#pamela carme | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

readingwiththereids · 1 year ago

Text

yanda! speaks: hi angels! i just wanted to come on here and say thank you for the overwhelming support i’ve gotten from everyone following cam&carm’s story. you’ve all made writing and posting on here a lot more enjoyable and i really appreciate it. this is the longest chapter i have written so far so i hope that it’s not too much. about 7 chapters left before we move on to season 2! lots of love and light! 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 5

2022

The dreadful sound of Camila’s alarm sounded through her bedroom as the clock read 3:30. Pushing off of her mattress, she silenced it and slugged towards the bathroom. Today was the day of La Fame’s annual gala, where the food magazine company would invite all of their employees and their respective partners to dress up, drink and have a good time. Considering that Camila had never dated anyone since getting pregnant with Emelia, she always went to the event alone, rather deciding to spend her time catering at least one small dessert for it as it kept her busy but didn’t take too much of a toll on her. This year was no different as she was making about 500 tiny lemon cheesecakes that her coworkers had previously commended her for when she brought them to a strategy session once.

“Te quiero, mamá. And don’t forget to take Emmy to daycare before work, okay?” She whispered into her sleeping mother’s ear before kissing both her and Emilia goodbye.

The sky was still dark and the air was brisk as she walked the short commute to the bakery where she worked part-time, dragging along all of her ingredients in a large garden cart. She had asked the owner, Penelope if she could use the kitchen that day to prepare for the gala as they were always closed on Fridays. However, when Cam walked into the shop, she was shocked to see that the lights were on.

Walking further into the room, she saw a plump, older woman with black hair tied back to reveal the permanent scowl on her face. Pamela.

Pam wasn’t necessarily a worker at the place but she was always hanging around as Penelope’s sister-in-law that only ever got in the way. She’d watch Camila over her shoulder and even attempt to change recipes despite being reprimanded for it by every employee there. She’d try make her own recipes and give them to customers which always just resulted in bad reviews and mandatory refunds, she had no idea what she was doing. And yet she was here. Aggressively whisking something in a bowl and pacing around the kitchen that was covered in dozens of different ingredients that definitely would not taste good together. The kitchen’s workbenches were blanketed by multiple cookbooks, utensils and empty boxes, with nowhere for Cam to put her things.

“Uh, hey Pam. What are you doing here?”

“Baking, what do you think?” she replied with a certain irritation in her voice that told Camila that her recipe was already not going her way.

“Right, of course. It’s just, I already asked Penelope about a week ago if I could use the kitchen today to make something for an event I’m going to.”

“And that’s my problem, how?”

Camila was growing irritated. “It’s your problem because I booked this space and you’re hogging it with whatever disgusting potion you’re trying to concoct.”

“Excuse you? My brother pays for this building, so I will do as I please. Now you can grab your things and get out of my kitchen, young lady.”

The younger girl stood in shock for a second before turning around and walking out the backdoor, whispering curses under her breath.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You old piece of shit, fuck!” she huffed, kicking a dumpster in the alleyway which spread a sharp sting through her toe. “Ow, fuck!”

Camila didn’t know what to do. She had to make half a thousand stupid little cakes by six that evening and she had nowhere to do it. A thought crossed her mind and as much as she tried to push it away, it seemed like the best option and so she pulled out her phone from her back pocket. He probably didn’t even have the same number anymore and she doubted that he was awake but it didn’t hurt to try, right?

“Hello?”

Shockingly, she was greeted by an especially chipper and conscious voice.

“Hey! Carm, uh, I’m so sorry to call you so early.”

“It’s cool, are you…okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just, I know it’s short notice but is there any chance that I can use The Beef’s kitchen for a couple of hours today?”

“Yeah, actually, we’re not open today to cut down on labour hours, or at least I think that’s what Syd said. So, yeah you can come by. What do you need to do?”

“Make 500 mini cheesecakes by 6 PM.”

A beat.

“Do you need help?”

^^^^^^^^^

“So then she was like ‘My brother pays for this building, so I will do as I please.’ and actually kicked me out!”

