Ginger Fox

Three months later

"Promise me that you'll call whenever you can, that you'll take care of yourself, get enough sleep, and for heaven's sake, eat properly and not just junk food." I smile at my mom, taking my suitcase from her fingers. "I still think it was a terrible idea to accept this job, Gim."

"Here we go again," my dad rolls his eyes, pulling me into a hug and pinching my cheeks. "We've already talked about how this will be good for her. Take care, you know we love you."

"I love you both so much too." I lift my face and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Oh, my God! If you wanted a job so badly, why didn't you find one here?" My mom is sobbing, raising a handkerchief to wipe her face.

"For heaven's sake, Mole! Ginger is already twenty-three years old." Dad lets me go, walking over to hug her tightly.

"Mom, it's just until the end of the summer. And Norfolk isn't that far from Columbia." I wink at her, opening my arms to embrace them both.

"It's an island in Australia!" my mom replies quickly. "I still think it's not right. And what about Tom? What about your wedding? You should be worried about that."

"Mom, we've already talked about this. Tom and I are fine with my decision. After the summer, we'll get married. What else can I do besides wait for him to finish his internship?"

"Take care of your wedding preparations," she snaps, glaring at me.

I look at my dad, giving up on trying to reason with her. He nods slightly, understanding that she won't and doesn't want to understand. In a way, Dad was the only one who seemed happy when I accepted the job.

"Look, we're almost out of time." He raises his wrist, drawing attention to his watch. "Your flight is about to leave. You should hurry, Gim."

I quickly kiss my dad, smoothing my mom's hair as I step back, smiling at them both.

"I love you!"

My steps are firm as I head towards the boarding gate. Before I enter and pass through the turnstile, I turn one last time, smile, and wave goodbye. I’m oddly excited about the decision I’ve made. Not that working as a companion on a remote island in the Pacific Ocean, which I only discovered on Google Maps, had ever been my dream or life plan. But when I found the ad on an online agency, it felt like everything I needed. My days had become extremely stressful, leaving me on the brink of collapse, in a suffocating way that even the last trimester of my Business Administration degree hadn’t done. Tom's unexpected marriage proposal during my graduation dinner was a point-blank shot, but not because I didn't see myself with him. Yes, I had always known that Tom would be the man of my life, that we would share our story, but at that moment, what was once a certain future started to feel like a full stop in my life. It was as if all our previous plans were being run over by the marriage proposal. My mom, euphoric and happy, was screaming with joy, as radiant as if she were the bride herself. I couldn’t feel even a tenth of the emotion she was feeling. My dad, calm, just smiled discreetly, looking at me with a silent question reflected in his thick, dark eyebrows: Is this really what you want?

I didn’t know.

Not that I doubted I could build a solid relationship with Tom. I never had a chance to imagine a life without him; we lived on the same street, played together since we were kids, and were children of traditional families. He was the most handsome and caring boy at school. He was the first boy I kissed and the only guy I slept with. We were the most likely couple in the statistics. Sometimes, I’d pick a fight just to have a silly argument and enjoy some makeup sex that went a bit further than our usual vanilla routine. We rarely fought, always in sync on everything: music, movies, football teams, food... The only thing Tom and I didn’t share was curiosity about what lay beyond all that. The unexpected, this urge to explore other places and meet other people consumed me, to learn more about my own body, to discover the many ways to find pleasure and happiness. Tom went from being my best friend to my boyfriend and now my fiancé—we had been together for ten years. Maybe that was what I wanted, to be his wife, the mother of his children. There was no exchange of rings or romantic proposal; it was a casual moment, inside a mediocre pizzeria downtown, celebrating my graduation in a profession that wasn’t even my dream. It was almost like saying, "Hey, want to share this pizza you’re eating with me?"

And there I was, mustard on my lips, just nodding my head in agreement. Because why not? It was something that would happen sooner or later. It just came too soon. When I finished college, I still didn’t know what I would do or where I would go, but I wanted to explore far beyond the borders of Columbia. Then the marriage proposal came, and with it, all the craziness my mother had inside her was unleashed—like getting married in a church with all the matrimonial pomp for her only daughter. Instead of searching for the best companies to apply for a job, I found myself analyzing fabrics, flowers, dresses, music, and guest lists. Since when was there so much variety of paper for wedding invitations? I was watching my whole life being decided between ice white and pearl white, as if it were the most important decision in the world. With a forced smile on my face, I found myself suffering between my mom and my future mother-in-law, learning to be the perfect wife for the future anchor of the seven o’clock news. One night, I found myself crying uncontrollably, and in the midst of that breakdown, I felt selfish for not being happy about my upcoming marriage. Tom moving to California only made me more anxious, leaving all his mom’s and my mom’s excitement on my shoulders. I knew the internship at the California news station would be important for his career; it was his lifelong dream to become a great anchor, standing out on national television. One more night as the future bride, in a fit of melancholy, I started looking up temporary summer jobs, just to have something truly important to worry about, besides wildflowers or which dress the flower girl should wear. I think the conversation with my dad, which had happened two days earlier, was the final hammer strike on the nail that had been bleeding my heart.

"Enjoy this summer, visit a place you’ve never been, talk to people who can bring new insights. Do something on your own, just you and a backpack." His fingers held mine, and I got lost in his calm gaze. "I’m not saying I’m against this marriage, but maybe it would be good, just once, to do what you really want, to make your own decisions, to make mistakes and learn from them, to find out where that curious little Ginger went—the one who always got into adventures and trouble but was happy."

I listened to her. I listened to the long-silenced voice of little Ginger, who had somehow gotten lost, screaming inside me. I turned my eyes away from my dad, feeling my heart tighten as if it were being strangled.

"Life is like a story, where you are the author. Take some advice from this old man who loves you." My dad lifted my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. "We can only write in this notebook once, so write something beautiful, my sweet girl."