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I’mupatfive,and the rain is still going. This sounds like a prank. The best thing is knowing the day will provide us with natural light, but I can’t even brew coffee except by heating a tin of it up on my mini solar stove.
By the time Adam is up, he’s making a fuss over the breakfast.
“You made all this?”
His eyes get large studying the tray of crispy bacon, smoked salmon, bagels, and eggs with fruit. I’m a food hermit. I have a full freezer of goods in the basement. After covid hit, I went wilder than most big-city liberals.
“Good morning. Wow! This is a lot of food.” Nadia enters dressed to go, her bag on her shoulder. Her lips shine with gloss.
After scanning the kitchen table, she twirls around and peers out the side window. It doesn’t grant her enough view to determine if she can leave.
“I’m going to check the window in front.” She slides the pocket door and disappears into the cafe.
I ended up upsetting her last night. I feel bad. I was genuinely curious why she chose to drive on her own. Of course, I’m a sexist Missouri boy. Hey, maybe I have a few things to learn. I’m okay with being wrong. I also get over things quickly. Seems like I can’t say the same for her. She comes back wild-eyed and looking emotionally hurt.
“There’s another tree down. And right after, my grandma told me I may be stuck here for days.” There goes her knuckle on her forehead again. She rubs it because I’m sure it relieves stress.
“Dad thinks I won’t be going to school this week,” Adam adds more complication.
“At the worst.” I clarify before adding, “Sorry. I plan on chopping a couple of trees to see if I can make room for you.”
“I’m no princess. You don’t need to do that.” Her tone is sharp, like a reporter on edge.
“Well, it is my plan.”
She tugs at her loose curls that fall past her bosoms, and her eyes gloss over me in sadness yet relief. She may say she’s not a princess, but I have a hunch that Ms. Nadia is granted most things she wants.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.
“For what?”
“For being an inconvenience.”
“The weather is the inconvenience, not you.” I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth.
“No need to be too somber when there’s plenty of food,” I add.
She blinks, takes a deep breath, and pushes out a smile.
“Are you used to being an inconvenience?”
I have to ask. Something needs to make her snap out of the blues. If she’s going to be stuck here with me, I prefer her to be happy. I want to make those pretty eyes light up.
Adam looks up at her as he fills his plate. He, too, wants to know.
“No.” She answers sharply, refusing to acknowledge my sarcasm.
I give her a moment, along with a hot cup of coffee. And soon enough, she’s seated at the round table laughing with Adam about what exactly is in an everything bagel.
“Maybe sauerkraut and green beans?” Nadia mentions.
“Or hummus and grilled cheese?”
“Actually, that may not be too bad.” She ponders as I realize she has completed her breakfast plate.
I reach for it. The closer I am to her, my heart rate picks up. It could be my nerves, worried she may find something to complain about, or it could be something different. Something more tender…because it feels tender. I think Nadia may have been an inconvenience to important people in her life. There’s a wound there; I can feel it. Perhaps a bit of care is required, care that she deserves.
¨Thank you. That was really good. Especially the chive sour cream. Did you make that yourself?¨
