No Second Chances (2 page)

A
small smile crept over Santiago's face. He'd been sitting in his truck in front of his uncle's restaurant thinking for the better part of the day, when it hit him. He could kick himself for not thinking of it sooner. Two doors down the street from his uncle's restaurant was a shady-looking storefront with paper on the windows and a homemade painted sign with the words
“Aquí Es
” that sold knockoff diet products like shakes, pills, and protein bars. People of all shapes and sizes exited the building carrying brown paper bags. He had counted ten
customers in the past fifteen minutes. No matter how bad the economy was, people always wanted to be thin.

In comparison, only the mail carrier had entered his uncle's restaurant. Santiago wondered how his uncle's business was doing. Looking down the street of old downtown, he wondered about the owners of the vacant buildings lining the block. Starting a business was risky, but wasn't life all about taking risks?

Santiago hopped out of his truck and pushed open the restaurant's front door. A comforting whiff of bacon and beans greeted him along with the sounds of Tex-Mex accordion music. His uncle Leo's restaurant was a family institution. He grew up playing hide-and-seek under the tables with his cousins and stealing fresh flour tortillas off the hot
comal
. The walls were covered in memories — black-and-white photographs of his long-dead relatives in crazy stone-face poses, a colorful mural he had helped paint, and there was
even a picture of him in his little-league oufit over the cash register. Soaking in his family's mementos, Santiago realized he came from a long line of merchants and do-it-yourself enthusiasts. He turned at the sound of his cousin complaining.

“But, Dad,” Fabi cried, “it's not fair. How are local businesses supposed to compete? We should talk to the mayor. Or maybe we can change our menu a little, add some vegetarian options? That way we can be unique. No one around here does vegetarian Mexican. Dad, are you listening to me? Dad?”

Uncle Leo moved in a slow, careful manner behind the counter. His wide frame towered over his prep cook, Chuy, who was making circles around them, grabbing precut fajita vegetables from a refrigerated counter tray and dropping them over the carne asada grilling on the stove. His long black braid whipped back and forth as he worked. “Dad,” Fabi said again. She frowned, crossing her arms in front of
her chest. She took after her dad's side of the family, with her thick frame and almond-colored skin.

“Leave your
papá
alone!”
tía
Magda, her mother, yelled from the other side of the room. “Can't you see he's busy? Why do you want him to stress?”

“But, Mom” — Fabi turned to her mother — “it's not fair. How are we supposed to compete with ‘Mr. Taco Man' opening up across the street? They're trying to run us out.”

“Hay mija,”
Magda said in an exasperated tone. “You and your crazy ideas.”

“Dios nos ayudará,”
Fabi's grandmother, whom everyone called “Abuelita Alpha,” interrupted as she made the sign of the cross near her wrinkly face. Her thin pale fingers worked meticulously at a red beaded rosary. Alpha was dainty, just like her daughter
tía
Magda and Fabi's sister, Alexis. Santiago smiled. In his large family, everyone had an opinion about everything.

“God helps those who help themselves,” Fabi countered. But her comment bounced right off her mother's shoulders like water on a hot grill. Her mother continued on with her duties managing the register as if Fabi hadn't said a word. Fabi shook her head and huffed in frustration. Her long brown ponytail shook back and forth like a palm tree in a storm. “I don't even know why I try,” Fabi said in a loud voice as she started clearing a table of its plates and silverware.

Santiago hopped onto a stool at the counter right next to Grandpa Frank. He slapped the lean old man on the back.

“How's it going?”

Grandpa Frank's tanned face brightened into a big smile, revealing his gold tooth. “Well, I'm alive,” he joked. “That's one good thing.”

“I heard you dropped out of school,” Alexis, his younger cousin, interrupted in a low voice from behind him. She seemed sweet and innocent, with her big eyes and easy smile, but the
girl was too nosy for her own good. “Your mom was just here and she was
mad
.” Alexis emphasized the last word in a teasing manner that reflected her true mischievous nature. Then her eyes became hard as stone. “When were you going to tell me about dropping out of school? What about the mariachi group? Do we mean nothing to you?” When Santiago didn't respond, Alexis narrowed her eyes at him. “Grandma Trini said you're bewitched. She and your mom went to find a brown chicken. I think they are going to try and exorcise the demons out of you.”

