I close out the group chat and pull up Adam’s text again.Sure. What time should I be ready?
13
Nadia is home by thetime Adam arrives the next morning. “Who’s this?” she asks, pointing him out through the kitchen window. A lean form is walking up the driveway, his big hands in his pockets. He’s wearing a green Henley paired with dark-wash jeans and leather boots. That same rucksack, which I think must be part of his signature look, is slung over his left shoulder.
“That’s Adam,” I say. I’m filling up my reusable water bottle. “Adam Noemi? William’s grandson?”
“Oh, he’s the one you have a crush on.” Nadia’s pulling on her black blazer, the same one she’s worn to work for, like, the last two decades, with a cup of espresso in hand. Every morning, for as long as any of us sisters can remember, Nadia makes two cups of espresso—one for her, and one for the old gods, which she pours right into the dirt. I always imagined that the black liquid worked itself into tiny veins in the earth, like a cardiovascular system made up of caffeine, popping up on the other side of townto an old god like a fountain, and he would lower his little cup to fill it and throw it right back.
When Nadia looks up at me, she’s got a gleam in her eyes that I can’t say I appreciate. “Ahh, yes. And he’s got a crush on you now, too.”
“Don’t say that,” I hiss just as Adam knocks on the door.
She laughs. “Mija, youknowthat I know these things.”
I do know she knows stuff. That’s literally her superpower. Hergift. But I can’t hear things like that right now. The moths in my belly, which of course made a reappearance as soon as our meetup time appeared, now feel like they’ve made their way right to my throat. Plus he’s literally on the other side of the door! What if he heard her making claims toknowthings like that?
Nadia must be feeling fresh today, because she beats me to the door so fast, no one would ever guess she was an septuagenarian with two synthetic knees. “Adam!” she says, as though I didn’t just have to explain who he was to her. “What a pleasant surprise! Why don’t you come in. Do you need some coffee or water or tea?”
“No, ma’am,” Adam says, smiling with both his dimples out. “Sky and I were just about to hang out for a little while.”
“Is that right.” Nadia smirks at me.
Adam must sense her tone, because he quickly adds, “Sky’s a really great friend. You must be so proud of her.”
Friend.There that word is again.
As much as I have gotten on my knees and begged the old gods for real friends in the last year or two, I kind of hate that word right about now.
But I put my hand on my belly as the little moths dwindle and dwindle until it feels like only a handful. And then, only one. Oh, thank the old gods. Adam calling me a friend cured me of mynerves and hopefully any and all attraction to him. I can like the word after all.
“We gotta run,” I tell Nadia, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Will you be home for dinner?”
I know she won’t, but I always ask. I’ve invited her to join me and William just about every week since I first started bringing him food. She’s never come. Not once. In fact, I can’t remember the last time Nadia and I sat down and had any kind of meal together. Oh sure, in the beginning of my Great Return from the Land of the Old Gods, as she still refers to it from time to time, she would make sure I had food. She’d cook for me and bring it to my room, or meal plan like a wild woman and fill the fridge with nutritionally balanced portions in mismatched Tupperware. Which of course I appreciated.
But the second I began to cook my own shit, she stopped. And I know. I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t need my elderly auntie to feed me like I’m a baby or something. But it’s weird, living with someone and never seeing them except in passing. Someone could spy on her big, almost always empty house, and think we were roommates, not family.
Just like people would see me, Teal, and Sage and think we were friends—there that word is again—who drifted apart, not sisters.
So it doesn’t surprise me the least bit when Nadia turns down the dinner invite. Again.
“Oh, amor, I can’t tonight. You know I work late on Fridays. I’ll be stopping by the church on the way home because Mother Michelle’s giving me extra keys to the sanctuary this weekend, for the big summer festival, in case someone gets locked out.” Nadia looks between me and Adam. “You know what?”
“Um,” I say, because I suspect Nadia’s about to suggest something embarrassing.
And I’m right. She smiles big and continues with “You two should definitely go to that! What agreatidea. The summer festival St. Theresa’s puts on every year?”
“Nadia—” I say. “We really need to be—”
“No, no, please. Just one second.” She is digging through a handbag the size of a Smart car as she holds her other hand up, pointing her red acrylic nail right at my heart.
Even though she may very well stab me with those bloodred claws, I rush to the front door, flinging it open. “Sorry, Nadia!” I call. “We’re just in a hurry, maybe you can—”
And as I’m trying to drag Adam out the door, Nadia shoves tickets to the festival into our hands. “Here’s some ride and food coins, too! But don’t tell no one I gave this to you, you hear?”
“Thank you, Tía. Have a good day,” I say as robotically as possible as I shut the door behind me.
Adam’s grinning by the time we get in the car. “She always like that?”
