Caramelo

Chapter 52 begins with a scene of The Awful Grandmother riding in the car to Chicago with the family. The grandmother is moving to Chicago with them because the grandfather has recently died. She teaches the family a Mexican song, which Lala refuses to sing because she thinks it’s corny. Inocencio tells Lala she is just like her mother, and Lala resents this idea.

The grandmother reflects back to the day in Acapulco when Lala’s mother demanded that Inocencio choose between them. She recalls how Inocencio sent Señor Vidaurri—Aunty Light-Skin’s former husband—to pick her up. She describes him as “a gentleman” (239), neglecting to mention the complicated situation of their separation.

Lala then recalls how Aunty Light-Skin packed her suitcase to move to Monterrey, frustrated after years of living with the grandmother and suffering her verbal and psychological abuse. When Inocencio begged her to consider “what Father is thinking watching all this from heaven” (240) and to forgive the family, Aunty Light-Skin replied, “It’s easy for you to talk of forgiveness. You moved away!” (240).

The grandmother insults Lala’s appearance, and Lala—deep in the awkwardness of puberty—is hurt by her remarks. She then recalls strange stories her mother used to tell her to make her behave, such as the story of a girl who cried so much her eyes turned to apple seeds. She wonders if the grandmother and Aunty Light-Skin really hate one another, or if they just have a complicated relationship like she has with her mother.

Inocencio tells the story of his brief stint in the army. He explains that by the time he was sent to Japan, the war was already over. His sons ask if he ever saw a man kill another man, and he explains that he came close. This incident did not occur in a war-related battle, however, but a Tokyo bar fight between two fellow Mexicans. He explains that the worst things he saw were “the abuses of women” (244) in Japan and Korea by American soldiers. “The winners do what they like” (244), he tells them.

Conversation then briefly turns to the current draft for the Vietnam War. Lala’s mother is terrified that her sons will be drafted.

Chapter 53 opens with the scene of Narciso’s death (by heart-attack) behind the broom truck with the bumper sticker that reads, “YOU MIGHT LEAVE ME, BUT FORGET ME?—NEVER!” (194). In the moment of this chaotic accident, Lala deconstructs the grandmother’s lifelong striving to fulfill the machismo ideal of feo, fuerte, y formal behavior. She describes Narciso—in his death—as, “a feo diversion, a fuerte nuisance for the passing motorists, a sight as common as any yawning Guanajuato mummy, as formal as any portrait of Death on the frank covers of ¡Alarma! scandal magazine” (249). Onlookers claim that Narciso said a woman’s name—Exaltacion’s—before dying, but Lala ironically reflects that this claim might be no more than “story” (249).

Soledad is overwhelmed by grief, but she finds a strange sort of peace in the process of packing her things to move to Chicago with Lala’s family. As she looks through her belongings, she lingers over the photo of Narciso in his striped suit (with the cut-out that shows a bit of Exaltacion’s skirt hem). Soledad considers this photo in conjunction with the caramelo rebozo, contemplating the candy stripes of the old suit and the candy-dyed stripes of the shawl: how the past “swir[ls] together like the stripes of a chuchuluco” (254).

With this thought, the grandmother “unfolds the caramelo rebozo and places it around her shoulders. The body remembers the silky weight” (254). She considers the ways this shawl has carried and contained the legacy of her mother—the history of her family’s women—as she packs it up in “the walnut-wood armoire, the very same armoire where Regina Reyes had hid Santos Piedrasanta’s wooden button until her death” (254). Soledad reflects on the way this button was “tossed […] out as easily as Santos had knocked out her tooth” (254) when Regina passed away, “as easily as someone tossing out a mottled-brown picture of a young man in his striped suit leaning into a ghost” (254).

Thus, Soledad finally discards this painful memory, choosing—instead—to carry the memories embedded by (and embodied within) the caramelo rebozo.

Chapter 54 opens with a scene of Inocencio and Aunty Light-Skin fighting over the grandmother’s belongings. In this fight, they discuss the grandmother’s differing (and gendered) treatment of them over the years. Aunty Light-Skin says she should’ve gone to Vera Cruz on vacation with Zoila (as Inocencio explains that Zoila only came along to Mexico because he promised her a vacation).

