“How are you going to be able to keep your letters straight? You know you have trouble with mixing up your letters sometimes, Momma.” Quantavianna looked up at Romina. Romina looked down into Quantavianna’s face. Romina was silent for a long time. She gently pulled Quantavianna’s arms from around her and gestured for her daughter to go back to the kitchen table. No one spoke and even the twins stopped their chatter as they realized the tension in the room had grown thick. Romina changed the subject.

“Quantenerra, I’m coming to your school this week to volunteer, OK?” Romina smiled big, thinking this was something to which Quantenerra looked forward. She saw the quick eye-to-eye exchange between Quantavianna and Quantenerra and instinctively knew she was wrong.

“Uh, I thought you were trying to get a new job,” Quantenerra said without looking at Romina. Romina could hear the anxiety in Quantenerra’s voice.

“I am,” Romina started slowing, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t have time to get involved in your school activities. Hey. Look at me.” Quantenerra reluctantly raised her eyes to her mother’s face.

“Yes, Mommy.” Quantenerra forced herself not to look away from Romina. Romina stared at her middle child. She knew why Quantenerra didn’t want her to volunteer in her class. Romina had heard the children snickering behind her back when she couldn’t help them with what seemed to be simple words and simple math problems. Romina was the only mother who volunteered but never read a storybook to the class.

Romina remembered the humiliation of trying to read a book to Quantavianna’s first-grade class a few years ago, and she let all her children’s teachers’ know that she’d be happy to volunteer her time but she would not be reading during storybook hour. It was a small school, and all the teachers were aware of why Romina didn’t want to read. They’d all accepted all the other help Romina offered and never pressed the issue about storybook hour.

The one thing her children’s classmates and teachers did love about her visits were the goodies she brought with her. Romina may not have been able to read or do math well, but she could cook any mother in her children’s school under the table. She didn’t use recipes. She just had a talent for cooking the most delectable dishes. This was the one class in high schol she had excelled in once she convinced the teacher to allow her to create her dishes without having to rely on recipes.

“If I can’t make it this week, you promise not to be dissappointed?” Romina watched Quantenerra surpress a smile.

“Yes, Mommy. I promise.” Quantenerra wondered if the relief showed on her face.

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