"MIA! Yers iz nots supposed to be bringin dis babies in dis cafe!" Consuela screams above the lunchtime crowd.
I ignore her. I'm trying desperately to figure out how to change a diaper and the last thing I have time for is Consuela's self-centeredness.
"MIA! Yerz iz supposed to be helpings and yers iz not dis babies mader!" She yells through tears as she waves a spatula in the air while trying to take aim at my head.
"Consuela, shut the fuck up!" I yell back at her and return to trying to figure out which end of the diaper is up. "Why do they make this thing so symmetrical?" I say quietly to myself.
A moment later the spatula hits my head. Before I have time to react, Consuela waddles out from behind the counter.
A couple of patrons grumble. They're not used to not being served.
"Yers is supposeds to be ders," she points to behind the counter. "Not heres!" She wails and tries to slap me across the face. I hold the baby in place with one hand while swinging at Consuela with the other.
"Who bought you this cafe? ME! So get your fat ass behind the counter and make some lunches. You work for me -- not the other way around!" I yell back at her. Our eyes become locked in a heated debate. I refuse to back down. We stare until my eyes are two Styrofoam balls. I am not losing to Consuela. Not today. Not now.
The lunchtime crowd becomes more impatient and so I lean forward and flare both nostrils to let her know I mean business.
She backs away but continues to grumble loudly so everyone can hear. "Yers iz onlies sinkin of yerself alls de times!" Consuela whines as she slops some ground beef angrily onto a tortilla before handing the order over to the first person in line.
"All yers evers sinks about is MIA, but yers never wants to help da Conseula! Nevers!" She wails as she fries up some more fish tacos and hands someone their drink order. Eventually her wails become like annoying elevator music and I return my concentration to the diaper fiasco.
"This will have to do," I say as I take a chance that the correct way is the tape on the back of the diaper. The baby simply laughs. She thinks its funny.
I motion to Jim to trade places with me and a minute later I am back behind the counter beside a disgruntled Consuela who whips money from people's hands and slams the cash register with every transaction.
"Enough!" I snarl to her in a decibel only she can hear.
In the background I can see Jim rocking the baby to sleep and so, knowing she is fine for the moment, I decide to put Consuela in her place once and for all.
'"AAAAAAYYYAAAAH!" She screams as I grab her by her banana clip and slam her to the floor. I place her in a headlock while smiling politely to the customers closest to the counter who have a good view. When everyone seems reassured by my smile, I talk between my teeth so that Consuela knows I mean business.
"I will let go in a minute," I start but Consuela manages to elbow me, and a moment later I am winded and on the floor.
"Yers iz nots evers doings zat to mees agains!" She squeals as she grabs a handful of salsa and whips it at my face.
I ask the few remaining patrons to excuse us for a moment or two, to which they politely oblige, and grabbing the nearest ladle I whack Consuela over the head with it.
She falls.
Passed out, her eyes rolled back; I place my foot on her neck and hold her in place until she comes to. Eventually she stirs.
"This is how this is going to go." I begin to which she rolls her eyes as she tries to wrestle herself free from under my foot.
I apply more pressure.
She acquiesces.
"You are going to be nice. You are going to serve these kind people, and you are not going to give me a hard time. It is not all about Consuela anymore. Got it?" I say and apply a bit more pressure so she knows I am not joking around.
A minute passes as the patrons and I wait to see if the beast will settle. Inevitably she does by saying, "I gots it" before I allow her to stand.
I apologize to everyone in line and offer them a free meal and drink for waiting -- which they all accept. A harsh silence lowers the temperature of the air, but eventually Consuela and I slip into a subtle rhythm and room begins to warm.
When the last of the customers exit and the store is once again quiet I walk over to Jim, grab the baby, and place her in Consuela's arms. At first Consuela pretends like she doesn't care, but a moment later I notice her shoulders soften and the baby coos.
"See, she likes you. Try and be nice to her, ok?" I say as I readjust Consuela's banana clip and smooth down her hair. In the mirror I can see Consuela warming up to baby Hope and for a brief moment I savour the possibility that everything might work out fine -- despite the fact that I'm covered with salsa and bruises.
The moment is short lived when I realize that the diaper is not on correctly. Consuela quickly hands her back to me.
"Sorry," I say trying to hold back my laughter as diarrhea runs down Consuela's pleather pants.
"I iz no likes dis baby anymores," she tells me as she runs out of the cafe in tears. I try not to take it to heart that Consuela isn't adjusting as well as I'd hoped. I know it will take time, but since none of us have anything but time and an open road ahead of us I figure that we might as well keep trudging forward.
And so, asking Jim to man the cafe while I go and find Consuela to see if she's ok, I know that as long as I keep pressing forward with an open heart that everything will be fine.
"Right?" I say to Hope who confirms with a drool filled smile.
"Exactly," I tell her as I make my way down the hall towards a disgruntled Consuela who will definitely not be singing any Ricky Martin today.
