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“Really?” Nadia is genuinely asking Adam as if hesitant about my food.
“Yes!” That’s my boy.
“Awesome. I usually save my meat-eating days for my grandma’s house, but…maybe your Dad’s meal has what it takes.”
Like on cue, my eyes and hers meet. Together, we soften our expressions. I send her a sly smile, and she blushes again and returns to the game.
Hmmm. Looks like I’m capable of making Nadia Vitale Gustev feel a certain way.
Chapter 3
Nadia
Adamhascompletelystolenmy heart. Outside of being such a cool kid, Adam’s naturally free-spirited and very sensitive about thunderstorms. After playing Connect Four, where he won 6 out of 10, he invited me to the other side of the pocket door to play another game, Uno, in the living room. I was expecting a home that dropped all its guards down. Especially considering how well-kept the coffee house is. Who has the will or energy to keep everything afloat these days?
However, the home is very tidy with a minimalist flair. There are well-kept plants, and the books on the shelf are organized by the author’s name. This doesn’t feel like a home governed by a man, let alone an Aries. As a reporter, I have a plethora of stored questions compiled in the corner of my head, and, by god, I want them answered.
Adam does a great job answering these questions without knowing I’m thinking of them. Or maybe he does.
“I wish I had a mom.”
Like that one.
My eyes are heavy now. Probably because this day is entirely surreal, and I’m over here praying the rental doesn’t get hit by a tree.
“I know the feeling.”
I’m not sure why I just said that. I do have a mom, but being the daughter of Delores Vitale and Director Joseph Ritter made my mother run away and dive into a very unusual occupation; a Botanist in Costa Rica. Let’s just say that my mother left me with my father at the age of seven to live a disconnected life throughout Central America.
“Did your mom run away too?”
Holy shit. Did he just ask me this? I’m sitting across from him on the floor. We’re using the coffee table with a solar lamp to our side for light.
“Yes, she did. When I was about your age. Well, I was seven at the time. My dad raised me, and my grandmother helped a lot too.”
A warm smile appears, and I can tell he cherishes this similarity.
The pocket door slides open. Joaquin walks in, bearing the gray bag I asked him to grab. He’s pretty drenched. His heavy maroon autumn-like flannel looks heavy and irritable against him, and his jeans are darker and saggy.
I stand up to grab my bag, but he places it on the side.
“Let’s leave it here for now.”
He vanishes down his wide hallway into parts of the home I haven’t seen.
“Uno!” Adam exclaims as I try to concentrate on this extremely simple game, but I’m too plagued with grownup questions and worries to give Adam the full attention he desires.
He doesn’t bring up the topic of parents again until after Joaquin re-emerges.
Joaquin is now dressed in a beige short sleeve Hanes shirt that snugs at his biceps, back, and pectoral muscles.What is he trying to do to me?He’s also wearing jogging pants, the infamous gray ones that demand my female gaze, but I am resisting. Ihaveto resist. He’s definitely one good-looking man, mature. Why am I inevitably attracted to older men? I have a great dad, so I rebuke the Daddy issue theory. If anything, I have mommy issues.
But Joaquin is a little difficult to read. It’s as if his niceness is present for the sake of being hospitable. After all, he is in the hospitality business. A couple of things he said earlier carried a tone that rubbed me the wrong way. He sounded condescending and approached me as if I were a child when he tried telling me about my phone battery. The more I hear him talk, the more I realize he has a natural angst about him. It could be unresolved tension of some sort or our current situation. This does suck! I really hope the rain stops, but it’s on a continuous cycle, as if we’re literally being punished.
“Hey, Dad! Guess what?”
“What’s up, bud?”
“Nadia’s mother abandoned her too.”
