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Gia had to give her credit—it was a good idea. The South Rim of the Grand Canyon was only a 90-minute drive. It was something to do, and she’d never been. “That sounds nice. I need to be home by seven. My friend is on a reality show that’s airing tonight.”
“I don’t have TV, doll.” Gianna opened the oven and pulled out a plate of bacon.
“Oh.” Disappointment flooded Gia’s body. “I’ll just watch it on my phone.”
“Can you watch it tomorrow on re-runs?”
“I’d rather not. I want to see it live. Can’t we eat afterwards?”
“Well—that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve invited someone to dinner. From my work. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and I want you to meet him. I’m startin’ to think my picker’s broken, and I want your opinion.”
There was so much in that declaration, Gia thought. She was going to miss her show. Her mom had a new boyfriend. And she wanted Gia’s approval. Gianna had never asked for approval on the rotating cast of men in her life. Why start then? Unsure how she felt about the collision of those items, Gia sat at the banquette in the corner of Gianna’s kitchen and sipped coffee, stewing. At least she knew why she was home for Christmas. It was about a man. With her mother, it was always about a man.
“Here, have some breakfast.” Gianna set a plate of bacon, eggs poached in tomato sauce, and toasted sourdough on the table.
“I’m not hungry. But thank you.”
“I made those eggs with leftover sauce from the lasagna. Nonna’s recipe. Humor me. Please?” Gianna’d already turned to the stove and was wiping it with a sponge.
“Alright.” Gia dipped a fork into the eggs, which were perhaps the most delicious she’d ever tasted. Cooked in the gravy, as her nonna called it, they took on a richness and acidity that forced an involuntary, “mm.”
“Good, right?”
“They’re amazing,” Gia said, and stacked a bit of egg and sauce on top of toast. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’m just disappointed about my show. I’ve been waiting for it for months, so—”
“Why don’t you step out and watch it in your room? It’ll be okay. I’ll serve him some cocktails and we can have dinner after.”
They’d had a moment. Gianna met Gia where she was. It was Gia’s turn. She didn’t like the new guy—if he needed cocktails to wait for dinner, she wasn’t a fan. But she remembered the surrender. Surrender to the things you can’t control. Don’t let them control you or your actions; accept them and move on. She couldn’t control her mother’s taste in men. And didn’t want Gianna’s feedback on her taste in women. Instead of launching into a lecture, she needed to hear the facts and leave them alone. “That would be great, thank you.”
Progress. On both their parts.
???
“Please, can we skip Kenny for the ride?” Gia flipped the radio dial in search of anything but a saxophone.
“But I love him! The way he plays that saxophone is so—”
“I know, but how about holiday music with words?”
“Alright. Play whatever you like. Music doesn’t matter, anyway. Just that we’re together.” Gianna drove with an air of contentment, humming to “I’ll be Home for Christmas.”
Snow fell as they passed over hills dotted with fir and pine trees, creating a real-life snow globe. Not so much to cause concern—light flurries to remind them it was winter. What a difference a few hundred miles made—there was no way Palm Springs was getting a white Christmas. Gia had to admit, it was holiday-spirit inducing. The music, the mountains, the snow. Her mom was behaving—loving, even.
“When was the last time we did this?” Gianna asked.
“What?”
“Took a trip together?”
“I can’t remember.” Gia was stumped. Whenwasthe last time they’d done that? Gotten in a car and driven somewhere for the sake of sight-seeing? No agenda, no real reason other than spending time together?
“Me either. Let’s not wait so long next time, okay? Oh—look! See him? On the side there?” Gianna pointed to her left and pulled off the road. A male elk was grazing, minding his own business as cars stopped and people snapped cell phone photos. He was a celebrity in his own right—a Grand Canyon sight.
“Wow, he’s stunning! I’ve never seen an elk.” Gia craned her neck to watch the giant creature eat. A reminder that the world was bigger than her problems.
“Wait until you see the canyon. This is just the appetizer, doll.”
Twenty minutes later, Gia stood on an overlook and bathed in vistas full of shades of orange and brown. A sign told her she was looking at two billion years of the Earth’s history and eleven layers of ancient rocks rising from the serpentine route of the Colorado River.
