Penelope obeyed her father, and soon Spanish was reserved for birthday cards and Mother’s Day letters. When Penelope was a teenager, they fought in English, and Mirella always said the wrong thing. She felt Penelope had the upper hand, so she yelled and threw things—the phone, a comb, a plate—to keep up. Maybe that had been their problem. English was for Ralph and Brooklyn and the overly perfumed rich ladies whose houses she had cleaned; she was never meant to raise a daughter in some other tongue.
