mama, tengo un examen manana, no puetho estar cansada". //Mami, he says that he can walk me to my house, he lives near us. Please mom! I have a test tomorrow and I can't be tired., she pleaded.// Her mom secretly wanted th'e solidarity with her father, and also to allow her tired daughter the independence to walk home with a coworker. She eyed Ignacio for his approval, and when she got the message said, "Ok, that's fine. Call me when you get home ok?" "I will mami", she replied. Her mother sighed and washed the dishes in silence as she walked Hans gather his possessions. She walked over to Ignacio and quietly whispered close to his ear, "Ignacio, I don't feel right about this, I'll walk her home and be back to help you close up" "Yes of course, do whats right, I still don't trust that damn foreigner". Mariana slipped on her heels. "Carmella, I'm in the mood for a walk" Carmella, figured if she had been in a more awake mood that this news would have been disapointing since he mother's presence was going to interrupt a few more conversations that could have been held between her and Hans, but instead she was relieved because Carmella was not in the mood for Hans's energetic small talk starters. So, the three ventured out while Ignacio remained at the restaurant wiping down tables. They made small talk about the nights customers and after a minute reached a turn which Hans said he had to take to his house. They kissed each other on the cheek goodbye and waved goodbye. "He's nice" Carmella said "Well in your father's opinion, he's nice, but for a German" They both laughed at Ignacio's ridiculous ignorance and continued walking side by side back to the restaurant, casting shadows on the sidewalk when they passed underneath street lights. Carmella and her mother had a special bond, one Ignacio never understand, one that no one could ever understand. "Ignacio!", Elisa screamed, seconds after entering the restaurant doors. She found her husband lying on the ground, struggling to stand. He was sorounded by fallen chairs, one of them broken, and a few dishes that had been on one of the tables had fallend to the floor in pieces. Carmella remained at the doors in shock as she watched her mother sprint toward his side. "Papa", Carmella chocked, practically in tears. She had never seen her father like this and instantanously thought he had fallen for a health reason, possibly a heart attack. "Ignacio, what, what happened", Said Elisa, she now held his head in her lap. She saw that his face had a large red mark slightly below his eye, and more on his cheek bone. Some blood ran from his nose. Carmella came closer, and saw her wounded father, weak and hut, unable to stand up. Suddenly though, he seemed filled with frustration and his eyes watered. "those fucking tourists" He shook his head in angst. "Those fucking Americans robbed us". "Carmella go get some ice and a wet cloth", Said her mother. She left, uneasy, and confused. She passed by the register and saw that it had been forced open. Parts of the plastic buttons were scattered on the floor, and the tray of money was open, except there wasn't any money in it, just a few coins stayed. When she came back her father was in a chair, his arm held up his hurt head. She offered the ice and cloth to her mother, who began to pat his face, and clean the blood away from his nose. Carmella refused to ask any questions, she could tell that her father was in a vulnerable state. He was hurt and she was scarred. Her exhaustion seemed like nothing now, and she felt guilty for acting like a small child and being the cause of leaving her father alone to care for the restaurant. If it hadn't been for her, her father wouldn't have been alone, and maybe, just maybe none of this would have happened. Feeling useless, she decided to begin to pick up the chairs and throw away the broken dishes. No one bothered to wash the dishes the remained in the sink, and instead they gathered their things and left for the never ending walk home. No one said anything for awhile and it filled Carmella with grief to see her family so broken. When they got home, Carmella was sent to bed by her mother. She first brushed her teeth and washed her face of in the bathroom of their small 2 bedroom house near the center of town. She kissed her parents good night. They were sitting at the kitchen table, both with drinks of rum and ice. "I hope you feel better papi", she said. "Thank love, I will". She heard hushed voices while she slept. It was past midnight, and despite the long and tiresome night, she couldn't seem to fall asleep with all that was on her mind. The next morning, she woke up to music. Her mother must be cleaning she thought, because it would be the only reason for her mother to play music so early in the morning. The music, however, filled her with hope that last nights situation had already begun to become something of the past. Although confused on exactly what had happened, she was happy to find her mother dancing around with a broom while singing along to Julio Iglesias, and her father reading the newspaper with a mug of black sugared coffee. It was a typical Sunday morning, almost