This story won third place in Dear Diary’s short fiction contest, Four Queens. The contest is part of a five month event series called X Y Zine.

Written by Elizabeth Wolensky-Gadea

From the moment her first daughter was born, she became Abuelita. Not a grandmother yet, but the transformation had begun. It was though Abuelita had never had another life, and though her next life had not yet begun either, by holding her own first child, she could feel it. Abuelita.

The only small problem was that Alicia María had come out blonde. A bit of a mystery next to her two dark haired parents. There were whispers, sideways glances at the occasional American who strolled by the house of the newborn, but Abuelita did not mind. This little girl was hers and her husband’s and no other’s. Despite the blonde or perhaps because of it she would continue on with the traditional nickname. Mi negrita, my little black one, she called the girl, as her mother had done with her. Though, she could not continue more - negrita borinqueña seemed out of the question. Still, maybe the blonde was nothing, really. Everyone on the island was a mixture, it was true. Somehow her daughter had mixed up rubia and Abuelita did not know how much of the island was in her. Perhaps her hair would darken in time, like her skin would darken under the sun.

A year or two passed and another daughter, María José, was born. Exactly like the first, but with the dark hair and skin of her parents, morena. Appropriate that she should share a name with her sister. Finally Abuelita felt comfortable with the full nickname, negrita borinqueña. Yes, this was her daughter of the island. The rumors of Abuelita’s infidelity also quieted with the birth of this second daughter. No one could deny now that the two girls were full sisters, and as the girls aged their similarities to both parents became increasingly apparent. Abuelita sighed a bit of relief. She could resume her focus fully on her primary task, raising two mothers.

These next years were wonderful for Abuelita. She loved her girls equally and fiercely, though more attention was also given to the elder sister. She’d need extra care to learn it all, Abuelita thought. Not the cleaning or other house tasks, but the food. The traditions of her mothers, they had to be passed down in her rubia with extra love and care that her morena did not need. The main way Abuelita would do this was through food. While María José was allowed to run the neighborhood, participate in sports, and take up other hobbies, Alicia María was home with Abuelita, learning the proper preparation for pernil, pounding out tostones, wrapping up pasteles.  

And yet, with all this sabor in her mouth, Alicia María still talked of America. It started briefly at first, and while the terror of these words was felt inside Abuelita, she ignored it. But Alicia María increasingly brought up the subject, and Abuelita knew she would have to face the desire head on. And maybe it wasn’t so strange. Lots of the women wanted to go to America. After all, Abuelita herself had met her husband there, in a cold upstate New York where the snow had driven them together on a particularly dark night. They made love on that night and for many nights after, and a month later were back on a plane for the island.  But Alicia María was persistent in a way that Abuelita had not seen among the other girls. “I want” became “I must” until one day Alicia María got on the plane and did not return for many years. There were phone calls, often if Alicia María could afford them, but day by day her voice was changing. Her once rapid Spanish slowed down just a bit, maybe not even enough for another Spanish speaker to hear, but Abuelita heard it in every word. She knew Alicia María would not be coming back to her in this life. 

She knew this even before Alicia María found a gringo to marry. When Alicia María declared her love for a man named Andrew, Abuelita still found happiness. For one, another major step towards Abuelita had been taken. With a man secured, a baby could not be far off. And as for the other part, she no longer had to hide the fact that Alicia María had left the island. Every girl leaves someday by marriage, does she not? Abuelita thought to herself. Alicia María had just left a little farther away. Abuelita had already endured the pain of this separation when Alicia María left the island, so now she did not have to endure it twice. And when Abuelita saw the photos of Andrew for the first time, there was a second relief. He was white, yes, but his hair was a jet black that surely left a lot of hope for the complexion of the children. 

It wasn’t until much after the wedding that Abuelita would finally take the trek back to America. To see her daughter, to meet her son-in-law, yes, but really for the moment she had been waiting for for so long. For the birth of her first grandchild. Abuelita insisted María José come as well, so the women of the family could be together once again. The two packed their bags and settled into Alicia María’s house a full month before Alicia María’s due date and waited with expectation.

Lena came into the world herself with a head full of black, thick hair which looked not unlike Abuelita’s own hair. And another miracle - for all of Alicia María’s time in America, she had never been exposed to American motherhood. Alicia María did not know American nicknames or cradle songs, and Lena easily became negrita borinqueña even though Alicia María had never been called the full name herself. As Abuelita stayed by her daughter’s side in the states and comforted her new mother’s fears, she began to believe that there was hope.

However, two days before Abuelita and María José were set to return to the island, Lena’s black hair fell out and was on the same day replaced by the blonde of her mother’s hair. The same day, María José declared that she was enjoying her time in America, perhaps Alicia María needed more help, and she would stay a little longer. Abuelita returned to the island alone. Perhaps she should not have found her husband in the states.