The chapter flashes back in time to Inocencio’s arrival, when the grandmother insisted upon finding the most exquisite tamales in Mexico City just to make a single tamale sandwich for her beloved son. Lala rides on a bus through Mexico City with the grandmother and joins her on the quest for these exquisite tamales. On this journey, Lala observes the numerous street vendors and notes how many of them are peddling promises of female beauty: creams “guaranteed to make your skin lighter, more beautiful, more brilliant” (258). After they procure the tamales and board a bus for home, Lala feels grateful for the gendered appreciation of men who offer to let “la seniorita go first” (259).

Later on, while the family is focused on packing, Lala ventures out into the streets of Mexico City alone. She hopes a long walk will give her a break from her bickering family members. On this walk, however, she is confronted by leering and threatening men, including a man who exposes himself to her. Frightened by what she sees, Lala runs back to her grandmother’s house.

Aunty Light-Skin tells Lala the story of how she met Antonieta Araceli’s father—whom the family typically refers to as, “The Man Whose Name No One Is Allowed to Mention.” Aunty Light-Skin explains that when she was in her late teens, Uncle Baby took her to see a performance of the infamous Tongolele, a beautiful dancer from Cuba who was featured in Mexican musical films from the 50s. After the performance ended—and Aunty Light-Skin was backstage getting Tongolele’s autograph—hundreds of men rioted, trying to pull her from her dressing room. Aunty Light-Skin was ushered out of the room and—in the chaos of the moment—ended up in Tongolele’s getaway car.

In this car, Aunty Light-Skin met “The Man Whose Name No One Is Allowed to Mention” (who was a cousin of the man who played congas for Tongolele). He introduced himself to Aunty Light-Skin at the moment when Tongolele looked down at her and confusedly asked, “who are you?” (270). He graciously claimed that Aunty Light-Skin was with him, and she was struck by his gentlemanly aspect.

Aunty Light-Skin explains that though “The Man Whose Name No One Is Allowed to Mention” was a car salesman by trade, he was an excellent dancer and “every bit the artist” (270). Both of them understood, however, that their relationship was doomed from the outset because of her mother’s prejudice against dark-skinned men. Aunty Light-Skin explains that “The Man Whose Name No One Is Allowed to Mention” said that her mother would never give them permission to marry “because he’d already been married […] Plus he was a lot older, almost twenty years older than me […] and much-too-much-too Indian for Mother to approve. She was always concerned with el que diran, the what-will-they-say” (271).

The two of them are thus married in secret. At first, they have a happy life, but he soon begins to have affairs with other women. She then begins to hate him, but only because she also loves him. As Aunty Light-Skin explains to Lala, “only people you love can drive you to hate” (274).

Lala describes how the grandmother has become more deeply devoted to Mexico in the days leading up to her move to the United States. Though the grandmother intends to weep and sing patriotic songs when she reaches the border, she ends up simply falling asleep, waking up at the crossing, then blearily waking up and cursing the border agents. She complains about both the US government and the Mexican government, then drones on and on about how much she wishes she could smuggle across some Manila mangos.

In San Antonio, the family stops to see a man named Mars whom Lala’s father met during the war. Mars owns a number of local businesses and brags about his success to Lala’s family. Zoila quickly becomes exasperated, both with Mars’s bragging and her husband’s rapt attention to his boastful, exaggerated stories.

Toward the end of the conversation, Mars gives Lala’s father $50 with the explanation that they are raza (family). Lala’s father makes fervent promises to pay him back. Lala notices that her mother is smoking, something she almost never does (and only does when she has reached the height of frustration).

The grandmother is quiet for the rest of the trip. She wonders about how to invest the money from her house’s sale in Mexico City, and she looks through the classifieds of a San Antonio newspaper. She contemplates the possibility of becoming rich in San Antonio—like Mars—as she pages through Lonely Hearts columns of single people looking for love.

In Chicago, the grandmother stays with Uncle Baby and Aunt Ninfa because their house has a spare room (which will accommodate her until her sons find her an apartment of her own). The grandmother has trouble adjusting to the small room with its narrow bed. She struggles with the household noise, the cold Chicago weather, and other environmental elements that are very different from her home in Mexico. She misses her daily routines, and she takes her frustration out on the family, constantly complaining and criticizing.