“Are you kidding? Jesus, she sounds like a bitch.”

“She is, trust.” Camila laughed along with Carmy as they poured the cheesecake mixture into each of the tiny crusts.

After their phone call, Carmen rushed to shower and meet Cam at the sandwich shop in thirty minutes. They had been baking together for hours, catching up and listening to each other’s playlists. Camila had felt a little weird though about not being able to tell him about the biggest aspect that had taken over her life since she last saw him in New York, motherhood. They had been cracking jokes and engaging in banter for the past couple of hours but the conversation always conveniently avoided the topic of why she left. Carmy knew that he should probably be madder at her, more hurt. After she left, he was broken for a long time and because of that, refused the possibility of ever being with someone again. But she was Camila, he knew she would have never done that without a good reason and that was enough for him.

A phone pinged from the counter.

“Sydney forgot her knives so she’s coming here to get them in a few, by the way.”

“Oh, great!” she smiled. “She seems like a nice girl, driven.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t exactly let up. Once she’s set her mind to something, it’s difficult to slow her down.”

“Yeah, she reminds me of you.” Cam chuckled, making eye contact with Carmy from across the workbench.

“Oh yeah?” he laughed.

“Yeah.” She finished her batch of cheesecakes and both of them moved to stack them in the oven before going back to clean up.

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice travelled from the front of house to the kitchen.

“Chef, come in. We’re in here.”

“We?” she questioned before seeing Camila grab a bunch of dirty bowls with the intent of going to wash them, but not before hugging the confused girl first.

“Hi, Syd. How have you been?”

“Hey, Cam. Good, how are you?” Her eyes bounced between Camila’s retreating figure and Carmy’s slightly red face as Sydney’s knowing smirk made him feel like he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“On edge, constantly. But surviving nonetheless.” Cam laughed before settling into her station at the sink.

“So, what are you two doing? Alone?” She laughed in a hushed tone as Carmy’s face grew more red.

“What are you-what do you mean? I’m just helping her bake for a gala she’s going to later.”

“Right.”

“Aren’t you here to get your knives, Chef?”

“You’re no fun, Chef.”

“What up, lizards?” Richie’s voice boomed as we waltzed in through the backdoor. “Yo, where is everyone?”

“Cousin, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here to work, cuz. What else?”

“Richie, we’re closed today,” Syd interjected.

“What?”

“It was in the email that I sent everyone.”

“I don’t check my email, Sydney. I’m not a fucking loser.”

“You sure?” Camila quipped, prompting Richie to turn around and finally notice her.

“Mini? What are you doing here?” he smiled while ruffling her curls, which made her turn to splash soapy water at him.

“Why do you call her ‘Mini’?” Sydney asked.

“‘Cause she’s like a carbon copy of Tina, but smaller. Mini Tina.” he shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before turning to the girl in question. “But like actually, what’re you doin’ here?

“Carm was helping me make some cheesecakes for my work gala tonight.” she replied, turning back to the sink to get a particularly tough stain off of a spoon.

“Oh really?” Richie turned in the direction of Sydney and Carmen, mirroring the former’s smirk and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Alright, both of you, get the fuck out.” The latter finally spoke as he ushered the two out of the kitchen.

Carmy shoved the bag of knives from the counter into Sydney’s hands before shouting a bye and slamming the door in their faces and walking back into the kitchen, not before hearing a “They’re definitely gonna bone.” from behind it.

When he reentered, Camila had finished washing the dishes and moved to mopping the floors with a slight smirk on her face. Ignoring this, however, he cleared his throat and started to wipe down the counters. Just then, a song from Carmy’s playlist sounded from the speaker sitting on the shelf, ‘My Song’ by Labi Siffre.

Both of them froze up at this, pausing their actions immediately. At first glance, one could easily see the effect that this song had on them but what they wouldn’t know was the extent of how special to them it was.

And I wonder

If you know what it means

To find your dreams come true

The melody had seen countless moments of Camila trying to teach Carmy to slow dance, half-naked in the living room.

