I shake my head, a smile cracking. Camila knows how to get a good laugh out of me. That’s Camila—sixty-something, Brazilian, fiery. Basically the human embodiment of sass. I didn’t even know what sass was until Bea explained it to me. Now I know Camila probablyinventedthe word.
“I’ve left you some dinner ready for you to eat.Feijoadaand some rice,” she says, grabbing her keys.
“It’s like you read my mind.”
“Boss, you eat rice and beans every day.”
“Yeah, but your feijoada isn’t justrice and beans. That stew is next-level. What do you put in it?”
My mother taught me my way around the kitchen, and Camila has helped me for a good number of years. If I see her in the kitchen cooking something, I find myself gravitating to find out what delightful concoction she’s coming up with. And her feijoada—the famous Brazilian black bean stew that can be madewith different seasonings and added ingredients—is simply the best.
She pats my shoulder like she always does—gentle but firm. “Soon, boss. Soon.”
She says this every time I ask. Maybe someday she’ll willingly tell me her magic secret ingredient.
“I’ll see you later, boss. Make sure to not wallow too much. You’ve done enough of that the past few months,” she eyes me from the side.
I glance at her sideways. “Camila, you know the wallowing stopped a while ago. When Iris made it clear she was done trying—done with me—I stopped.”
I stopped eating.
Stopped hoping.
I even lost twenty pounds.
“Maybe it’s time we start praying for a new woman for you. I think you need a fiery brunette this time.”
I sigh. I’m not averse to being out on the market again. This divorce is no news to me. It’s been months leading to this day. We even attempted marriage counseling, but nothing stopped Iris from wanting out.
Still…‘I’m divorced’were never words I thought would come out of my mouth—at any point, least of all in my thirties. Especially as a man who has always been in love with God. Those words are for the people on TV. Orthosecouples. You know, the ones we always refer to asthem—they’re statistics. They don’t feel like real life people. But now, I’m another statistic.
It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s strange how time has passed and already my heart is numbed to Iris. I didn’t get married to get divorced. I got marriedfor life.But I saw another side of her—the side that showed me her true colors. She didn’t stand by her vows—there was no ‘til death do us part’ for her.
She’s averse to commitment. She wants to live her life without me. And I’m okay with that now. But my heart hurts most for my kids. I just want this to go as smoothly as possible for them. I just want my kids to feel steady. Safe. Somehow okay. As okay as any kid can be when their world is split down the middle.
I head to the shower, ready to eat some of Camila’s miracle stew, watch whatever’s on TV, and forget this day ever happened.
The next day unfolds without incident. Business as usual—or as usual as it can be when I still occasionally work with my former father-in-law. Myexfather-in-law. He knows all about the divorce and how it went down—that Iris wanted to chase life’s adventures without me beside her. So there’s no bad blood between us.
Still, I wonder if it’ll ever get awkward someday. Today, however, is not that day.
I run a meat distribution company, supplying supermarkets and local markets. Business runs in my blood—I’ve always had a knack for it. But lately, I’ve sensed God stirring something else in me. I’ve been invited to speak at church more than a few times now, giving sermons.
Still, I’m not ready for anything different just yet. This is what I know and I’m good at.
As I arrive home, I walk in to find Pastor John sitting on the couch.
“Hey Nate… Camila let me in,” he says, lifting his cup.
“She knows to always let you in.” I shrug.
“I thought I’d check in on you. How was yesterday?”
“As good as a divorce can go I guess,” I grimace.
“What about the kids?”
“I’m picking them up tomorrow.” I sigh. “My heart breaks mostly for them. How they’ll have to navigate us not being together. I know they’ve known things weren’t right for months, so it wasn’t a surprise… but no kid wants their parents to get a divorce.”
