“I got a callback.”
She waits me out, patient because somehow she always knows.
“It’s not official, but if they extend an offer I’ll have to move to Scotland. I’d be there more than here.”
“You don’t want the role?”
“No!” I blow out a breath. “That’s not it at all. It’s an amazing opportunity. The best of my life. Career changing.”
“But?”
“I’d have to give up Isaac.” I swallow hard, not wanting to offend her or the choices she made in her youth. “And I always swore I’d never be that woman—the one who ditches her career for the first guy I care about.”
“You must really like him.”
“I do.” I play with my napkin, folding into squares and then unfolding it. “And now if I take this job, I’m going to miss everything. David’s first words. His first day of school. Isaac’s smile when I crack a joke. All the relationship milestones, like figuring out how to split holidays between our families, moving in together, and . . .” I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I can’t help it. When I think of a future with Isaac I want all the things. A family. A home. A once-in-a-lifetime forever kind of partner.
“You love him.”
“I do.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming message from where it sits on the counter next to my plate. It’s Lydia. They made a decision. I pick it up to read. My heart falls at the message. Disappointment churns in my gut. My grip on the phone tightens as if somehow it’ll change the outcome. “That was my agent. I guess I have my answer.”
“Is it what you want?”
I don’t know what I want. I shake my head, then nod. Tears fill my eyes and even though I blink them away, a few fall.
“Oh, Cora.” My mom stands from her barstool and pulls me into her arms. The strength of her arms wrapped around my body creates a safe space for me to fall apart. I don’t remember the last time she’s held me this way, but the love in her embrace only provokes more tears.
“It’ll be okay.” She rubs between my shoulder blades. “You’re going to be just fine. You know that, right?”
“What if I make the wrong choice?” I mumble into where my face presses against her body.
She grips my shoulders and pulls back to meet my gaze. “Then you’ll be human. Don’t you dare miss out on life, because you might regret it later.”
I nod, using my napkin to wipe away a few stray tears. I release a shaky breath. “You give really good advice.”
“You should listen to me more often.” She laughs wryly, offering an understanding smile. “Come on. Put that phone away. Help me clean up from dinner. I’ve got ice cream in the freezer and hours of reality television waiting for us.” She’s my mom. She knows exactly how to cheer me up.
There were so many years of my youth when I was resentful—for the long hours she worked. For all the time she devoted to my sister’s care because my dad wasn’t around. How she sometimes didn’t seem to notice I needed a mom too. I was always so independent and strong. But now, I realize how much she’s always understood me—my passion for adventure, life, and yes, reality television shows. She did her best, and that was better than most. I’m filled with gratitude for this time to reconnect as adults. I see her struggles in a new light and my admiration for the mother she is and always has been grows.
The big, life-changing decisions sitting in my email will still be waiting tomorrow, so I put them aside, just for the night. Maybe in the light of a new day I’ll figure out a way to make peace with my choices. Maybe there’s a way to keep my dreams and Isaac too.
Forty-Nine
Isaac
In some ways this week drags by, but in others it flies. I barely stay on top of my class load, especially with the additional work of navigating the system to get early intervention therapy set up for David. Cora’s in San Diego with her family and we chat a few times on the phone. I tell her about the visit with Emily, and her support is clear even with the miles that separate us.
I miss her though. The idea of her moving halfway across the world sends my pulse skyrocketing. I can’t hold her back, but the idea of watching her go guts me, especially after fate just brought us together.
Friday afternoon I turn in a project for one of my classes and pick up David. I’m exhausted but going home to an empty apartment bums me out, so I head to my parents’ instead.
“Hey!” I open the front door and David bolts straight to his toys. I chuckle at the arrival of a new truck near the pile. My mamá loves to spoil him.
“Isaac.” My papá sits up in his recliner, turning down the television. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Isaac!” Mamá appears in the wide archway that separates the kitchen from the living room. Her smile is wide with surprise. “My sweet grandson too!” She wipes her hands on the dish towel in her hands and leans down to kiss his cheek. “You staying for dinner?”
“If it’s okay?”
“Always.” She wraps her arms around me and pushes onto her toes to kiss my cheek before heading back to the kitchen. “Be ready in fifteen.”
“Thanks, Mamá.” I take a seat on the couch next to Papá. My mamá humming as she sings along to the music from the kitchen makes us both smile. I’m sure she’d love if I came in there to keep her company, but it’s rare that my papá and I get to visit, just the two of us. After his health scare a few weeks ago, I’m compelled to take advantage of this moment. “So, how you doing? Medications are working? Blood pressure good?”
“Fine. Fine.” His face sours a little and he waves me off. “You all worry too much.”
“Yeah, well, you did give us all a scare.”
“The only good thing that’s come out of it is you visit more. Dinner was nice the other night.” He smiles. “Your mamá likes Cora. We all did.”
“Yeah, I like her too.”
“Was that true, what she said about the art lady wanting to see your work?”
“Papá.” I chuckle and shake my head at his use of art lady.
“It’s a good opportunity, no? You should follow through on that.”
“I don’t need to embarrass myself, get my hopes up for nothing.”
“The greatest disappointments come from the chances you never take.”
“Who said that?”
“Me. Tu papá!”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s the harm in going after something you want, something that fuels your passion? Your spirit. We’ve raised you children to be brave. To follow your heart. You don’t want to be my age, heavy with regret—about David. Love. Your art too.”
I understand his well-placed intentions, I do. Still. “My art isn’t going to pay the bills so what’s the point?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but it doesn’t mean you give up.” He points his finger at my chest. “That’s a part of you, mijo. You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.”