He nods and strokes the scruff on his chin. I think back on Alice telling me almost the exact same thing and wonder if I ever really hated Aaron atall.
“It doesn’t matter, though,” I say, as much to my dad as to myself. “He still loves someone else. He doesn’t want to, and I believe that, but he’s not ready to let her goyet.”
My dad gives a huff. “Then this boy is anidiota, if he can love anyone but my rockstar.”
“You’re very nice to saythat.”
He shakes his head, like I’m not taking him seriously enough. “Put him on the phone. I will tell him thismyself.”
“Not happening,Papai,” Ilaugh.
We fall into silence for a moment and then Isigh.
“I feel like I just need a break, a chance to step away from all this for a bit. I’ve made so much of my life about advertising, but maybe that was a mistake. I don’t even know what to do with myself rightnow.”
He looks at me with concern, and I can tell he wishes as much as I do that we were together right now. Suddenly, his eyes lightup.
“I am catching a thought, my dear.” I smile at his adorable struggle with English. “Come to Portugal. Come to stay with me andMamãe. You can go to the ocean every day and eat as manypastel de nataas you want. It will be a good break foryou.”
For a moment I’m pulled under the tide of my memories. I haven’t been back to Portugal since I was eighteen. School or jobs have always kept me too busy, but I can still smell the sharp salt of the sea and the warm, sweet scent ofMamãe’sbaking drifting from the kitchen to my bedroomupstairs.
I wasn’t born in Portugal, but we used to go back for a few weeks every summer, staying with my uncle and aunt. Strolling along the cobblestoned streets and wandering the rocky seaside cliffs sounds like exactly what I need right now, but I know it’s just a fantasy, a relaxing though too out of reach to makereal.
“That sounds amazing,Papai, but with school and everything, I don’t think I have the money. I start my summer classes in less than three weeks,too.”
“Three weeks is the perfect break time,” he responds, “and do not worry about the money, my dear. I always keep enough money to bringminha filhato come and see me, just incase.”
I shake my head. “Papai, no. It’s way toomuch.”
Getting tickets even months in advance is expensive. Buying them last minute like this will be way more than he should even considerspending.
“Hush, my dear. I will call the travel agentnow.”
I let out a snort. “You’re one of the only people I know who still gets their tickets through a travelagent.”
“I do not trust this web on the internet. It is sending me too manyemails.”
I want to remind him that it’s because he signs up for every email newsletter he sees a pop-up for, but we’ve been over that a few timesbefore.
“Are you sure?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful that he’ll say yes. Now that I’ve got the idea in my head, there’s nothing I want to do more than go visit, but I’m still hesitant to let him spend that much. “It’s a lot ofmoney.”
“Do not speak of it, my dear.Mamãewill betão animadowhen I tell her. She will be starting the cookingalready.”
He bobs his head in excitement and I finally give in, knowing that even though it’s a lot, he’ll consider it money wellspent.
“Thank you,Papai,” I say, putting as much gratitude into the words as Ican.
“Minha filha,” he states, his voice turning serious, “do not speak ofit.”
The next day, I get an email from the travel agent my dad always uses, forwarding me the flight details. I leave in threedays.
Too bad P&T didn’t let me keep the bikini, I think, already starting a packing list in myhead.
