At first, Aria thought that she had interrupted a party. Almost every inch of the house was crammed with men, women and children. When Pedro introduced her as his friend, they looked at her like he had brought her as the party entertainment. But it wasn’t a party. Most of them were relatives or friends living there, practically on top of one another. One of the older women got up to give her a seat and asked her if she was hungry. When she said no, the woman poured her a glass of orange Fanta soda. The men sat and stood around the couch, watching the players from Pumas and Veracruz scrimmage against the green of a soccer field. They cooled their nerves with cans of cheap Tecate beer. The women either watched the men or talked among themselves, cleaning around the muddle of people. The noise in the little house was deafening. The children ran around the house like bumblebees with nothing to pollinate. But there was a coziness to the chaos of it all.

The smell of the house was an assault on the senses, a masculine mix of sweat and paint and freshly cut grass on top of the smell of breaded chicken that had recently been fried. Despite her resistance to the intensity of it all, Aria loved the way the inhabitants seemed to suck up everyone around them into their festivities as if they had already been invited.

Pedro caught her staring at a bouquet of partially deflated balloons that had drifted into one corner of the room. “The kids like to play with them. Those are from my birthday. It was two days ago,” Pedro said. “What day is your birthday?”

Aria rolled her eyes, all too aware of the irony of his question. “Actually, it’s today!” she said.

Pedro put down his glass as if she had told him that the world as he knew it was about to change. “Hijole, no way, are you kidding me?” he said. Aria shook her head, embarrassed by his theatrics. “Hey, everyone … My friend’s birthday is today. Hoy es el cumpleaños de mi amiga, todos a cantarle.”

Like a conductor he raised his glass, and everyone in the room, including the children, stopped what they were doing to join the chorus. They sang to her in Spanish.

Estas son las mañanitas

Que cantaba el Rey David

Hoy por ser dia de tu santo

Te las cantamos a ti

Despierta mi bien despierta

Mira que ya amaneció

Ya los pajarillos cantan

La luna ya se metió.