And sometimes you don’t hear me

But you don’t have to be near me

To know that I’m singing

Trying each other’s new recipe ideas and laughing together when they failed.

This is my song

And nothing can make it die

And innocent showers filled with washing each other’s hair while mouthing the lyrics against one another’s lips.

That as long

As I live

I will sing my song for you

As the song ended, the two realised that their bodies had subconsciously forced them to face one another, and there they stood. Eyes locked from across the room and sad smiles pasted onto their faces. They stood there as such for a long time before finally being snapped out of it by the timer of the oven. As they both realised what just happened, they rushed to get the small desserts out of the oven without words before transferring each of them to cooling racks.

“So, uh,” Camila broke the silence first. “I was thinking. Since you were so helpful today, if you wanted to reap the benefits of that and maybe come with me to the gala? As my plus one.”

“I mean, I normally go to these things alone so I was just thinking I’d switch it up a bit.” she laughed nervously before looking up at Carmen, who had a completely dumbfounded look on his face but said nothing.

“God, never mind, I’m sorry. That was stupid-”

[Wait, Cam. No, that’s not what I-]

[-and weird, I’m sorry. Of course, you don’t want to, I-]

[-just didn’t want you to feel like you had to just because-]

[-don’t know what I was thinking. I just-]

“Camila!”

The curly-haired woman swiftly stopped rambling.

“I would love to go with you.”

“Really?” she asked as a smile spread across her face.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Actually, it starts at seven but I have to be there a little earlier so I’ll pick you up at 6:15?”

“Yeah.” he smiled shyly.

“Cool.”

^^^^^^^^^

Camila smoothed out her dress as she stared at herself in the mirror. She donned a strapless, pastel green dress with floral embroidery that seeped from the top of the dress, topped with gold jewellery. Her hair was clipped up into an elegant bun on top of her head and a few curls were left out to frame her face. She felt beautiful, desirable even. There was nothing necessarily promiscuous about her appearance, other than the high slit of the skirt, but for the first time in a while, Camila actually felt attractive. After having Emilia, her body expectedly went through many changes and it took her a while to recover a healthy relationship with her figure and now here she was. Not just glancing at her form to avoid scrutinising it too much but actually looking at it. She felt proud.

Her phone pinged from her bed as she moved to read it.

[Camila]

Do you even have a suit, Berzatto?

Read

[Carmy]

I can’t believe you would even ask me that.

(I just borrowed one from Chi-Chi)

The brown-skinned girl laughed at this before hearing a small voice from below her.

“Wow! Mama, you look so pretty!” Emelia giggled as she looked up at her mother in awe.

“Awh,” Camila fawned, picking the toddler up. “Thank you, princess. You’re so sweet.”

“Oh, cariño. You look beautiful.” Tina said from the doorway. Quickly, the younger woman noticed the tears in her mother’s eyes.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mija. It’s just that your father would be so proud of you. He was always dreaming big for your future, he would have loved to see you now. Practically running one of the biggest magazines in the world, still finding time to stay with your passions, and raising the most extraordinary, gentle child that I have ever met. This is what he wanted for you, Camila. All he wanted was for you to be happy like this.”

Malik Dominic Ivy was thirty-two when he died in a drunk driving accident. He died just a month before Camila was born which meant that she never got to meet her father. This fact also meant that Tina had to take on the responsibility of raising a newborn while simultaneously grieving the love of her life. Expectedly, this caused some strain between Cam and her mother during her childhood rooted in the latter’s trauma, before she finally grew to understand how difficult and painful it must have been for the older woman to have to take care of a baby that reminded her so deeply of the man she had recently lost.