as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened the night before. "Carmella, we're out of eggs and basically all of our food. Want to go to Ramon's and pick up some empanadas for us?", her mother asked Carmella. "Yea sure mami, let me get dressed first though." Ramon was owned a local stand of sandwiches that he carted around the center of town. For years her mother had hinted that Carmella should take in interest in his son, Louis, who was just a few years older than Carmella. Carmella, on the other hand, found him attractive and handsome, but there was no other way to describe, but as a complete goofball. Carmella thought of Louis as her little brother. He was always happy, friendly to everyone, had a wacky, but outrageously funny of making people laugh. She smiled, the second she saw that Luis was running the street food stand that Sunday morning. "Louis!", she called. "Hey, hermana! (sister)", he called back. They had been so close over the years growing up, that they had become accustomed to calling each other brother and sister. "What's up girl? Where've you been all these weeks man? I haven't seen you since school let out," She giggled and said, "I've been busy. Dancing, the restaurant" "Well you free tonight?" "I might be", she looked at him skeptically because she knew there was some sort of plan he was hiding. "Well you better be. Everyone's meeting up on the beach tonight. I'm talking girls in bikinis, a bonfire, and maybe few packs of beers". She laughed, "I didn't think girls in bikinis interested you. I thought you were still dating Maria?" "No, she was too shallow, not my type. And she complained a lot. Anyways point, it it's gonna be fun, and I want you there." "Yea, I'll be there, listen I need six empanadas. Four with beef and two with cheese." "I'm on it." They gossiped about school and their friends, until the sandwiches were done and Carmella began walking home. When she arrived, she quietly entered through the front door and head her parents talking. "I don't know what were going to do. We're already broke as it is and now this." her father said. "Well, we can go to the police and try to get the money back. But, in the mean time, we'll have to let the German go. The poor guy" "The poor guy? It's stupid tourists like him who robbed us. That's all foreigners do here. They take out money, and they bring their problems and their drugs and do whatever the fuck they want in this country". "Ignacio, I'm starting this again. We'll let him go" At this point, Carmella decided to make her presence known, so that it wouldn't seem like she was spying. "Mami! Papi! I got the empanadas!", she shouted from the front door and began walking to the kitchen where she found her parents at the dinner table. "Hi, honey, thanks for getting those." Her mother said. "Listen, we should tell you what happened last night", her tone got serious and Carmella took a seat at the table and prepared herself for the worst. Her father sat in silence, he now has a purplish splotch on the right side of his face. "A gringo came to the restaurant. He was probably on drugs and he threatened your father with a gun" She stopped and took a deep breath. "We lost a lot of money." "But, can't we catch the guy? Tell the police? Something?", Carmella was outraged at the situation and refused to accept that things were as bad as they were. "He was wearing a mask, we don't even know what he looked at. But your father and I talked about it. We're going to have to make a lot of changes, small things. Maybe working more hours at the restaurant, cutting a few of your classes. These things are necessary at times likes this" The thought of losing her dance classes sparked tears in Carmella's eyes, but she held back. She understood the things that had to be done and she was not going to complain. Part of this was due to the fact that she still felt extreme guilt for leaving her father alone in the restaurant the previous night. Never before had she felt this helpless and alone. "Ok, I understand" she said, her eyes on the ground. "And one more thing, we're going to have to fire the German. You don't mind explaining to him what happened do you?" "Yea ofcourse" "It's just, we can barely afford what we really need. We can't afford extra help." "I know, I'll explain things". The impending stress of the robbery had made Louis's party seem more and more appealing. She knew it would be a temporary cure for her stress and so she left her parents at the table to continue their conversation without her. She stepped in to the bathroom and slowly, but precisely began shaving her legs. Tonight, she was going to let the problems fly off of her shoulders, and finally have a bit of the summer fun she had missed out on since school let out. Around five, Carmella left her bedroom to find her mother making dinner by the stove. "Hey, Mami, can I talk to you?" "Yea, anything wrong?" "No, look a lot has happened. I haven't seen my friends in forever, and Louis is having a party by the beach tonight, can I please go?" "Well, ok, Carmella I think you deserve a night to out. Be home not too late, and make sure Louis walks you home, ok?" "Yea ofcourse Mami, thankyou!". She