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Marisol pouted as she listened to her parents talk during dinner. At first she thought they were planning a weekend away, but when she heard her name, she tried to get their attention.
They talked about sports that might suit her, completely forgetting to ask her about it herself. Skates, balls... tournaments...she didn't understand half the words.
"Mom?" Marisol tugged at her sleeve, drawing her attention to herself.
"Yes, honey, just a minute..." Ellie continued to list the pluses of rhythmic gymnastics: flexibility, agility, "...just imagine, no more accidentally broken mugs."
"Dad?" Marisol looked at her father, but he listened to her mother, and squeezed her little palm as if asking her to wait a little while. "Hmm, unbroken dishes? Is that all you have to offer? "
Marisol flared her nostrils and crossed her little arms over her chest pouting her lips. Everything they said seemed so boring: she wasn't interested in any of it. She squinted slightly and pushed her glass, spilling the juice on the table.
"Ah, Marisol!" Ellie pushed back in her chair as the juice started pouring down her pants. Nick jumped up, grabbed some paper towels and began wiping up the puddle that had formed on the table.
"Did you do that on purpose?" Ellie removed the dishes from the table: dinner was over.
Marisol nodded, continuing to smile slylyly, as if she wasn't afraid of being scolded now.
"Why?" Ellie threw up her hands: sometimes she didn't understand her daughter.
"You weren't listening to me..." Marisol pouted and poked her finger at the tablecloth, trying to make a hole in it.
"Baby?" Nick put the towels away and sat down beside her, pulling his chair closer.
"Well, Dad...I don't want to go to gymnastics..." Nick was ready to raise his hands victoriously to the ceiling, but she continued, "and I don't want to skate either!"
Nick and Ellie looked at each other. Her personality showed more and more as she got older, and Nick and Ellie teased each other every time, saying it came from him/her.
"Baby? What do you want then?" Ellie sat down on the other side of her daughter and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear pecking her forehead.
"Um...a guitar?"
"What? But..."
Nick rubbed his eyes tiredly, chuckling at the memory of the past week. The three of them were walking in the park, and near the entrance, a guy was playing his guitar, trying to make some money for himself or just to entertain people during the weekend. Marisol froze in front of him with her mouth open and watched as he plucked the strings with his fingers. They didn't think much of it at the moment, because their daughter never saw a live performance before. Who would imagine that the idea of mastering a musical instrument settled in her at that day?
"Okay...so tomorrow we go buy a guitar?" Nick smiled at them, already imagining the next months when she would just be mastering the basics and strumming the guitar, working out the calluses on her fingers.
"Nick? What guitar? She's the size of a guitar herself!"
"Ouch," Marisol stiffened, wide-eyed, almost ready to cry over the fact that her dream might be hindered by her small stature.
"Uh. Ukulele?"
"Hmm. Oh, boy...okay. Okay. Baby, did you hear what Daddy said?" Marisol nodded, completely oblivious to the tears, even though she had no idea what that culala meant...?
"Niiick...? Remember when you promised to make a room for her gym as soon as we picked something out?"
"Yep. I guess I'll have to do some good soundproofing in there?"
"You're my darling...love you..." Ellie squeezed his palm, and winked at him.
"Okay. Will you find her a tutor?"
"Sure. Well, kiddo, shall we go? Let's get you a tormentor..."
"Ha-ha, Mom! I promise I'll listen to him." Marisol hid her hands behind her back, and crossed her fingers, but her parents had learned her tricks long ago and only shook their heads.
Of course, it wasn't without her little antics. Her fingers hurt at first, slipping off the strings. The chords were hard to remember, and it took a long time to sit in one place, which for a six-year-old was complete torment.
"I don't wanna do it anymore, the guitar..." Marisol ran into her parents' bedroom early in the morning and snuggled up to her mother on the bed.
"Hey...what's wrong? Is Holly mean to you?"
"Nah...I'm not good...I'm not good at all." Marisol sobbed, hiding her face on her mother's pillow.
"Marisol, it's only been two weeks, after all. Do you think that guy learned everything in half an hour?"
"Uh-huh..." her daughter's muffled reply was heard through the pillow.
"It doesn't work like that, honey. You have to learn everything first. Once you couldn't walk at all, and now you're running so fast that your father can barely keep up with you. If you only knew how many times you've flopped on the floor after taking one or two steps, but you've kept stubbornly getting up and walking, laughing merrily, into our arms.
"Really?" Marisol sniffled, looking at her mother as if she didn't believe her.
"Of course it' true."
"Will Daniel learn to walk when he's born, too?"
"Daniel..." Ellie touched her rounded belly and stroked it, feeling a slight nudge and Marisol put her palm on top. "I think he'll be happy to have his big sister teach him how to walk when he's a year old..."
Marisol brightened at her mother's words, and smiled all over her mouth. "Am I going to be the best teacher?"
"Absolutely, baby."
Marisol sighed and hugged her mother's belly whispering that she was waiting excitedly for her baby brother. Ellie stroked her daughter's hair, mentally thanking God for such a miracle in their lives.
"...And I'll keep learning the chords... Once you're born, I'll play you a little song on my guitar... coolala..." Ellie chuckled: there was no way her daughter could get the correct title for the instrument, and she twisted that word every time, causing them to smile.
Marisol ran out of the bedroom, skipping back to her room where she continued to torment the strings. Ellie rubbed her temples, getting ready to hear such familiar sounds - Nick could not finish with a separate room for classes - maybe it's not too late to send her to the rhythmic gymnastics... But their daughter's dream and happiness are more important than their own ambitions. Who knows what their unborn son would want to do, but Ellie only prayed that it wasn't motorcycles, like Nick's.