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¨No. I’ll be okay. Just wanted to help.¨
¨Nadia, we’re in a storm. There’s no need for you to help. If anything, I’ll be taking your advice and heading inside myself.¨
She gives me a perplexed look which is hard for me to decipher. Her mind is a web of racing thoughts.
¨But, I have to find some way to help.¨
¨Why?¨
She skims me over, unable to give me a fast enough response. She replies with a shrug and says, ¨Because I can’t leave it all for you to do.¨
It sounds as if we are a couple, or how I’d imagine a couple would be if they follow the fifty-fifty rule. I think it’s ridiculous and not that she’s treating this as if we are a couple but because she is trying so desperately to have a “purpose” at this moment. I want to tell her she can have the purpose of watching Adam, who is peering out the window with a troublesome look. But I don’t want to offend her, insinuating she needs to take care of the child. However, if she really wants to be helpful, she should be able to see her power lies in being inside with him.
¨I got this. Actually, let’s head in. I think I’m in over my head, assuming I can make this situation any better this fast. Today is destined to be a repeat of yesterday. Once I move a few things over, I’ll be in. Please, head inside.¨
She picks up her umbrella and replies with a firm nod. It appears she’s lived her life proving her worth, or maybe I’m looking too far into it.
It takes me another hour or more to finish up outside. I pull the small generator out of the shed. The gloomy natural daylight is fading as I spot several candles lit indoors through the windows. I wonder what sort of fun Nadia and Adam are up to. I hope to surprise Nadia with the presence of a generator. She mentioned hanging inside her rental Jeep to juice up her phone. As I bring the generator indoors, I smell the aroma of garlic and other seasoning and tense up. It’s shortly after two o’clock, and apparently, Nadia has been in my kitchen.
¨Dad!¨ Adam bustles toward me, dressed in his loungewear with a chef’s hat on his head.
¨What’s that smell?¨ I set the generator by the door and immediately stroll into our home’s opened pocket door.
¨We’re cooking dinner!¨ Adam exclaims with too much excitement.
¨What?¨
When I turn into the kitchen, I see Nadia outside the window, placing seasoned chicken thighs onto my grill. I scurry to the opened back door and swiftly close the screen door to prevent the home from swelling with toxic fumes. I’m stunned to see her on my patio, taking control of my grill. Her curls are shoved into a high bun that shows off her pretty neck. Little beads of sweat form along her neckline like a glistening necklace. Or maybe she’s fresh out of the shower? Either way, the nerve of her to make her way around my things shows an entitlement about her.
¨Nadia’s making us dinner. I helped show her where everything is.¨
At least Adam’s on her side.
¨You have a ton of food here, huh?¨ She asks me without making eye contact. Instead, she peers down low to see if the grill’s flame is sufficient enough. It is, but I keep myself from helping her.
¨The least I can do is thank you for giving me shelter by making you dinner.¨
She finally locks eyes with me. Her amber-toned beauties are hypnotizing. I remove my tension by pulling the wet poncho over and off me. I forgot I was still wearing it. I don’t need it as my patio is clearly covered, and the rain has settled into a light drizzle since Nadia left from trying to help.
¨As much I’ve been telling you to just be, and you come out here and get to work?¨
She gives me a docile shrug as if what I say compliments her hunger to ¨do¨ something rather than my criticism for her inability to simply be. This woman needs a vacation from her ego, her restlessness, or both.
¨Dad, I think it’s good to have a break from cooking.¨ Adam beams as he opens the small folding table on the patio.
I spot a Pyrex tray full of veggies next to a wooden cutting board and knife. All items sit on an outdoor chair until Nadia turns to place them on the folding table Adam opened. He’s like her little spud chef this entire time. I must say, this is adorable.
¨So, how’s your arm doing?¨
I shake out the wet poncho and place it in the patio’s corner.
Nadia begins chopping a zucchini. Her steadiness with the knife nips at my nerves as a wafty breeze tickles my upper lip.
¨Better. I think I’ve learned my lesson.¨
¨What lesson is that?¨
¨I have no business trying to live like a Midwesterner.¨