“Ha! That's funny — and it's none of your business,” Santiago said, shifting his body toward Frank. He gestured for her to go away. “Why don't you go get me some sweet tea or something?”

“Oh, c'mon,” Alexis pleaded, pouting her glossy lips. “Everyone is talking about it at school. If you don't want to be in mariachi, that's fine with me — you weren't that good
anyway. But I know they called you into the office.” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “What happened?”

Santiago knew he couldn't dodge Alexis. The girl would follow him incessantly until he told her what she wanted to know. “Fine. I'll tell you, but you have to swear that you won't tell anyone as long as you live.”

Alexis's eyes widened as she mouthed the words “I promise.”

“I'm pregnant,” Santiago said in a grave voice. He sighed and began to rub his belly with a sad expression. “And the problem is I don't know who the father is …”

Grandpa Frank started to chuckle so hard his veterans cap almost fell off. Alexis glared at both of them. Then she punched Santiago on the shoulder.

“Ha ha,” Alexis said in a taunting voice, giving him a fake smile. “Fine. Don't tell me. But don't call me when you are
actus reus
.” She
turned quickly, flicking his face with her shiny, straightened hair.

Santiago chuckled as Alexis stomped away. Ever since her mariachi boyfriend had been deported a couple of months ago, Alexis had started using big fancy words she'd picked up at the legal aid center where she volunteered. Now she was talking about being a lawyer.
Ha
, Santiago thought. That girl never picked up a book, unless she planned to throw it at someone.

He turned his attention back to Grandpa Frank. “Hey, do you still have all that food growing on your ranch?”

The old man studied him for a long second. “I've got some stuff,” he finally answered, adjusting his cap. “Why?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Does it have anything to do with this dropping-out business?”

Santiago winced, but he couldn't back
down. “Sort of. You see the thing is, I want to start my own business.”

“What about school? A man needs to have an education.”

“But you didn't finish high school,” Santiago pointed out.

“I went into the Navy. It was a different time. You need a diploma to get in now.”

“Uncle Leo started working in restaurants at fifteen,” Santiago countered.

“Like I said, a different time. We didn't have the opportunities you have now. You don't want to break your back working like a
burro
.”

“But school is just not for me,” Santiago explained. “I want to work. I have this idea and I think I could make a lot of money, but I need some help. You and Fabi could be like my business partners —”

“My ears are ringing,” his cousin Fabi said, coming up behind them. Santiago glanced over his shoulder at his cousin. Fabi held a bucket of
dirty dishes against her hip and a firm frown on her face. “Whatever it is, I'm just not interested. I can't believe you dropped out, Santiago. You only have four months left —”

“Just hear me out,” Santiago pleaded. “Hey, can you also fix me a plate? I'm starving.”

“Get it yourself,” Fabi complained as she headed to the sink to clear her bucket.

Santiago turned to Frank. “Who put a spur in her pants?”

“Didn't you notice that ‘sold' sign across the street?”

He winced. “No, sorry.”

“Some California franchise called Mr. Taco Man is setting up a whole bunch of taco shops throughout the Valley.”

“So that's what Fabi was talking about! I love that place. I had like five of their Juicy Mex Mex Nacho floats in San Antonio. It's about time we got some cool spots around here.” The look on Frank's face made him stop. “What?”

“Fabi is worried. She thinks we will lose customers.”

“See, that's exactly why I want you and Fabi in my business. You guys know how to think. Having a good business is all about knowing your competition and looking for an angle.”

“What are you plotting?” Fabi asked, serving a plate of steaming rice and beans with chili con carne in front of Santiago. She held out a fork for him and then pulled it out of his reach in a teasing manner. “You don't deserve all this service. Your mom is really worried.”