Meanwhile, Inocencio gets in business-related arguments with his brothers. Uncle Baby and Uncle Fat-Face are bringing in clients who request modern furnishings such as vinyl coverings and chrome kitchen chairs, which Inocencio sees as cheap and tacky. While his brothers insist that their business must accommodate such requests to keep up with the times, Inocencio argues that taking on these jobs compromises the integrity of their work. From this conversation, it becomes clear that Inocencio sees upholstery as an art form, while his brothers simply see it as a means to make money.

Chapter 59 follows an amusing Sunday of bartering at the Maxwell Street Flea Market. Inocencio takes the family out on a quest for wing-tipped shoes at a shop called Harold’s. He goes through an elaborate ritual of trying on the shoes, arguing with Harold, leaving the shop, and haggling before ultimately settling on a price. Meanwhile, Lala takes in the odd mixture of sights, sounds, and smells around her at the market, where tackiness is mixed with strange beauty.

Chapter 60 begins with a phone call to Lala’s mother from Lala’s father in San Antonio. After hanging up, she excitedly reports that “for once your grandmother has given us something other than headaches” (299) by buying them a house in San Antonio. There, Inocencio reports, he will have his own upholstery shop, and they won’t have to rent a shop or an apartment. Lala’s mother says that the house has an apartment in back they can rent, as well as outdoor space for her garden: “Think, Lala, a garden without rats! We can sit outside after dark, and we won’t be scared, won’t that be something?” (299).

Lala’s brothers are frustrated by the process of packing for the move to San Antonio, complaining that they just moved back to Chicago. When Lala’s mother declares that they must only bring the essentials—father’s orders—Lala quietly thinks: “or the Grandmother’s” (300).

Despite this light sense of foreboding, Lala greatly looks forward to the family’s move south. She has always secretly longed to escape “the cold, and the stink, and the terror” (301) she experiences in Chicago. She is also happy about the prospect of no longer renting but finally owning a home.

Inocencio’s brothers are angry and hurt that the grandmother has bought his family a house. Uncle Fat-Face is particularly upset because the grandmother has been living with them for months. As Lala explains, “It’s like a gas leak, the bad feelings. A slow hiss you know will end in something terrible” (303).

When the family reaches San Antonio, they are greeted by a run-down house that is “washed-up, rotten, rusted, falling apart” (306): a far-cry from the exaggerated stories of Lala’s father and grandmother. Upon seeing the house, Lala begins to cry. Her mother matter-of-factly tells her, “Quit it! What this place needs is some Pine-Sol” (306).

Lala watches her father speak to a white Texan man at his shop and notices how he panders to his customers. The two men speak about being in the US Army during the war, and the Texan man says, “I didn’t know Mexicans fought with the Allies” (309). In the midst of the conversation, Inocencio exaggerates his involvement in the war. Afterward, Lala’s mother objects to his stretching of the truth. He protests that he was simply being polite, but she cautions, “[white people] don’t see it as polite” (309).

Chapter 62 focuses on Lala’s family and their oddly mixed relationship with Catholicism. Much to Lala’s mother’s chagrin, the grandmother insists upon hanging an enormous poster of la Virgen de Guadalupe in their bedroom, right above their bed. Lala’s father insists that they give in to the grandmother’s wishes.

Though Lala’s mother does not believe in God, she insists that her children attend Catholic school so they receive a proper education. Lala notes that her brothers “think Mother is God” (312) and therefore do not think to complain. Lala’s mother believes that a good education will enhance their prospects of getting into college (and thus avoiding the Vietnam draft).

Lala then explains that “nothing’s the way Father said” (314). Opposed to owning a shop, he rents from Mars. The apartment in the back of the house is too broken-down and dirty to rent. The house itself also requires much time and labor to fix.

Inocencio and Lala go to visit the priest at the Catholic school he wants Lala and her brothers to attend. He pleads for the priest to lower the cost of their tuition, exaggerating their poverty and devotion to the Catholic church. The priest agrees to lower their tuition in exchange for work and church service. Thus, Lala is given a job as a housekeeper’s assistant.

As a housekeeper’s assistant, Lala reports to Tracy, a perky white high-school graduate “who’s supposed to train [Lala] before she goes away for college” (320). Lala is overwhelmed by the many tasks that must be performed in just the right way. She remarks on the unsettling differences between this environment run by white people and her own home environment: “No dried egg yolk on the side of the stove […] No smell of fried tortillas […] Everything as spotless as the model kitchens in the appliance section of the Sears” (321).

When Lala returns home, she cries and proclaims that she can’t go back to being a housekeeper’s assistant. Lala’s mother is understanding. She tells her that they will find another way to pay her tuition.

