but one thing isn’t complicated. I like you. A LOT. A LOT. A LOT. I think about you all the time. In one week, you’ve made yourself essential to me in so many ways, most having nothing at all to do with our “project.” I’ve got a lot to figure out, and I completely understand your need to protect yourself in the midst of my madness. I get it, even if I already miss you like crazy.
“I miss you, too,” I whisper, rereading his message at least ten times before my dad returns, bringing my salad with the house Italian dressing on the side, just the way I like it.
Dad lifts his chin to ask what’s up.
I hand over my phone to show him the text.
He reads it quickly and hands the phone back to me. “Have I mentioned I like this guy?”
“You might’ve said something about that.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to be patient and wait to see what’ll happen. I have a good feeling that having some patience in this situation might serve you well.”
“Maybe.”
He goes off to tend to other customers while I eat my salad and think about Jason’s text and what my dad said. I was doing okay before I met Jason, and I have to believe I’ll be fine if he goes back to New York. But nothing will be as bright or as interesting as it was with him around. It’ll be difficult to go on knowing he’s out there somewhere, too far away to be part of my daily life.
For once, my formidable appetite is letting me down as I pick at the salad and try to work up interest in anything.
My mother slides onto the stool next to me. “What’s going on?”
Since there’s no point in trying to dodge her, I give her the summary. “Jason may be getting his old job back in New York.”
“Oh crap. Well, good for him, but not so good for you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Abuela and Nona are right behind her, and my mother fills them in, which saves me the trouble of having to explain it yet again.
“Ay, mija, that boy is loco for you,” Abuela says. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“It’s not that simple, Abuela. His whole life, his research, everything is in New York. He only came here because he didn’t have any choice. Or he thought he didn’t.”
“That’s nonsense,” Nona says. “His work isn’t his whole life, and he’s smart enough to know that.”
I should’ve known they’d make me feel better. They usually do. And Dad was right about Dante’s marsala. It’s delicious. I box up half of it to take for lunch tomorrow.
“My boss wants to bring his wife in for their anniversary. He asked if I could pull some strings for him.”
“Eh,” Nona says with a wink. “We’ll see what we can do.”
I smile at her, and when she holds out her arms to me, I lean into her embrace. “After brunch, I said our little girl is falling in love with that handsome doctor.”
I start to protest, but she hushes me.
“I said she’s falling in love, and so is he. I only hope they can figure it out so no one gets hurt.” She runs her hand over my hair the way she used to when I was little. “I also said if he hurts you, I might have him killed, but I didn’t mean that. Well, not really . . .”
I’m laughing even as tears roll down my cheeks.
“If it’s meant to be with him, my sweet girl, it will be. But no matter what happens with your Jason, you’re a strong, capable woman, a survivor of much more difficult things than this’ll ever be. You, my love, will be fine, no matter what.”
“What she said.” Abuela uses her thumb to point to Nona in a rare moment of total agreement.
I want to luxuriate in the warm embrace of my grandmothers and parents, but I need to go home and get ready for work and prepare to move on with my life. Nona is right—if it’s meant to be, it will be. “Thank you, Nona. I needed to hear that tonight, and you’re right. It’ll work out the way it’s meant to.”
“And you will be fine,” Abuela says emphatically, “because we say so.”
I hug her and my mother—and my dad when he comes around the bar to get his share. “Love you guys. Don’t know what I’d do without you, which is why I can’t even think about living somewhere else.”