Santiago leaned in. “Fabi, imagine having your own business. You can be your own boss. No one putting down your ideas. You can make up your own menu.” Fabi squinted her eyes and folded her arms in front of her chest. She was waiting for the other
bota
to drop. “Just hear me out,” Santiago continued. “You're always talking about wanting to make healthy vegetarian stuff, right? And Grandpa Frank, you got
so many vegetables growing on that acre that you can't give them away.” He paused and glanced at both of them. “Why don't we combine our interests and start our own food stand?”

Fabi's eyes widened. “Us?” Her eyes lit up for a second. But just as quick, the glimmer went out. She glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen where her father was banging pots and pans together in a culinary massacre. “I can't leave my dad and mom alone. My dad is still weak from the heart attack.”

Santiago noted her concern. “It wouldn't be like all the time. You could still work at the restaurant. We can have our thing on the weekends at
la pulga
.”

Grandpa Frank raised his head when he heard the word ‘
pulga
.'
La pulga
was the weekend flea market where he used to sell his vegetables, hang out with his buddies, and make some extra money. It had been years since he had his little stand, and Santiago knew he missed talking to his neighbors and showing
off his prized produce. Frank still grew the biggest heads of lettuce in town, but a lot of it went to waste. It was getting to be too much work for him.

Santiago turned to his cousin. “Look, Fabi, how much you make here?”

“I get tips,” she replied flatly. Fabi glanced around the tables to see if anyone needed anything.

“Exactly. At that rate, you'll be an old cranky lady by the time you save enough money to travel like you want.” Fabi nodded, so he continued. “And just think, we can split the profits three ways. I'll take fifty percent and you two get twenty-five —”

Fabi shook her head. “That makes no sense.”

“Well, it was my idea.”

“I don't care,” Fabi protested.

Grandpa Frank laughed, slapping Santiago on the back. “I don't need any money,
mijo
. Your help around the ranch is payment enough for me.”

“Great,” Fabi said, all fired up. She reached out to shake Santiago's hand. “We'll go fifty-fifty, partner.”

Santiago shrugged. This was probably the best deal he would get from his cousin. He shook her hand, sealing the deal. Fabi rushed away to serve a table of customers. Santiago smiled; a warm sensation filled his chest. The ball was finally rolling, he thought, digging into his plate of delicious food. Santiago would show his mom and Assistant Principal Castillo. He would show them that he was a man and he could take care of his family. More important, Santiago would show the man who called himself his father that he didn't need him.

“So you'll need to come by around five,” Grandpa Frank said, interrupting Santiago's train of thought.

“Five p.m., no sweat,” Santiago said, breaking off a piece of tortilla to clean his plate.

Grandpa Frank started to laugh. “That's a good one. I mean five a.m. You better sleep
over. I'll let your mom know you'll be staying with me, so she doesn't worry.”

Santiago shrugged. “Sure.”

“Hey,” Fabi said, stopping in front of him with several plates of piping hot food in her hands. “I was thinking veggie shish kebabs with this amazing homemade glaze. I made them once at a party and they were a total hit.” She walked away before Santiago could tell her that he already had a menu in mind.

Santiago spun around on the stool to face the restaurant. Fabi was bustling around the room like a busy bee: clearing tables, seating new customers, and taking orders. Fabi was a hard worker who took few, if any, breaks. She was the perfect partner. He noticed Alexis watching him a couple of tables away. She had her schoolbooks out, but he could see it was just for show. Alexis was probably texting her friends from Mariachi Club or her boyfriend.

“Or maybe we can do something with cactus?” Fabi said, coming up behind him.

“I have a better idea. What does every woman really want?”

Fabi frowned.

“To be slim and sexy! Some men want that, too, of course. But we can be like those people on TV, selling the diet shakes, with those before-and-after pictures. You can be my model. We'll have to get you some baggier clothes….”

“What do you mean?” Fabi asked.

“Well, we need a moneymaker. You know how people are all into that healthy stuff. If we blend slim, sexy, and organic …
bam!
” He clapped his hands together for emphasis. “We have a sure winner. You can take some before-and-after pictures. After you get all skinny, of course.”