kissed her mother's cheek and then rushed to her room to slip on a bikini, light pink t-shirt and jeans. Walking out the door, her spirits were suddenly lifted as she stepped on to the sidewalk adjacent to her house. She made brisk steps until she leaped up Louis's front steps and made loud knocks on the door. Louis's father opened the door and excitedly greeted her. "Oh look who it is!" He took her face in his hands and kissed both cheeks. "Where have you been Chica linda! We miss having you over for dinner!" "I know I've been busy lately. It's nice to see you though. Carmella was always impressed and slightly surprised by the enthusiasm Ramon had in him every second of the day. A few years ago, She remember his wife, Rita, Had left him and Louis. She never knew the reasons, but remembered that during that period of time, was the last time she ever remembered seeing Ramon without a smile on his face. Louis never talked much about his mother, and Carmella never asked. She knew it was a touchy subject and didn't want to impose on anything that wasn't her business. "Louis! Your girlfriend is here!" he teased. Carmella heard his door open and out came Louis in a polo, jeans, and Sandals. His hair was freshly gelled and she could smell his cologne from the front door. That was Louis alright, he wanted to make the world aware of presence and he was going to look good while doing it. "Yea let's go mella" He grabbed a volleyball from the couch and they headed out the door. He always called her Mella for short. He had done it since they were in 4th grade and soon most of her friends caught on to the new name. "Hey you know Alberto's gonna be there" Louis said with a sly smile as they made their way down the sidewalk and toward the beach. "And" She said, sounding clueless. "Don't act like he didn't have a thing for you" "Doesn't matter, I never had a thing for him" "I guess he's a cool guy though" "Yea, hey you wouldn't believe what happened last night..." Carmella continued to tell him the story of the robbery, Hans, and her family's money problems. By the time she had finished her story they could see the beginnings of a large pile of wood surrounded by a few people. "You know I can't believe that" he said. "It really sucks" "You think?" She said sarcastically. "But you, know I think I might have a cure?" "Really?" She said, intrigued. "Beer and Volleyball?" Carmella shook her head at Louis's simplistic views on life. "Or how about some dancing?" He continued. As the music from the boombox became prevalent he began thrusting his hips to a pop song that had reached the summer's hit list. The laughs escaped Carmella endlessly as she watched her ridiculous friend shimmy his waist as he turned in circles. "I think Volleyball might work out better" She joked, but when they reached the beach they realized the group of people there were searching for more drift wood for the fire. Further down the beach Carmella spotted one of her closest school friends Marioli and went sprinting to greet her. The two excitedly hugged each other the second they reached each other. Carmella was happy to be surrounded by friends and she was itching with excitement for a night of drinking and dancing to begin. As the night grew darker, the crowd grew larger and more diverse. The four foot fire was licking the night sky with blue flames that created a soft orange glow on the people who surrounded the fire. Some were dancing, some talking, and a few couples had ventured closer to the shore where they could have the privacy of a star filled sky and the soft waves that slid to meet their feet. Carmella sat by the fire, catching up with a few friends, one of which had a bit too much to drink and was obnoxiously shouting in to her ear. Nonetheless, Carmella's night was as relaxing as she had hoped. Just as Marioli was filling her in on her latest crush, Carmella spotted a pale blonde figure through the orange flames. She lifter her head, and there he was, Hans was sitting cross legged on the beach sand with a beer in hand. He was chatting it up with Louis and the two were laughing uproariously. "Carmella!" Marioli said, slightly annoyed. "Are you even listening to me?" "Yea, I, sorry I got distracted". Marioli then looked over to where Carmella had been staring and saw the two young men engaged in conversation with each other. "Please tell me you were looking at the hot blonde guy and not Louis" Carmella laughed at her reaction, "No, I wasn't distracted by anyone, I just, the blonde, Hans, he works at the restaurant." "No! him" Marioli's eyebrows were raised. "Carmella, he's gorgeous, go talk to him!" "Marioli" She rolled her eyes. "It's not like that, I'm not interested, I just, know the guy that's all." "Sure" she said disbelievingly. Carmella avoided conversation about Hans and distracted Marioli by getting to her to continue the gossip on her romantic life. During this however, she occasionally would look to her right and see Hans. At one point Marioli had gotten up to talk to another friend and Carmella saw Hans sitting by himself. She stood up and he recognized her immediately. He waved and smiled smile of perfect while teeth. She happily