Camila’s main knowledge of her father stemmed from the stories that her mother would tell her, of romantic dates, funny incidents and more. It was through them that she felt as if she understood her dad and how much she meant to him. Even before she had developed a heartbeat, she was all he thought about. What she would achieve, how she would grow, how she would love, he thought of it all. When Camila thought about her own daughter, her mind would often shift to Malik. She would frequently doubt the decisions she made regarding Emilia’s relationship with Carmen. Was it really fair for her to keep the child from him when she knew what it was like to be robbed of time with her own dad? The first time she had that thought, she concluded that it wasn’t and picked up the phone to search him up and call. However, when she saw that Carmy had recently received an award for his work, it stopped her in her tracks. She remembered why she couldn’t do that to him and put down the phone. Even so, the entire thought broke her heart.

Cam brought her free hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes as she cried softly in her mother’s arms.

“I’m so sorry that you never got to meet him, mi corazón. Sé que no es justo, lo siento.”

[I know that it isn’t fair, I’m sorry]

The young girl pulled back after collecting herself to see that the small child in her arms had also begun to tear up.

“Bear, what’s wrong?”

“You guys were crying and it made me sad.” Emmy said, beginning to cry more while attempting to dry her mother’s tears.

“Aw, hun.” Camila mumbled into her hair after kissing it.

Tina took the toddler from Cam’s arms before speaking. “I’ll make sure that she’s okay. Finish getting ready and fix your makeup.”

“Have a great time, Camila,” she continued. “And tell Jeff to have you back by 11.”

As the two walked out of Camila’s room, she heard Emmy’s voice ask her grandmother a question.

“Who’s Jeff?”

yanda! speaks (again): gang, now i know i said we'd be back to regular programming but i'll probably only be able to post 3 more chapters this week and then i'll be offline for a couple of days on a team building retreat. i'll try do a little double update for y'all when i'm back, though. i'll also be taking a small break before i start writing season two but i already have some pretty big ideas for that one so don't give up on me! alright, love you!

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback @janoskiansecondsofdirection @thatonedogwithablog @kravitzwhore @iiheartbowie @doodlebob-mp3

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x oc #jeremy allan white #alisha boe

36 notes · View notes

bookolica · 4 years ago

Photo

Inolvidables. Grandes autoras que escriben para los pequeños

Luise Berg-Ehlers Traducción de Rosa Pilar Blanco Barcelona: Maeva Ediciones, 2018

¿Existe algo más emocionante y divertido que regresar al país que hace mucho tiempo hubo que abandonar por hacerse mayor? ¿Hay algo más melancólico que saber que solo se puede regresar al país abandonado por medio de la lectura de aquellos libros que crearon dicho país?

El creciente interés que despierta la literatura infantil y juvenil (LIJ) y la visibilización de mujeres escritoras de todos los tiempos se justifica por la proliferación de publicaciones y estudios recientes en este sentido. En este panorama tan esperanzador y que tan buenos frutos está cosechando últimamente destaca Inolvidables. Grandes autoras que escriben para los pequeños, de Luise Berg-Ehlers. Un ensayo divulgativo de una autora que tiene experiencia como profesora de educación secundaria y también ha realizado investigaciones en el ámbito de la pedagogía y en la literatura alemana e inglesa.

En Inolvidables nos ofrece un recorrido por las principales obras y los personajes más destacados de la LIJ desde el siglo XIX hasta nuestros días. La estructura del libro se compone de cinco capítulos precedidos por una introducción y se cierra con un epílogo al que sigue una valiosa bibliografía, tanto de las fuentes consultadas como de las obras citadas. Las autoras y obras de cada capítulo se justifican por una agrupación temática de gran diversidad lingüística y territorial. Tras unas pinceladas biográficas de cada escritora, se destacan los elementos más relevantes de sus obras más paradigmáticas y su evolución en el ámbito literario, siempre ligada a lo personal, con imágenes de ellas mismas y de sus personajes.

La introducción apenas ocupa cuatro páginas, pero es más que suficiente para demostrar la admiración de la autora de este volumen hacia Astrid Lindgren y su Pippi Calzaslargas. Toda una declaración de intenciones que demuestra la fascinación de Luise Berg-Ehlers por todo lo que representa esta entrañable niña: la libertad y la capacidad de vivir en la fantasía más extrema.