Chapter 64 provides a portrait of Lala’s life at Catholic school, focusing on Sister Odilla, whom the students nickname “Sister Oh” (who is obsessed with talking about the dangers of sex and insists on an exaggerated pronunciation of her name: “Say Oh. Oh-DEE-lee-ah” (324).

In Sister Oh’s class, she makes her students fill out odd “sex surveys” with questions such as, “Do you expect your husband to be a virgin on your wedding night?” (324). One of Lala’s classmates, Viva Ozuna, boldly mocks these surveys. Lala—who has “never kissed a boy” (325)—is attracted to Viva’s experienced perspective and vibrant personality.

Viva and Lala are enrolled in the same freshman algebra class together even though Viva is a senior (because she claims the nun who teaches the class hates her). They quickly become friends, as Viva passes Lala notes asking her to share her answers, promising, “I’ll owe you a favor big time” (326).

Viva is bold and confident, strutting around the locker room half naked, rolling up her uniform skirt, sporting platform shoes. Her confidence is infectious and begins to lift Lala’s spirits as their friendship evolves. Viva, in turn, learns about Mexico from Lala, confessing she’s never been. Viva’s family has lived in Texas for seven generations (and has never left).

The two friends bond over their search for stylish clothes in thrift stores. They also commiserate over their complicated family lives. Viva’s home life is complicated because her grouchy older brother has been living in the house for years since his divorce. Her mother also had a sudden stroke at an early age, and she often gets stuck on a single thought, repeating a phrase over and over again. Viva and Lala also share their fantasies of their future lives. Viva dreams of moving to San Francisco to be a musician after she graduates, and she wants Lala to come with her. 

Lala’s family continues to struggle as they attempt to fix the broken-down house. A northern storm blows into San Antonio, and the house is bitterly cold. Lala bemoans the fact that even moving this far south, the family can’t escape the Chicago winter.

One evening, Lala’s father calls for the grandmother, and she doesn’t answer. Her door is locked, so they have to call the fire department to knock it down. They wheel her out on a gurney and she “can’t say a word, except to stick the tip of her tongue out between her thin yellow beak and give a weak sputter” (335).

Lala and Viva spend the afternoon trying on fancy dresses at a store in a mall called the Vogue. As they leave the store, they are accosted by two security guards and taken to an office in the back of the mall. In the office, the security guards order Lala and Viva to empty their bags.

Lala is indignant, believing they have been falsely targeted as shoplifters just because they are Mexican. Viva is frightened, however, because she has, in fact, shoplifted a pair of gloves in her bag. Viva cries performatively and delivers a monologue about how poor she is and how strict her parents are. The security guards take pity on her and let her off with a warning.

Once outside of the mall, Viva reveals that she has stolen a memo notepad from one of the security guards. Together, they laugh furiously, letting out their frustration through their laughter. 

When the grandmother moves back home after being discharged from the hospital, much of the caregiving burden falls upon Zoila. Resentful of the time she spends cleaning up after the grandmother, Zoila channels years of (formerly) repressed anger into the way she addresses the grandmother, calling her “mi cruz,” or “my cross” (342). One day, in a particularly tense moment, Zoila carries the grandmother to the edge of the staircase and holds her there, as though threatening to throw her down. In that moment, however, the grandmother’s eyes begin to water, and her pathetic expression brings Zoila “back to humanity” (343).

At school, Viva excitedly tells Lala that a 30-year-old local man named Darko—whom Viva refers to as Zorro—has proposed to her, and they’re now engaged. Lala feels betrayed by this news and asks Viva, “What about San Francisco?” (344). Viva tells Lala that “You, me, and Zorro” (344) will still move to San Francisco, but Lala is skeptical. Viva then tells Lala, “you are the author of the telenovela of your life […] Choose. I believe in destiny as much as you do, but sometimes you’ve gotta help your destiny along” (345).

The grandmother feels her body slowly slipping out of her control, and she compares the sensation to becoming invisible. She remembers how she first began to feel invisible when her body began to age, and men no longer looked at her as an object of desire. Now, as she begins the process of dying, “the body le[ads] her, a wide row boat without oars or a rudder, drifting. Giddy, she [doesn’t] need to do a thing, simply be” (347).