walked over to site near him. "Carmella! I didn't expect to see you here!" He said excitedly. "I know, I wouldn't have expected to see you here either. Are you having a good time?" "A fantastic time! It's beautiful out here at night. And everybody is so nice" "Yea, It's nice, We come out here a lot at night during summer". "Well, I hope to join you on some of those nights" "That would be nice" They sat in an awkward silence for a minute, but the impending silence made it seem more like ten minutes. "Listen Carmella, this party it's really great, but I've never really gotten the change to explore this beach, and maybe we could go for a walk?" "umm, well, maybe, just not too far", She said hesitantly. Carmella was surprised by the amount of trust she had developed for Hans after their short interactions, but her better sense told her that he was still too much of a stranger to venture off in to the pitch black beach alone. "Let's stay here. the fire's warm" she said. Before he could respond she decided to tell him the recent news. "Hans. there's something that happened. We wont be needing your help at the restaurant anymore. I'm really sorry, I know you needed the job, and this must have just ruined everything for you" "Don't worry about it!" His smile and relaxed manner reassured her that it truly was no big deal that he was being fired. "You see, we were robbed last night, after you left" "Robbed!? I'm so sorry, is everyone ok, are you ok?". "Yes, we're fine, but money is really very tight". She was surprised by his strong reaction of worry. "Well then I'll help out for free" "What?" This certainly wasn't the reaction she had expected. "Hans, what? No, it's ok" "Carmella, I've seen that restaurant, you can barely manage it with the three of you, and who in that family is going to be able to lift the heavy crates of potatoes you guys get every day?" "I don't know, but, really Hans if we can't pay you, don't feel like you have to work for use" He shrugged and replied, "I don't have to, but I want to. Your going to need the help, and I have nothing better to do, so let me help you" "Ok" She smiled, "I'll talk to my father about it and we'll see what he says. But honestly, your being too kind!" "No, just doing whats right that's all". From there, it was simple. The loud music, shouting kids, and crashing waves were silences by Hans. They became deeply lost in conversation. It small talk about the restaurant anymore, it was about their lives, each other, their families, their pasts, their likes and dislikes. They noted small things about each other like their favorite foods and types of music. Sure Carmella was clueless to what Strudel and Kraftwerk were, but she was still interested and amazed by his culture and funny German accent. Everything about his life seemed completely different about hers, but it only interested her only more. He came from a family of five siblings, four brothers and one younger sister. He had always wanted to travel, and admitted that there was no real direction in his life other than the want to discover the world. She couldn't help how she felt and at one point he inched closer to her where they were sitting on the sand and her heart began to beat faster. She began to stumble over he words, but his eyes looking in to hers relaxed her. After an hour of talking, they were both silenced as they stared in to each other's eyes, when out of no where Louis plopped a seat right next to Carmella. "Hey you guys" "Hey" Carmella replied and they bother waved at Louis, who was beyond buzzed. "Mella, we should probably get going, I don't want to be blamed for getting you home late" Carmella was slightly embarrassed that she had to have Louis look after her. "Yea, you'r right, I think I lost track of the time". She turned toward Hans, "I'll see you around", she said with a smile of since happiness. "I hope so". Louis had already become distracted by a girl from their school who he was trying to flirt with. "Louis, come, on remember what you said?" "Right" he said and turned toward the girl. "Lorena, if you ever want to call me, you have my number" She rolled her eyes as the two made their way toward the sidewalk. "Holy shit Carmella! What a night! Am I right? Do you know how many numbers I got? Like ten or like 20, I lost count after a while" "You did not, you liar" "Hey, I attract women like a magnet, It's not my fault. Where were you the whole time? I think Alberto was looking for you" He teased. She shoved him playfully and said, "I don't know, I talked to Hans for a while" "The German kid?" "Yea" "He's a pretty cool kid, I can't really understand him though" "Well that's probably cause your failing english" "haha, probably" he laughed. "Hey did you see that fight between Mateo and Benjamine?" "No, they fought?" "Yea, shit, Mateo got punched right in the face! There was blood everywhere! And you know Marioli and that guy? They took a "walk" along the beach and came back like an hour later if you know what I mean" "Aye, Louis, Marioli's not like that" she laughed "That's what you think" he said indignantly as he stumbled over the curb and on to the empty street. The summer heat had gotten to