Page 46 of Ice Ice Maybe
“Well, we are always rushing around and flying everywhere, so I would love to do something different and take a road trip,” she said.
“Where would you go?” Nolan asked.
Mom smiled. “Grand Canyon. Route 66. Anywhere, really, just to drive for a while. It would be wonderful to cruise down the highway in a convertible, wind in my hair, while listening to Tina Turner’s greatest hits. We could stop at one of those charming fruit stands on the side of the road and buy some fresh fruit. I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Sounds like the perfect week,” Nolan said with a smile. “My mom is also a big Tina Turner fan.” He turned to me. “Zena, what about you?”
“I would start by planting a vegetable garden,” I said. “I’d learn to cook some gourmet dishes. And I’d cap it all off with a pizza-eating contest at the County Fair.”
Nolan tilted his head to the side. “They have pizza-eating contests at the fair?”
“They do in my dreams,” I bumped his arm. “Your turn. What would you do?”
Nolan grinned. “Well, it’s kind of related to your last one, but I’d take it one step further and fly to Naples, Italy, for the world’s largest pizza festival.”
“Is that a thing?” I asked.
He nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, it’s real, all right. There are over fifty of Naples’ best pizzerias all in one place, right along the waterfront. You’ve got the ambiance of thousands of people from all around the world, combined with live music and the smell of wood-fired pizza all around you. You get to eat your way through slice after amazing slice. It’s basically pizza paradise.”
“I’m going to change my answer. I’m going to Naples with Nolan,” I blurted.
Mom nodded enthusiastically and raised her hand. “Count me in too!”
All eyes turned to Dad, waiting for his thoughts.
He crossed his arms. “Why on Earth would I travel to Naples for pizza when Little Italy is ten minutes from our house?”
Mom huffed in exasperation. “Honestly, Everett. And to think you gave me a glimmer of hope when you mentioned the guitar.”
“That was a lifetime ago.” Dad got up to use the restroom.
After he passed us, Nolan leaned in close to me and said sotto voce, “Is it my imagination, or does your dad visit the bathroom an awful lot?”
I shrugged, surprised by his observation. “I haven’t been keeping a tally.”
“Seriously—That’s his fourth or fifth trip since we boarded,” Nolan continued, his brow furrowed with concern. “And he has had little to drink. It might be nothing, but my dad had similar symptoms before we found out he had kidney stones.”
His words sobered me instantly, since Mom and I had been worried about his health lately. “Thanks for mentioning it. I’ll talk with Mom about it when we’re alone and see what she has to say.”
Captain Jack’s voice came over the intercom. “Please prepare for landing.”
Dad returned to his seat and strapped himself in, his face set in a scowl.
Twenty-five minutes later, we found ourselves in the private terminal of Memphis International Airport, sipping coffee and waiting. The tension around Dad was palpable, but Nolan lightened my mood with his suggestions for passing the time.
“We could playI Spy,” he whispered.
I playfully swatted his arm, but couldn’t keep the smile from my face. “Don’t you dare start that here in the terminal.”
As I watched Nolan, I marveled at his calm confidence. Unlike the parade of yes-men that usually surrounded Dad, Nolan wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when it mattered. It was refreshing, to say the least. But the genuine surprise was Mom. It was as if Nolan’s presence had flipped a switch inside her. She was pushing back against Dad’s rigidity with a fervor I hadn’t seen in years. Her newfound assertiveness was like watching a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis, beautiful and long overdue.
Captain Jack approached us, his expression grim. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news. There’s a computer glitch and the number of aircraft diverting to alternative airports is increasing, creating a significant backlog. It’s unlikely we’ll get clearance to resume our trip for at least five or six hours, from what it sounds like.”
Nolan piped up. “Why don’t we rent a car and drive? Nashville can’t be that far, and it would be much better than being cooped up here. A little fresh air would do us good.”
Captain Jack nodded. “Not a bad idea at all. It’s a straight shot east on Interstate 40. You’re looking at around three hours, maybe more, depending on traffic, which should be minimal at this hour. I can have your luggage sent to your hotel the moment I get to Nashville.”
“Absolutely not,” Dad cut in. “We’ll wait for the jet. Let’s not get all crazy, and start changing plans.”
