The Lavender Envelope Zipping up her patchwork denim jacket, thirteen-year-old Carla kept her eyes glued to the ground as she walked home from school. The street had a few palm trees as decoration, but there wasn’t much else to look at besides concrete and cars. On some days, Los Angeles felt a world away from her mother’s native El Salvador that she had only heard about in stories. She dreamed of seeing a volcano or a Mayan temple like her mother had while growing up.

Carla made her way up to the fourth-floor apartment where her mother sat at the kitchen table counting out a pile of cash. Mrs. Reyes smiled at her daughter and pointed to a platter of pupusas sitting on the kitchen counter. Carla scurried over to grab two of the delicious cornmeal flatbreads and sat across from her mother at the kitchen table.

“Was it a good day at the restaurant?” Carla asked.

“Oh yes!” Mrs. Reyes gestured to the money, half of which she tucked away in a clean white envelope.

Carla was used to seeing those envelopes, six days a week whenever her mother returned home from her shifts as a waitress. She had probed her mother many times about what the saved money was for, but Mrs. Reyes just offered an enigmatic smile and shrugged her shoulders. So, Carla didn’t ask her mother about the envelopes on that day and disappeared into her bedroom to start her English homework.

***

One Year Later

The satin pink invitation was encased in matching tissue paper, and it was the most elegant object Carla had ever touched. Calligraphy in golden ink breezed across the page, announcing the quinceañera of Elisabeth, one of her best friends. Elisabeth lived in a house in a nearby neighborhood, and her parents owned the restaurant where Carla’s mom was a waitress. Rather than be envious that she would never have a gala celebration for her 15th birthday, complete with a ruffled designer dress and a waltz to dance with her father, Carla was happy for Elisabeth.

“Mama, the invitation for Elisabeth’s quinceañera came today—look how beautiful it is!”

Mrs. Reyes examined the card, turning it over in her hands and running her fingers over the satin backing. Then, she returned it to her daughter and announced, “I’m going to be taking on a dinner shift at work.”

“You mean instead of breakfast and lunch, you’ll work lunch and dinner?” Carla asked.

“No, I’ll be working all three shifts,” Mrs. Reyes answered with a sunny smile that made Carla want to cry.

“But Mama, that’s too much! You already work six days a week—maybe I can get a part-time job to help.”

The mother’s smile instantly faded. “No, I want you to focus on your studies so you can get a scholarship to go to college.”

Mrs. Reyes retreated to her bedroom, and Carla knew the conversation was over. Her mother would not permit any arguments, and Carla knew better than to disturb still waters.

***

One Month Before Carla’s 15th Birthday

Mrs. Reyes stumbled into the apartment at 10 pm after a 16-hour day at the café. She had begun working seven days a week, usually all three shifts, and it felt like she could never get enough sleep. On her days off, she kept busy with household chores, afraid that she might fall asleep and never wake up. Single-mindedly, she made a beeline for the top drawer of the kitchen counter, grabbing a white envelope and inserting a wad of cash.

“I made tea and scrambled eggs for you, Mama,” Carla emerged from the dark corner of the kitchen where the old stove chugged away.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Reyes said, accepting the plate from her daughter and sighing profoundly as she sat down in a wooden chair.

“Mama, I’m worried about you. I’m going to be 15 next month. Maybe now you’ll let me get a job?”

“If you get a job, I want you to save for your college education, not to help me pay the bills,” her mother snapped, biting into the eggs.

Carla thought of all the white envelopes that filled the apartment and how her mother hadn’t seemed to borrow money from any of them. Why did she continue to work such grueling hours when she had more than enough cash to pay the bills?

The next day, Mrs. Reyes had a rare afternoon off from work and was home when the mail arrived. Smiling secretly, she took the lace-woven lavender envelope to Carla’s bedroom where she was studying for a geometry quiz. Wordlessly, Carla took the envelope, its fancy design and feminine colors revealing that it was probably a quinceañera invitation. As she opened the envelope, she wracked her brain for which of her friends had a birthday coming up. Carla’s throat went dry and her eyes watered as she read the flowing pastel words on the satin-backed invitation:

Valentina Reyes cordially invites you to celebrate the quinceañera of her daughter, Carla.

Write the next scene between Carla and her mother—what do they say to each other?