The night Lala’s grandmother dies, her mother opens all the windows of the house—even though it’s January—insisting it smells like barbacoa. This idea makes Lala’s head spin into all kinds of unpleasant associations. She imagines, for example, “the spiral of sticky flypaper dangling above the meat counter at Taqueria la Milagrosa on South Halsted droning, droning, droning that death song” (349). Lala is disturbed that she is thinking of the wrong things, distraught that she “doesn’t feel anything for the grandmother” (349).

After the grandmother’s death, the family struggles even more financially, and Lala’s father is forced to tell Mars “stories” that explain why the shop’s rent is late, month after month. As a cost-cutting measure, Lala moves from Catholic school to a vocational public school.

At the public school, Lala doesn’t fit in with the white or Mexican students. When she is asked, “Hey, hippie girl. You Mexican on both sides?” (352), she is told that she doesn’t “look” Mexican. Lala thinks this is a ridiculous idea, as there are all kinds of Mexicans:

the green-eyed Mexicans. The rich blonde Mexicans. The Mexicans with the faces of Arab sheiks. The Jewish Mexicans. The big-footed-as-a-German Mexicans. The leftover-French Mexicans […] The Lebanese Mexicans. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about when you say I don’t look Mexican. I am Mexican. Even though I was born on the U.S. side of the border (353).

Lala thus begins to tell stories about her legacy, such as, “I come from a long line of royalty. On both sides” (353). Hearing about these stories, Lala’s mother gets frustrated, saying that Lala is just like her father. Zoila claims that Inocencio comes from a family of liars who pretend to be better than they are by telling stories. Privately, Lala wonders, "How can I explain? Talk is all I’ve got going for me” (353).

In class, Lala makes the mistake of talking about how she is part Spanish (on the side of her grandfather from Seville). Her Mexican classmates thus begin to target her, bullying her for “pretending like [she’s] Spanish” (354). A girl named Cookie Cantu is especially brutal in her bullying, stalking Lala after school and encouraging other girls to beat her up.

Lala’s father labors hard at his job, working on a set of chairs for the Saint Anthony Hotel, and his hands are constantly swollen. His hands are so swollen that he can’t lift his utensils at dinnertime, and her mother begins to handfeed him like a baby.

When Lala tries to talk to her father about her desire to live on her own someday, he becomes intensely critical. He says that it is improper for women to leave the house without being married, that doing so would make her “worse than a dog” (360). In the midst of his ranting, Lala sadly contemplates the phonic resemblances between the words he uses: “Prostituta. Puta. Perra Perdida. Papa” (360).

After all Zoila’s efforts to protect her sons from the draft, Toto actually enlists in the army. Lala reflects that she doesn’t blame him: “Viva’s right, sometimes you’ve got to help your destiny along. Even if it calls for drastic measures” (361). She muses that if she could, she would “join up with something” (361) just to have some sense of belonging.

Lately, Lala feels a lack of belonging, as her mother is deeply absorbed in her projects (which usually revolve around fixing the house) and Viva is absorbed in her relationship with Zorro. She begins to feel haunted by her grandmother, smelling the odd scent of fried meat every time she passes her room. Lala notes that the grandmother seems to appear in front of her whenever she’s alone, whenever she closes her eyes.

When Lala complains to her mother that she is depressed, however, her mother is not supportive. She tells her, “Look at me, I had seven kids, and I’m not depressed. What the hell have you got to be depressed about?” (364). 

Against her better judgement—and her own expectations for herself—Lala falls in love with a young man named Ernie Calderon, who is friends with her brothers. He is a “good Catholic Mexican-Texican boy” (365) who loves his mother, so Lala’s father immediately bonds with him.

Lala hates the name Ernie and insists upon calling him Ernesto. From the beginning of their relationship, all their attempts at romance seem to falter. For example, Ernesto tries to take Lala to see a meteorite shower in his truck one summer night, but it is too cloudy, and they don’t see a single star. Instead, they sit together in the bed of the truck while he plays cheesy songs on his guitar. Lala seems endeared to his awkwardness, however, and thinks to herself, “I promise I’ll never make you cry […] And I won’t let anyone else make you cry either” (367).

Lala continues to describe Ernesto’s delicate appearance—comparing him to “a porcelain salt shaker” (368)—and odd disposition—including his “corny” jokes that always seem “a little off” (369). She remarks on her father’s approval of him, noting, “up until Ernesto, Father gave any boy who came near me that eye of the rooster he’s famous for […] But with Ernesto, well, I guess he’s just satisfied he’s Mexican” (368).

