“Buenas días, Senora. ¿Cafe o te?” A server in a loose-fitting lilac uniform held a small wooden tray. “¿Y pan dulce?”
“Oh, buenas días. Sí, gracias.” Lupe’s brain quickened, and she stammered with a reply. The delicious aromas from the tray filled Lupe’s senses. She stood in the door wearing her Wave T-shirt and sweatpants, her hair jumbled. “Sí, sí, por favor.” She recalled the sound of Spanish from her childhood mornings when Mama sang “Las Mañanitas.”
“¿Las Olas, sí, Senora?” The woman with the tray commented on her T-shirt. Smiling, she turned to leave before Lupe thought to offer her a tip.
“Espera.” Lupe dug into her backpack for a Waves key chain, a trinket the players carried to trade with the Mexican squad. “Gracias.” She held out the souvenir, and the server broke into an enormous grin and hurried out of the room.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.