En el primer capítulo, “Sobre las niñas pequeñas y mayores”, se traza la trayectoria de cinco escritoras y sus obras clave. Las escogidas son: Mujercitas de Louisa May Alcott, Papaíto piernas largas, de Jean Webster, La benjamina, de Else Ury; Heidi, de Johanna Spyri y Celia, de Elena Fortún. Las cinco jóvenes protagonistas (destacamos a Jo March de entre las cinco hermanas) tienen en común la rápida transición de la niñez a la vida adulta gracias a su determinación y fuerte personalidad. Otro punto en común es que todas, excepto Heidi, tienen inclinaciones literarias y les gustaría dedicar su vida a escribir.

“Los pequeños adultos” es el capítulo siguiente. Ahora es el turno de siete chicos y chicas de otras siete autoras que destacan por su gran madurez, inconformismo y osadía. Nos encontramos con Cedric (el pequeño lord a imagen y semejanza del hijo de Jean Webster, la autora), la soñadora Ana de las Tejas Verdes, Pippi Calzaslargas y también con Anna (la niña que vivió en tres países diferentes sin olvidar nunca que Hitler le robó su conejo rosa). En el caso de la alemana Christine Nöstlinger no se decanta por ningún personaje o libro en particular porque todos tienen en común salir adelante por ellos mismos a pesar del autoritarismo de los adultos. Con Paulina, de Ana María Matute, nos recuerda que la premiada con el Premio Cervantes insistió siempre en que nunca escribió para niños. Y de Carme Solé Vendrell nos dice: “Carme, de niña, sintió el deseo de salvar a su madre (enferma de tuberculosis) y no lo consiguió”, por eso plasma en Juan, su personaje más emblemático, este mismo deseo que ahora sí tiene un desenlace feliz.

En el tercer capítulo, “Vidas extraordinarias”, se dan cita las aventuras más fascinantes. Como afirma la autora de este volumen: “Las aventuras no siempre requieren arco y flechas, fusil Henry y rifle adornado con tachones de plata, ni tienen que transcurrir en países lejanos o en alta mar. Con un poco de imaginación se pueden descubrir y describir aventuras que ocurren en la puerta de casa”. No será el caso de Nils Holgersson, que recorre toda Suecia a lomos de su pato doméstico Martin. Ni tampoco el de los cinco primos que con el tren y las bicicletas se desplazaban hasta los lugares más bellos de la amada Inglaterra de Enid Blyton. Y en este sentido también tenemos a Erika Mann, la hija mayor de Thomas Mann, que era tan aficionada a viajar que decidió reflejar su pasión en un libro no traducido al español (Stoffel fliegt übers Meer) en el que un niño llamado Christof, pero a quienes todos conocen por Stoffel, viaja hasta América como polizón en un zepelín.

En cambio, sí que se pueden catalogar como aventuras cotidianas las peripecias de los protagonistas de Edith Nesbit en Los chicos del ferrocarril o Los buscadores de tesoros. Ponen punto final a este tercer capítulo tres escritoras más, Joan Delano Aiken, Ana María Machado y María Teresa Andruetto. Si la primera sitúa en el siglo XIX la historia de dos niñas a cargo de una intrigante institutriz que desea apoderarse de la fortuna de las dos pequeñas tras la ausencia de sus padres, en Los lobos de Willoughby Chase de la brasileña Ana María Machado sucede todo lo contrario. La visión afectiva, más que pedagógica, es la clave para entender Bis Bea, Bis Bel, donde el autoconocimiento y la búsqueda de la identidad solo se entienden a partir de la relación imaginaria que establece la niña con su bisabuela y su bisnieta. Y Stefano, de María Teresa Andruetto, funciona como recopilatorio de temas tan diversos como el viaje, el aprendizaje y el contacto con la cultura propia como transformación y construcción de la propia identidad hacia la madurez.