Lala also appreciates that Ernesto is Mexican. Specifically, she likes that he doesn’t question her Mexican identity just because his family comes from a different part of Mexico (Monterrey), and has different habits and preferences. As Lala says, “I don’t have to explain everything about the different foods we eat depending on the different regions our families come from […] Ernesto doesn’t have to ask me if I’m Mexican. He knows” (368).

When Ernesto takes Lala to the movies and kisses her (awkwardly) in the theater, she sees someone who looks just like her grandmother and smells the haunting scent of barbacoa. Lala thus insinuates that, in some ways, this relationship follows the patterns of her grandmother’s own young romance (including Narciso and Soledad’s awkward first kiss). From this moment onward, Ernesto seems “cool and handsome” to Lala despite his oddness.

Chapter 78 opens with advice from Lala’s mother: “Marry someone who adores you […] Everything else is crap” (372). Ironically, her mother tells her this while digging through the family’s disorganized belongings for her “coffee thingamajig,” obviously frustrated by her own current home life and marriage.

Soon after, Lala tells Ernesto that he must ask her to marry him. Ernesto worries about his religious conflicts as a Catholic and wonders what his family will think, but eventually relents with, “okay, I guess” (373).

It is not an ideal day to propose marriage, however. Lala’s mother is busy attempting to make an elaborate dinner, and her father suddenly comes to the house in a panic. Her father announces that men from Immigration just came to his shop, and he needs to find the papers that prove his citizenship. The family is then forced to ransack the house searching for the shoe box that contains his papers. In the midst of the chaos, Ernesto repeatedly whispers to Lala, “should I ask them now?” (376), but she dissuades him.

Eventually, Lala’s father finds his papers from the US Army. When Immigration comes to the house and he presents these all-important papers, they simply shrug and mumble apologies. As they leave, Lala’s father shouts curses at them, still in a state of deep agitation. Lala’s mother, meanwhile, is distraught that she has burnt their dinner.

Almost immediately afterward, Lala’s father begins making plans to move out of San Antonio, fed up with the accumulating stresses of his life.

Shortly after the Immigration incident, Lala’s father has a fight with Mars. He comes back to the house and announces that the family is going “home.” Lala wonders where home is: “North? South? Mexico? San Antonio? Where, Father?” (380). Lala’s father affirms, “all I want is my kids […] That’s the only country I need” (380).

Desperate for romance, Lala convinces a reluctant Ernesto to run away with her to the Hotel President in Mexico City. Her badly-formed plan is to become pregnant by Ernesto and thus make their marriage a necessity. In Lala’s mind, she is “helping her destiny” (382) just like Viva.

At first, Lala feels excited about this plan. She admires the beauty of the hotel room: “the most beautiful room in the world! […] The ceiling with its scrolled molding like frozen cream pies” (381), and festively drapes Ernesto in the grandmother’s caramelo rebozo. She is impressed by how beautiful he looks and wonders why men don’t wear rebozos. As the night drags on, however, Lala begins to feel a deep dread. Her senses are heightened by this dread, and every sound feels sharp and grating. She feels as though the grandmother’s caramelo rebozo is watching her, judging her, telling her she should be ashamed.

Ernesto begins to cry. He tells Lala that he can’t follow through with her plan because he is too afraid to break from his Catholic values, and he worries what his mother will think. He tells her he has decided he wants to become a priest, and that they do not have the same “spiritual values” (387). As he cries in Lala’s arms, she reflects, “those tears, they’re the only honest thing he ever said to me” (388).

Ernesto leaves, but Lala stays behind in Mexico City unsure of what to do next. To comfort herself, she puts on the grandmother’s caramelo rebozo and sucks on the fringe. She notes, “It has a familiar sweet taste to it, like carrots, like camote, that calms me” (388). Wearing the rebozo, she wanders her grandmother’s old neighborhood and observes that everything has changed. Her grandmother’s house has been painted an ugly brown color and is now inhabited by strangers. Watching the interactions of street vendors, taxi drivers, and families walking down Destiny Street, Lala thinks, “Everybody needs a lot. The whole world needs a lot” (389).

That night, Lala lies in bed and dreams that she hears the voices of her family members saying, “Always remember, Lala, the family comes first—la familia” (390). Moved by these voices, she cries out, “I want to come home!” (390). 