him and his white polo hung over his left shoulder. Finally the two arrived at Carmella's front door step. "Well we're here. I'll see you tomorrow?" she said, waiting outside her front steps. "Yea, I'll probably be hungover for half the day" "Well get some sleep ok?" They moved in to a long endearing hug and then Carmella sluggishly walked up her steps and in to her house. The lights were all of, except for the small t.v in the living room was still showing Spanish dubbed action movies. Directly in front of the T.V was her father, half covered in a blanket, and strewn across the couch. His mouth hung open and his hand drooped until it almost could touch the floor where a bottle of Brandy sat half empty with the cap off. She turned of the T.V, opened a window to let the air in, and tiptoed up the stairs to her room. She didn't bother to wash her face, but brushed her teeth, laid her jeans and bra on a chair in her room and let herself drop on to her bed for a long deep sleep. Hours later, she found herself being shaken by her mother. "Carmella get up! I made coffee, let's go!" "Aye mama, is it even morning? The sun's not even out." "I know, but your father's not feeling well, we have to open up the restaurant today", she said as she fled down the stairs. Carmella sluggishly got up and considered getting dressed, but figured that the coffee was a priority. when she thumped her was downstairs she heard the crackling of oil and saw two eggs sprinkled with onions and peppers. She decided to cut pieces of bread from a study bageutte and cut chunks of cheese to go along with it. "What's wrong with Papi" Carmella asked "Nothing, just, he has a horrible stomach ache" Carmella knew this to mean that he was hung over, but she thought it best to keep her mouth shut. They ate together on stools at the small center island in the middle of their kitchen as her mother gossiped with he about the beach party. "That Louis, he's still the fine young man he's always been? Did you two have a good time together?" "Mama for the last time, he's a friend, he's like my brother! And we didn't talk much at the party" "I didn't say anything about him being more than your friend, did I?" "No, but, but that's what you meant!" She stumbled. "Aye Carmella, so defensive, got anything your hiding?" She teased. Carmella rolled her eyes at her mother as she put her dishes in the ink and rushed up the stairs to tie her hair up, wash her face, pull on a dress, and brush her teeth all under seven minutes. Seconds later the two stepped on to the sidewalk where they heard morning birds chirping. The sky and air was at that awkward point between night and morning where it was sunny, but still chilly. "Mami it's cold! Let me run in and get a sweater?" "Carmella, we barely have enough time as it is, let it go ok? It'll get warmer." When they finally reached the restaurant, Carmella was in shock to find Hans finely dressed in a lack button up shirt and black pants, uncomfortably sitting on the short sidewalk curb. "Hans?" "Oh hola Ms. Jimenez, and Carmella", he said as he shook Carmella's mother's hand and went to kiss Carmella's cheek. "What a great morning, huh?" he said with too much enthusiasm for 7:00 in the morning. "Carmella", her mother said as she pulled her to the side. "Listen, explain to him what happened, ok and let him off easy. Tell him we're very sorry and.." She whispered in Spanish. "I know mama, I know what to do" Carmella said cutting her mother off. She went over to Hans who stood confused with his hands in his back pockets while her mother walked toward the back of the restaurant to open the doors. "Does she not know I'm working?" Hans said. "uhh, no, not yet. She probably wont believe me" said Carmella, still dumbfounded that he had actually shown up that morning and kept to his word. "Well. do you mind telling her? I really want to help you guys out. I need something to work toward this summer" He said with a cheery smile. "Sure, come with me", she said as becconed him down the thin ally that lead to the door on the far right side of the restaurant. When they walked in, they found Elisa chopping vegetables in the kitchen. "Carmella, what, why is he back?" she said to Carmella, as if Hans wasn't even there. "He wants to work here. He's fine with not being paid" "What?! But why?" She said in Spanish looking toward Hans. "I don't know mami" She said with a shrug, "But how can we say no. We're short on money and" "Carmella don't worry about the money ok?" Her mother interrupted. "We're happy to have you" She said smiling toward Hans. "Carmella tell him it would be great if he could start wiping down the tables" "No problem Mami" She said as she exited the kitchen with Hans. "Carmella, what the hell happened to the register" he said seconds after leaving the kitchen "Remember, we got robbed" "It must have been pretty bad" "you think" "Well, I mean its not that bad" He said as he began picking up the plastic shards and change that scattered the floor. "You know you're crazy for working here" Carmella said, shaking her head. "yea, well, whats wrong with crazy, right?" "I, I guess, yea your right" She said letting out a slight chuckle.