Nos adentramos en la indagación de la fantasía en entornos reales en el cuarto capítulo, titulado “Mundos fantásticos”, donde se nos advierte del asombro que provoca la irrupción de lo sobrenatural en la vida cotidiana. No es extraño, pues, que se incluya a autoras como Pamela L. Travers con su Mary Poppins; ni tampoco a Ursula K. Le Guin, considerada la embajadora de historias sobre magia, encantamientos y magos poderosos. Es el momento de hablar de magia en estado puro, y por eso es imprescindible citar El pequeño caballo blanco de Elizabeth Goudge, que inspiró a J.K. Rowling en su serie sobre el mago Harry Potter y que es la siguiente en ser analizada. De esta última, Rowling, se destaca la gran popularidad de su saga gracias a una gran campaña de publicidad, donde no faltan aventuras de internado, juegos de magia, romance y la lucha del bien contra el mal.

De la escritora alemana Cornelia Funke pone en valor su disciplina a la hora de escribir, que tiene como resultado la creación de universos poblados por dragones y otros seres fantásticos que se han adaptado al cine. Su negativa a seguir las directrices editoriales la llevaron a fundar su propia editorial, y eso, en los tiempos que corren, indica la buena salud de la LIJ y la autoconfianza de una autora en su capacidad creativa.

Cierran este cuarto apartado dos poetas en lengua española: Gloria Fuertes, de la cual se dice que no tuvo una vida fácil, pero sí que se la tomó con mucho humor; y María Elena Walsh, que nació en Argentina en medio del caos y la incertidumbre provocados por la Gran Depresión. El éxito de sus primeros poemas le valió a María Elena una beca que le concedió Juan Ramón Jiménez en la universidad de Maryland, y su tensa relación con el poeta español le hizo replantearse incluso dejar de escribir poesía. De nuevo, de Gloria Fuertes cabe señalar el éxito que alcanzó debido a sus dotes de actriz y que incluso llegó a eclipsar a otros poetas coetáneos.

El quinto y último capítulo, “Bestias y otros seres queridos”, se centra en animales domésticos, como el caballo de Anna Sewell en Belleza negra y el travieso conejo de El cuento de Perico, de Beatrix Potter. Además de los animales imaginarios de Tove Jansson en Los Mumin y el grupo formado por un oso, un conejo y un perro en Los compañeros, de la brasileña Lygia Bojunga. De este apartado hay que hacer hincapié en que si bien el acierto de Anna Sewell fue alcanzar la fama con un solo libro, a Beatrix Potter le debemos todo un universo cercano con los animalitos que poblaban su jardín y que imaginó como sastres, bondadosos vecinos y el conejito más atrevido e intrépido de su camada, que tuvo un trágico final.

Por último, en el “Epílogo” encontramos una valiosa interpretación de todo lo expuesto hasta ahora, y se subraya la gran transcendencia de la escritura, que supuso autonomía, libertad y poder adquisitivo a unas mujeres que decidieron escribir como medio de vida:

La situación de precariedad social, que inducía a las mujeres a «empuñar la pluma», era frecuente y estaba desencadenada por la muerte del padre o del marido, lo que obligaba a las mujeres a encargarse de los hijos en solitario.

Esta excepcionalidad supuso el privilegio de poder disfrutar de sus obras, que tienen bien merecida la consideración de clásicos y, sobre todo, la configuración de una «habitación propia». Un término que, nos recuerda Luise Berg-Ehlers, acuñó la sueca Selma Lagerlöf, la primera mujer en recibir el premio Nobel, pero que se suele atribuir a la norteamericana Virgina Woolf.

En definitiva, un libro que resulta de mucho interés para docentes, escritores, investigadores y todo aquel interesado en la LIJ. Queda demostrado que el camino recorrido por todas las escritoras reseñadas, y otras muchas que no aparecen, es todo un ejemplo a seguir y por ello este tan gran merecido homenaje. La literatura, no solo la LIJ, tiene mucho de sueño, reivindicación y lucha social que conviene emular y nos recuerda a una frase de Quino en boca de su, también inolvidable, Mafalda: «No hay que ser prisioneros de nuestro pasado, sino arquitectos de nuestro futuro».