You Moved In

Dinner

"-hey, I totally think you should have started going," Marina says.

The restaurant is the exact same architecture style as vovó's house. The kitchen is covered with the same titled roof like the houses in Portugal and Spain. There are paintings of cows, streets, and beaches- it's beautiful here. The town itself has a high percentage of Portuguese people, I'm surprised Vovó is still in Southwick. It smells of foreign seasonings and fresh food, and traditional Portuguese music is being softly played. It's filled with people at this time and their chatter drowns out the noise of my hunger.

"I much as I didn't want too, I think I'd learn a lot about myself." I say and take a sip of ice water.

"That's what happened when I went; he made me realize that my brother isn't a burden, he's blessing to have." She says.

The waiter brings our food to our table. For me; a bifana, a traditional pork sandwich on popo seco bread smothered in onions and peppers. And for Marina; steak, potato fries and fried eggs. It smells heavenly.

"Thank you," she smiles at the waiter and he leaves.

"I didn't learn anything about myself yet, but I explained me everything about me so, he knows what he's working with." I say and take a bite.

"Yeah," she says, "enough about that... how've you been besides all the problems."

"It's been good," I say, "albeit, the problems are the only thing I can really focus on. How 'bout you?"

"Same old, same old," she says, "I think the more I get out the more I seem to forget about things."

"That's good... in a way," I laugh and take another bite and wipe my face.

"Yeah, but I'd forget my head if it wasn't on my neck," she laughs and basically inhales a big portion of her meal.

"Everything is slowly going back to the stability I've once known." I say.

"Do you think you'd even be able to talk to your father again?" She asks.

"A part of me hopes too, the other half wants that bastard to die in a hole." I say honestly.

She laughs quietly, "at least you're truthful."

I think for a moment, "I miss my home," I look up at her, "I miss my family."

"Yeah," she says with a small frown.

"It's my fault things happened the way it did. But I'm torn between a rock and a hard place; if I didn't go with Miguel, I would save myself from ever leaving, but I've never fallen in love with him." I almost let out in a whisper.

"Well, Callie, you have to decide who you love more." She instructs.

"I love Miguel more," I exclaim without hesitation, "but my father was a big part of my life, it's not like I can just let that go."

"I get that, but that love is one sided. Your father put food on the table because he's legally responsible to care for you until you turn 18, after that, I bet you won't even hear of his name." She says, "you have to think of the person would give you that love in return." She thinks for a moment, "I love you, but you're very easy to manipulate."

"What?!" I yell.

"Shh," she hushes me.

"What'd you just say to me?" I scold her.