An extraordinary average day

Isabella Rose Garcia was the proud owner of 1,100 square feet condo at Arlington, Virginia as of March 1st. She called this place home with $2,300 monthly mortgage tag and hasn’t been happier with her decision; it was truly hers.

From Brazil, Andrew and Patricia Garcia immigrated, under asylum, to the barbecue capital and tobacco with $900 and determination to start a new leaf in North Carolina. Her parents took on blue collar jobs--Andrew was a mechanic manager in a car shop two miles down the town’s supermarket where Patricia worked as a retail employee.

While attending elementary, middle, and high school, Isabella was “Ickabella” for her “peculiar” lunches and outfits. GoodWill or Walmart, were popular and decent clothing stores, but heavily rejected by the popular girls who deemed them as “untouchables”. The feijoada (black bean and pork stew), moqueca baiana (Brazilian fish) were seem as “smelly”. One day, mini-Isabella sat on a lone bench in the playground eating feijoada promised herself to have nice Target clothes when she became a grow-up!

The three painful and passion years in UNC School of Law pushed Isabella to learn to defend the constitutional rights of all people regardless of social class, skin color, sex and to show empathy to her clients.

Weren’t lawyers straight level-headed and dictated by logic?

Yes, but Isabella’s parents taught her “Nunca pierdas tu corazon por las personas.”

Never lose your heart to people.

Now, it doesn’t mean Isabella would throw a chair or a glass of water to the opposing client or attorney.

Moving into the a new place required ordering furniture, organizing boxes, and googling decoration ideas for the condo.

Contemporary or minimalist-styled curtains? 

Ring! Isabella rushed to the door. “Hello?”

“Ms. Isabella,” the delivery man dressed in a khaki uniform reading off a clipboard. “A single master’s mirror and a dresser.”

“Correct.”

“Can we come in?”

“Yes.”

“Boys! Bring it up!” Two strong African American proceeded with the mirror then the dresser.

Isabella sat on the kitchen’s metal bar stool with her Mac laptop popping out displays of curtains.

Contemporary or minimalist-styled curtains?

Ring!

An Amazon package was sitting on the “Welcome” mat. Inside of the box were filled with favorites likes “Don Quixote”, “1984”, “Emma”, and a brand-new copy of “Happy Potter and the Deathly Hallows”. Isabella doesn’t have any shame telling anybody that Happy Potter rocks and Twilight could burn in the deepest pit of Hades.

Settings the books aside on the marble counter, Isabella scrolled through Google images.

Contemporary or minimalist-styled curtains?

Ring!

A Nordstrom package, which contained two suits and shoes--a light-weight ballet slip and Halogen heels. Her favorite and wore out blazer, a dark blue hue, was retired in a box labeled “Trophies of 2016.” That over-wore blazer won her first case--Jade vs. Jessica; a case that was covered by North Carolina presses and news for months until a verdict was finalized: Jade was guilty in forging Jessica’s identify to gain the inheritance left by their father.

Contemporary or minimalist-styled curtains?

Ring!

Groceries. 

She threw everything into the already disorganized fridge. Back to business.

Contemporary or minimalist-styled curtains?

Ring!

“Hello Ms. My name is David and I’m working for ‘Pest-No-More INC’,” he pointed to the logo on his T-shirt. “Today, we are running a great promotion--”

“David, excuse, I am not interested in your services. I ONLY interested in choosing between contemporary and minimalist styles for my curtains, and, as I can tell, your services can not do that for me. Thank you and have a nice day!” Isabella slammed the door at the shocked 20-year-old face.

“Women and their menstrual cycles.” She heard the young man scolded before knocking on the neighbor’s door.

Isabella clicked on the geometric pattern image and stared at in approval. The colors popped against the bland white walls of the living room.

Ring!

Isabella swing opened the door, revealing a terrified pizza delivery girl. “Hi Ms. Isabella. You ordered a p-pepperoni pizza with no artichokes,” holding the box as if it was a peace truce.

“Thank you,” Isabella pulled a $10 bill and handed to the girl. “You stay safe in the rain.”

“Thank you Ms. Isabella,” the girl happily accepted the tip. “Enjoy the pizza.” She run off to the staircase.

College years.

Mid-way in enjoying the warm pizza, the door bell rung once again.

Ring!

Isabella wasn’t going to depart this perfect companion of a food. 

Ring! Ring!

 “Bella?”

“Hermana?” Sister. Not by blood.

 “Why are you doing here?”

“Bella, you don’t remember anything?”

“What am I suppose to remember?”

“Today is your birthday--April 27,” the 22 year-old held up a black and white gift bag. “You told me to drop by at 3.”

“Claire, my goodness. Yes, please come in.” Isabella widened the door. “This day has been ordinary and a tad extraordinary.”

“I have a surprise for you.” A little boy slyly peeked from Claire’s legs. “Chris, could you say hello to Bella.”

The boy waved in a demure manner.

“Hey Chris,” Isabella kneeling down, hoping it made the boy more comfortable. “How was the Metro?”

“Very long and big! Longer than my all of trains put together.”

“You can put your train in her place, Chris,” Claire looked at her friend. “Because you will be moving in next month.”

“Claire, what are you talking about?” Isabella demanded. “He will be living with me?”

Claire handed Isabella the gift bag. “Open it.”

Isabella removed the polka dot tissue papers and took out a thick manila folder tie with a turquoise color ribbon.

“Those are the adoption papers.”

“I thought, they rejected my application.” Isabella applied to adopt a kid and really loved kids but her overall health won’t permit her to conceive one.

“I spoke with a friend who spoke to a friend of a friend,” Claire said. “The person who rejected your application was going through a nasty divorce and you were her victim of the day.”

“Shit, really?”

“Really. Chris will be fully yours next month and will be staying with my parents and I until you get everything set up.”

“Claire...” Isabella hugged her. “Thank you.”

“Did you order a cake?,” Claire and Chris entered into the apartment.

“Nope. Do you flavor do you two want?”

“Vanilla!” the boy’s brown eyes sparkled.

“You got it little man.”

Now, Isabella has the chance to pick curtains with two people

A best friend and a child of her own while munching on cake.

What a great ordinary day it turned out to be.