Page 77 of Wild Abandon

“Why are you doing this on your own? Did he say if he has family?”

I swirl my fork around my pasta. “He has a daughter who lives in San Francisco, but I don’t think they have a good relationship. She is sick or troubled of some sort. At first, I thought drugs, but now, I’m not so sure. I don’t ask. It’s a sore subject for him.” I ponder for a moment. “I don’t know how anyone could stay away from there.”

“Tell me about your family.” Nate snaps me out of my melancholy.

I wipe my mouth with a cloth napkin, unsure of where to start. So, I tell him about my parents, “Well, their names are Georgie and Melanie. They met at a rally in college where they found a mutual love of saving the world.”

I laugh to myself, thinking of how many protests my parents go to a year. They are like their own caped crusaders, saving the world one cause at a time. “My parents run a foundation for inner city youth. They didn’t think you could help inner city kids if you didn’t live in the city, so they moved to Manhattan at a time when people were fleeing. Crime was high, and drugs and homeless people were taking over the streets. I grew up on the Upper West Side, not far from Harlem. It was a good life. My brother and I spent our weekends in parks and at museums and shows. What we lacked in space, we gained in culture.”

“They sound very admirable. Do your parents still live there?”

“Oh, yes. They’ll never leave. People have offered them millions for their apartment, but they love where they are. They love what they do and the people they have surrounded themselves with.

“My mom has become quite the pillar of the community. She makes speeches all over, advocating for inner city development. Over the last thirty years, she has accomplished so much. I can’t see what else she could possibly need to change. But she always finds something.

“My parents care more about helping others than retiring in a sunny climate and playing golf all day. Anyway, the do-gooder gene skipped me.”

“You have a lot of your parents in you.” Nate leans his arm on the table, his body closer to me.

I look up at him in confusion. I am nothing like them.

“Russet Ranch was your way of fighting for something that was once neglected. You helped an old man who couldn’t help himself.” His intense green eyes focus on mine, holding my attention.

I want to argue with him, but he has so much conviction in his words that it’s hard to deny them.

“And you worked for a music school that provided free music education to children. You could have worked anywhere, and I’m sure you could have made a lot more money elsewhere. But you chose to be there, helping the less fortunate.”

I offer Nate a smile at his words. They are very sweet.

My mom told me about the position at the Juliette Academy. I know I could have worked somewhere else, but I did like the idea of helping kids who wouldn’t have the opportunity if we weren’t there to provide it.

“I often wonder if I’m flighty.” My admission is making my stomach rumble with unease. “I play the cello for a living but don’t take it as seriously as I should. I go on vacation by myself once a year. I date men but don’t stick around long enough to make a commitment. And when things weren’t going as planned, I quit my job and hopped on a plane to Napa on a whim.” Just saying the words out loud makes me sure I’m the flightiest person on the planet.

Nate’s hand moves to my chin and pulls my attention back to him. His warm skin sends tingles across my jaw.

“Hey, stop focusing on those things like they’re negatives. You’re an amazing musician who doesn’t need to make money. Traveling alone is amazing. You’re talking to someone who’s done it as well. You date because you haven’t met the right one. You only live once. Why waste it with the wrong person?”

His recitation of my words to him the first time we met leads me to smile into his hand.

“And moving here was bold. You needed to make a change. Some people sit in their lives, caged by the choices they made and the decisions someone else made for them. Hell, some people are trapped by fate.” His eyes skim his glass for a moment and then look back up. “Why don’t you focus on what you are committed to? What do you love?”

What do I love? Nothing. So many things. Everything. “I love my family. And I love my friends.” It’s an easy first answer. People are the most valuable to me. This might be the first time I’m truly realizing it.

“That’s all you need.” He releases his hold on me.

As gentle as it was, I feel the weight of its loss. I reach my arm across the table and grab his hand.

When Nate looks up at me, he lets out a deep sigh and starts to talk, “Crystal, you still haven’t told me how delicious my balls are.”

Thank God I didn’t have anything in my mouth because I would have spit it out with the large gasp I just took. I start coughing, holding my chest, while Nate leans over, laughing and patting me on the back.

He meant his meatballs.

When I recover and wipe away the tears that formed in my eyes from coughing and laughing and then coughing some more, I take a bite of my meatball. And, yes, his balls are indeed delicious.

We eat. We talk some more. We do that thing two people do when they are getting to know each other. We don’t do that thing where we just start listing our favorite movies and colors. We share experiences and discuss topics. A little religion, a little politics, a little pop culture. We agree on nothing yet see eye-to-eye on everything. Nate tells me more about the pub and some of the behind-the-scenes stories of Henley’s. I share tales of New York.

I can’t believe the man I’m sitting with is the same man I met that first day at Henley’s.