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“Of course, that beautiful baby inside is.”
I shrug and admit it’s best, to be honest.
“My agent called me today.”
Nonna’s eyebrows peer up. I told her about my dilemma and understood how my grandmother became such a fabulous actress. The many times her face has shifted could make a pretty funny comic strip. She was surprised, excited, bewildered, frightened, and angry as I finally ended by telling her about my Pros and Cons list.
“I think it’s time to make a choice.”
“What are you thinking, Nonna?”
“I think you need to accept this new trajectory of your life. Period. The end.”
“So?”
“Nadia! You are still so young. You can return to journalism in two years. In a year. So what if someone else tells the Khan’s creepy story. I’d be frightened about my own security if I were you.”
My heart races as I hope she will fall in the middle. I hoped she would understand every angle and copy my confusion. But Nonna is sincere here.
“Big dreams took me away from real dreams. I’m a perfect example of that. All I have is my big dreams accomplished. Real dreams, like love and children...I feel like I made up not being a mother to your mom by being a mother to you. And, since that’s more like it…as a mother or Nonna, I am advising you, my darling. To respect your heart. Stop letting that ego run it amok.”
She slams her hand on the island and sips her coffee. A wide grin spreads across her face, signifying she is saying this all with love.
In sheer silence, I take another bite of my pie, wishing to turn myself into two to do it all. Why can’t I just do it all?
“What did you tell your agent?”
“She’s sending over all the info by the end of tonight. I’ll learn more then.”
“Did you voice a verbal commitment?”
“No, but she assumes I should be over the moon about it.”
“Well…as people, we are allowed to change. It’s good to grow.”
Chapter 18
Joaquin
“Imustsaythisfourth of July was lukewarm.”
I clear my throat and pour Nadia, my cafe’s infamous Arnold Palmer. The high schoolers go crazy over this stuff. I find myself having to store batches of it in my downstairs fridge. It’s not something the health department would be proud of, but it satisfies the kids’ demand.
“I’m glad Adam fell asleep on the road.”
“Poor bud,” I admit. “I knew he was horrified by fireworks, but he promises he’s changed every year.”
“He was terrified during the thunderstorm; I’d assume he wouldn’t be over the fireworks.” Nadia brings up a good point.
I nod and try to find a moment for our eyes to lock. She’s been distant. I could easily pocket it as pregnancy hormones, but she’s been like this all day. With tension in her third eye, she zones out in deep thought and feels targeted by the locals.
“Hey, if you want me to confront that bartender from Olivers, give me the word. I will do it.”
“No, I already told you it would make things worse.”
I take a seat across from Nadia in my closed cafe. The pocket door to my home is left open since Adam is sleeping upstairs. Nadia scoops her hair behind her ears and stares at her pink nails. They match the pink flamingos in her long beach hippie summer dress. This one always looks fabulous. Clothes are privileged to be on her. She compliments them more than they compliment her. I reach for her hand, determined to get her to lift her eyes. I long to see her amber eyes spark.
“How are you feeling? There’s clearly something on your mind.”
