"Don't worry about it. I'll get you home."
"Are you sure?"
"Go and get your things."
She walked away, turned to look over her shoulder and shook her head.
I took that to mean she thought I was crazy to do all that driving when it was simpler to do it her way. It might have been easier, but I preferred to handle things my way. As of now we were still friends, but if things changed, I didn't want her to doubt that I respected her. I would also do everything in my power to treat her like a lady.
The second time I ate with her, I took her home although she lived twenty minutes away from me in Fort Lauderdale. She didn't drive and depended on cabs, as well as her brother, to get her wherever she wanted to be. According to Gina, driving in Miami was hazardous to her health and people seemed more reckless than those in Kingston. Her fear gave me a reason to drop her home on the evenings we saw each other.
When she found out I lived twenty minutes away, she was stumped. I killed her protests by telling her to allow me to treat her the way I'd treat any woman. She didn't buy it, but I got her home safe despite her protests.
Gina was becoming a habit that would be hard to break. I now looked forward to seeing her at the gym and though I'd caught people looking at us funny a time or two, it didn't bother me. What she’d think if she noticed, I didn't know.
In exactly ten minutes, she strode past the reception desk. I wrapped up the conversation I was having with one of the members and held the door for Gina. My car was a few parking spaces away and when we got there, I opened the door on her side. By the time I got into my seat, Gina was moving between radio stations and eventually settled on one playing old love songs.
I kept my eyes on the traffic and she relaxed and closed her eyes, leaving me with my thoughts. I glanced across at her, wondering what she was thinking. She had a slight smile on her face and when I looked again, she reached up and let out her hair, finger combing it around her shoulders.
Softly, she said, "Kofi?"
"Hmm."
"Tell me about Ghana again."
"Does this have anything to do with the song that was just on the radio?"
She nodded. "Yup,Half A World Awaygot me thinking."
Sparing her a glance, I asked, "About what?"
Gina turned her head toward me and smiled in a dreamy way. "While you were growing up over there, I was half a world away in Jamaica."
"So what do you want me to talk about this time?"
"The food."
"What about it?"
"What would you eat on a typical day?" She sounded as if she was really wanted to know, so I talked about dishes she might have heard of—Jollof Rice, Fufu and meat pies.
"Those sound like patties," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Except for the green pepper and the puff pastry, it could be the same thing."
"They're delicious," I said.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I bet they're not better than our patties."
"Mmm. I am withholding judgement."
"Do you even know what a patty is?"
"Of course, I do. I have Jamaican friends you know. You people are everywhere."
She laughed. "That's true. Tell me more. So you've had patties before? Who are your friends?"
"Yes, I've eaten it. It's good, just a little different. And based on what I do, I meet a lot of people."
Gina arched one brow. "That doesn't tell me who you know."
