Page 59 of Stuck with the Grumpy Silver Fox

“Well, his father stopped by the day after the Fourth. And I think he shared with him some news he hadn’t expected. He didn’t want to let me know…and I knew it had to do with something close to me. His folks met me a couple of weeks ago, and they know nothing about me that I haven’t shared. I’m pretty positive it was this.”

“What hints did Joaquin give you?”

“He did mention that he may have information that I, too, may want to know, but I think he is waiting for me to um…commit? Or tell him that I’m sticking around after the memoir.”

Grandma shakes her head.

“Don’t take people for granted, Nadia. It only serves ourselves, and you can’tonlythink aboutyourself.”

Those words make my forehead throb as if a parasite is stuck beneath its surface, itching to burst through and take flight.

“You can’t. You have to think about your child, too. And, remember, we are much, much bigger than our dreams.”

Again, the words cling to my third eye as if they are the skeleton key to all parts of me. So simple but raw and accurate are those words. Words I clearly need a moment to ponder about. Because it would be selfish to only think about myself and head overseas to write a dangerous and controversial book to lift my name in journalistic circles. Sure, it will stroke my ego and give me all the fame my heart desires, but it’s not what my heart desires. It is my mind. It’s all in my head. It’s what my mind wants.

“You look like you have a migraine coming on?” Grandma points to my head as the waitress approaches, carrying our appetizers.

Quickly, I ordered my food that wasn’t what I thought I wanted. I went from a kale salad to ordering a double cheeseburger. I down my water and hand over my menu.

“How can you tell my head is about to explode?”

“Ever since you were a baby, my sweet Nadia. Whenever a new idea passed your mind, when you finally understood something, or if something was just bothering you, your forehead would throb or look like it was throbbing. A very distinctive characteristic of yours. I think it looks like a little rock emerges.”

“That sounds scary.”

“No. It’s not a tumor or anything like that. It’s just a thing of yours. Trust me. I took you to four doctors when you were a toddler to make sure. Ask your Father. He thought I was crazy until he really opened his eyes to see what I was seeing.”

I laugh into my napkin as I understand how aloof my Dad can be regarding these things. It takes him a lot of time to process things, and as much as it kills me to admit it, I think I can be the same, especially regarding my feelings. Definitely, when it comes to my feelings.

“My advice about your throbbing head is to listen to your heart. Your mind is way overactive. It’s only great to be that way when you’re reporting. There’s a place for it and more places for it outside of reporting, but just like how it’s no longer all about you, my darling. It cannever everbe all about the mind.”

And like that, Nonna stabs a piece of fennel with her fork and plops it in her mouth.

Chapter 20

Joaquin

TheinconsistenciesofEvergreenmeteorologists have officially pissed me off. I had to cancel a fishing trip with a couple of friends to whom I was eager to introduce Nadia, but it poured down buckets for two hours at the last minute.

One less hassle is that Adam is with my parents again. This gives Nadia and me another day, night, and early morning to be as loud and ruthless as we want. I still can’t get over taking her on top of my cafe’s counter. Something so beautiful knowing we blessed my cafe with our love.

But now, Nadia wants me to give her space to walk the trail. I wouldn’t mind, but I’m not positive if the rain has stopped.

“I just need to clear my head. My agent needs a response for me and…I just need a walk before I get back to her.”

I need Nadia to shake this somberness off for her mental and emotional health and the baby’s health. She’s been on edge all morning after receiving a demanding email from her agent. When I asked about it again, she refused to share. If this solo walk puts her in a better mood, maybe she should go for it. After all, here she is, convincing me the rain won’t fall because the sun is out. Ha. Who knows. Maybe she’s right, so I give her space.

“You really don’t want to take your phone with you?” I try pushing it into her hands.

She struggles to take it.

“You can turn it off and only turn it on in case you need it. Please.” I plead.

After a deep sigh, she accepts it.

I thank her by kissing her heavily active third eye. She pivots, steps off the back porch, and goes down the trail. She’s been on it enough with me to have familiarized herself with it. We picked up Adam from school and had a couple of late evening sunset strolls.

I hear droplets against the windowsill as I start dinner. I slow down my onion chopping while keeping a gaze outside the window. After spotting the orange umbrella, I meant to physically hand it to Nadia while still on the back porch. I stop chopping and slap the towel from my shoulder against the countertop.

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