The Set-Up by Elizabeth Sowden

Graciela strode out onto the stage wearing a black silk halter dress from Donna Ricco, which was a splurge, and a red silk rose pinned in her hair. She felt fabulous, ready to sing, and the band was ready to back her up through her entire set, covering every artist from Celia Cruz to Aventura. They were ready for whatever the crowd wanted—Salsa, Bachata, Merengue, Cha Cha, Rumba, Mambo, Cumbia—anything.

The lights were hot, and they lit up the flecks of pink body glitter that she’d dabbed on her chest. The crowd cheered when she wrapped her hand around the microphone. She smiled. The drummer counted off four beats and the group launched into Olga Tanon’s “Es Mentiroso” .

As Graciela sang, she scanned the crowd. Apart from the twirling dancers on the floor sat Roxie, alone, at a back table, scowling. Good old, faithful Roxie. Even though she never looked like she was having fun, and was probably hating everything, she was always there. Well, tonight was going to be different. Tonight Graciela was going to introduce Roxie to Javier, the new bass player in her band.

Javier had just recently moved to Jackson Heights from East Harlem. Javier was handsome, with a smile that boasted more wattage than Times Square, and with talent to boot. He taught music at Queensborough High, liked art museums, and had an amazing voice. Plus, with his shirt off, he looked like one of those Cosmo “eye candy” guys, with gym-sculpted muscles and a tattoo on his left arm. Graciela was tempted to keep him for herself, but she already had a semi-serious thing going on with Rickey, her brother’s best friend, and besides, Javier was perfect for Roxie. Now if only she could get Roxie to see that…

Later, when the band took its break, Graciela sat at a table near the stage and took off her shoes.

“That dress is hot,” Roxie said as she took a seat across from Graciela. “Is it
Baby Phat?”

“Gracias, mi Corazon,” Graciela smiled, “No, its Donna Ricco.”

“Well, you look great, as always, and sound great too.” Roxie paused, and then added, “I’m jealous. I have a Black halter Diane Von Furstenberg that makes me look like a complete cow.”

“Ay Dios, mami,” Graciela said rolling her eys “No me digas eso. You’re very hot for a white girl.” She winked and said, “There’s someone I want you to meet.” Before Roxie could protest, Graciela flagged down Javier and called him to come to their table.

“Roxie, this is Javier. Javier, Roxie.”

“Hi, Roxie,” Javier said, shaking Roxie’s hand.

“Hi,” Roxie said, returning Javier’s shake. Graciela saw Roxie smile, and though she couldn’t be sure—it was kind of dark—the smile didn’t seem entirely fake. Good, Graciela thought, maybe she’ll at least give him a chance.

“Javier teaches at Queensborough High,” Graciela said.

“Really? What do you teach?” Roxie asked.

“Music. And what do you do?”

“Roxie’s and editor,” bragged Graciela.

“Junior editor,” Roxie corrected.

“That’s cool. Where?” Javier said.

“Warden Books.”

“Cool. So do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked.

“Oh, take my spot!” Graciela chirped as she leapt out of her seat. Graciela walked away fast, her suede heels clacking against the floor. This might work, she thought, this just might work.

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Posted by Mirela Gluck at 04:39 PM
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