GuiTara (RE-WRITING)

🎵~9

"Oh."

"I was gonna make Papi get her some ice cream as a birthday present, but since he didn't show up..." she paused, her lips stretching into a smile.

"You want me to go get the ice cream?" I quizzed.

"Nope." She shook her head, grinning broadly. "I want you..." she started, touching my nose with her index finger, "...to sing a song for her."

"What?" I blinked, thinking she was joking, but when she gave me an expectant nod, I knew I had to pop that bubble. "Uh uh." I stood upright. "No way, Keke."

"C'mon, Auntie T," she pouted. "You sang at Granny K's birthday party last year. Why can't you sing a song for Paula?"

"Because... that was a family gathering, not a public gathering." I gestured towards the noisy playground. "I've never sung in front of strangers before."

"Papi always says there's a first time for everything," Keke persisted.

"That doesn't apply to me. Now, go get your backpack."

"No!" She stomped her foot again. "I'm not leaving until you sing for Paula!"

I stared wide-eyed at my niece. Despite looking more like Nando in her facial appearance, I could still see Pam in Keke. With that commanding posture, the determined look in her eyes, and the passion to have everything go her way, Keke was literally a miniature version of my older sister. And knowing my sister fully well, the only way to get her to cooperate was to give her what she wanted.

I rubbed a hand over my face, sighing, "Can't we just go with the ice cream plan?"

"Nope," my niece replied with a cheeky grin. "The ice cream plan was for Papi. You have to sing, or we're not leaving."

Wow, Tara. You're being manipulated by a five-year-old, my subconscious chimed in.

Ignoring the comment, I pressed on, "What about money? You can give it to your friend to buy anything she wants." My hand latched onto my purse.

A thoughtful look touched her features at the sight of the money in my hand. "Hmm, I don't think Paula needs money. But you can give it to me." She attempted to snatch it, and I lifted the money higher.

"I'll give it to you if you drop the singing plan."

Her hand went back to her side. "No."

"Crap," I mumbled. Just like that, we were back to square one. For a five-year-old, Keke was too clever. I wondered how her parents were able to put up with her.

"C'mon, Auntie T. It won't take long," Keke pouted, puppy dog eyes and all. "Just one song, and that's it."

"One song?" I asked.

"One song." She lifted her tiny index finger.

I rubbed a hand over my face again. Can't believe I'm doing this. "Fine. Where's your friend?"

"Yay!" Keke beamed. "C'mon, let's go."

My little niece grabbed my wrist, leading me back to the playground.

The number of children had dwindled, and so did the noise. Parents must have come for their little troublemakers.

Keke took me to the back of the playground, behind the slide house, where a red-headed little girl sat on the grass, hugging her knees with her face buried in her arms.

Keke walked over. "Paula?"

When she lifted her head, my heart broke.

"Oh, sweetheart..." Tears mixed with the snot on her small freckled face. Her doe eyes were bloodshot, and her entire nose was red. Guilt welled up inside me all of a sudden. If I had just said ok when Keke asked me to sing for her, we would've been here sooner, and she wouldn't have cried this much.