Lala’s father sends a local man to pick her up from the white lace-trimmed hotel room. Ironically, this man is Señor Coochi, the singer who long ago promised her a gorgeous bed during a party at her grandmother’s house. In a strange way, Señor Coochi’s promise has become Lala’s destiny. On the way home, Lala recalls her childhood, remembering how she could never draw pictures of herself without drawing her whole family.

When Lala returns home, her father greets her with tears, “shivering and heaving like [Lala has] died and [come] back from the dead” (395). Lala reflects that he has not come to comfort her, as she imagined he would; rather, she is comforting him. She muses that these tears are “The body speaking the language it spoke before language. More honest and true” (395).

Lala’s family moves back to Chicago, and her father rejoins the Reyes brother’s upholstery business. Though he is not happy about being known as “The Kings of Plastic Covers” (397), he is forced to accept whatever job comes, and the business begins to flourish.

Lala reveals that Viva broke up with Zorro and went on to college, realizing she didn’t want to be with Zorro so much as be him. She also reveals that Ernesto ironically got married because he knocked up a strict Catholic girl. “Destiny’s like that” (399), Lala muses, deciding that Ernesto was “[her] destiny, but not [her] destination” (399).

Business is so successful that Lala’s mother buys a two-story walkup and becomes a landlady. Zoila complains that their tenant’s rent is always late, that—much like Lala’s own father—they must always “give us a story” (400) about the reason they have no money. In the midst of grumbling about the rent, Lala’s mother addresses her father, only to realize he is unconscious.

At the hospital, Lala’s father is moved to Intensive Care, where he is “anchored by machines and tubes […] Like those mummies in the basement of the Field Museum” (402). In this pivotal moment—unsure of whether her father will live or die—Lala’s mother reveals a long-kept family secret: that the washerwoman’s daughter, Candelaria, is her sister. Lala’s mother explains that her father had an affair long ago with Candelaria’s mother. She explains that the big family blow-out in Acapulco revolved around this affair. Lala’s mother hadn’t known about the affair when she married him, and the Awful Grandmother was “the big-mouth” (404) who told her (likely hoping that she would leave him in anger). 

Upon hearing this secret, Lala exclaims, “Poor Papa,” and her mother protests, “Poor Papa? What about me! I’m the one that got treated like dirt. And he’s never even said sorry or anything. All these years. That’s the worst of it” (404).

Lala goes into the hospital room to see her father. In the room, she sees the Awful Grandmother and smells the overwhelming stench of fried barbacoa. While Lala begs her father to live, the grandmother cries out for him to give up living and come join her. When Lala asks the grandmother why she is haunting her, the grandmother exclaims,

Me? Haunting you? It’s you, Celaya, who’s haunting me. I can’t bear it. Why do you insist on repeating my life? Is that what you want? To live as I did? There’s no sin in falling in love with your heart and with your body, but wait till you’re old enough to love yourself first (406).

The grandmother miserably confesses to Lala that she told Zoila about Candelaria’s parentage because she “wanted [Lala’s] father for [her] own” (407). She begs Lala to forgive her, saying she needs to be understood. The grandmother protests that she’s not bad, but merely frightened of being alone. When Lala wonders how to make the grandmother’s perspective understood, the grandmother begins to tell her story (the same story that Lala narrates in Part 2).

Lala’s father begins to recover in the hospital. Her brothers reveal their plan to pool their resources and help their father start his own upholstery business where he can dedicate himself to “Custom, quality work” (412).

The whole family gathers for Zoila and Inocencio’s big 30th anniversary party. Even in the midst of their own anniversary party, the two of them comically fight about how things should be. It’s clear that these kinds of arguments are an essential (and permanent) part of their relationship dynamic.

Lala significantly shows up to the party wearing the grandmother’s caramelo rebozo as a symbol of the Reyes family (and the female legacy that has been passed down from generation to generation). 

At the party, Lala’s father presents her with a beautiful hairpiece he has made from her braids that were cut off many years ago, fulfilling a promise from long ago. Upon presenting her with this gift, he asks her to make a promise of her own: “Promise your papa you won’t talk [about what happened with Candelaria]. Ever. Promise” (430). Lala looks into her father’s face, “that face that is the same face as the Grandmother’s, the same face as [hers]” (430) and replies, “I promise, Father” (430).