Reinventing Mona
Adam Zigfried that you’ve gone off the deep end like this? Give me three good reasons I should be rooting for this relationship to work out between the two of you.”
    “First of all, his name is Adam Ziegler, not Zigfried.”
    “Oh, now I’m convinced. What a great reason.”
    “It’s not a reason. I just wanted to let you know so you can get used to saying his name correctly. After all, it’ll be my name too soon.” I smiled, mocking my own confidence.
    “You plan to take his name? Is there going to be anything left of the old Mona when you’re done?”
    “Greta, you’ve turned into a real drama queen.”
    I rolled my eyes, huffing and puffing as the Pacific Ocean scrolled behind us. “I’m certainly not the first woman to take her husband’s last name. It’s not like I’m handing him my right leg.” This particular limb came to mind only because of the pain shooting through it at that moment. We nodded to our fellow runners along the smooth ocean sidewalk. A cluster of tire-sized rocks formed a wall that separated us from the expansive white beach. I inhaled deeply, partly to get oxygen into my body, and partly to take in the paradise around us. Where else in the country were people jogging in T-shirts along palm tree-lined beach walks just a week before Christmas? My grandfather seemed to only make smart decisions, from buying a home on the ocean to being one of the pioneers of the canned tuna industry. San Diego, I sighed silently. God was definitely having a good day when he made this patch of the world.
    “Women don’t have to do things simply because others before them have,” Greta treaded lightly.
    “What happened to free choice?”
    “What happened to free thinking?”
    “You’re so right, Greta. Taking Adam’s name is going to evaporate my brain. My whole identity is going to be absorbed right into his. I am that stupid. Why are you so against this when you know it’s going to make me happy?”
    Greta didn’t look in my direction as she spoke. Naval planes flew above her; nothing could distract her. “I don’t believe in looking to other people to make yourself happy, that’s all,” she said, definitely with more than just Adam Ziegler in mind. “Mona, you are a wonderful person, but it breaks my heart that you don’t seem to realize that. I noticed you never did give me those three reasons. And what in God’s name are you thinking wanting to ask advice from that idiot, The Dog?”
    “Have you read his column?” I asked.
    “I’ve heard about it. He’s frighteningly chauvinistic.”
    “That’s exactly why,” I said. “You always tell me to embrace what I fear. Believe me, I’ve read his column and this guy is scary. He’s going to give me the insight into the way men think and not worry about political correctness. He’s the real deal, the inside track into Guy World.”
    “Why would you want to be with a small-minded Neanderthal, though, Mona?”
    “I don’t. Adam isn’t that way at all. Adam is sensitive and gentle and kind, but if I can understand men through the eyes of a total jerk, I’ll be able to handle Adam, no problem.”
    “This makes absolutely no sense.”
    “It does to me, and frankly, I don’t need your approval of this decision or any other. How’s that for emotional health?”
    “I’d say it’s one step forward, two steps back.”
    We ran a bit less than a mile before my legs could take me no farther.  “I don’t have any patients this morning. Would you like to grab a cup of coffee at Starbucks?” Greta asked.
    “Sure, but I’ve got to be honest with you, Greta. I have no patience either this morning. Can we drop Adam?”
    “I’d love to drop Adam.” She smiled. “Okay, I’ll let it go. I know I can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but do understand it’s only because I care about you.” It rang with such genuine truth. I knew I could never stay angry with Greta for too long. Sometimes her timing was perfect.
    I changed the

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