“Yes, men my age knowSeinfeld,” I preempted her question.
She let out a dry chuckle.
Singing, chuckling, Seinfeld. Where’s June Raine and what have you done with her?
I noticed her gaze roaming the apartment, which looked like I’d never slept there. The sofa was a sofa, the accordion divider was folded and leaning against a wall in her closet, and my beddings were there, too. I followed her gaze and saw her take in my running shoes that were thrown under the desk.
“So, Jerry is being questioned,” she changed the topic while putting away a few dry dishes. “D’you think he’ll be okay?” She looked at me again. The crease between her eyebrows, that was closer to her right eye, furrowed further and said what her mouth didn’t—d’you thinkwewill be okay?
“He’ll be okay. He’s a businessman, after all. Very shrewd.”
“Shrewd?” Her eyebrows rose, and a little smile indicated she was impressed with my vocabulary.
“What—you thought I only know how to saymama mia, ride a Vespa, suck in pasta and meatballs, and sing, ‘when the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that’s amore?’” I smirked.
“No,” she said defiantly, but the expression on her face was worth it. She looked as if I had caught her naked in the shower. Quickly turning to open the fridge, she added with her back to me, “Did you eat?”
I was looking at her ass that was finally defined under those loose clothes when she bent to look into the fridge and pull boxes out of it.
“Yes.”
We now stood on both sides of the breakfast bar. June threw a gaze at the dish rack where the pan I had used was drying. “Oh, good, you used the same one.”
There she is. The Great June. The shoes, the guitar case, the pan—nothing escaped her.
“You do realize that Mediterranean cuisine is the healthiest, right?” I looked at her until she lowered her eyes and began mixing her greens and legume salad.
“Minus the meat, gluten, and dairy, yes.”
We were silent for some time, and then she looked up again. “It looks like we’ll have at least a full week to prepare, so I thought we could talk about family history today, and maybe a few other things.” Her eyes somehow skittered over my upper body.
“Sure. I met Rio today, by the way,” I said when she sat down and took her first bite.
“She told me. Is the room below okay? You managed to work?”
“It’s perfect. More space than my apartment and much quieter than at the back of Jerry’s shop. There, I’m being called to help with the sales and show off guitars.” After a beat, I added, “And Rio seems great.”
Her fork hovered in the air. She eyed me. “She is.”
“We didn’t discuss details. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.” She took a few more bites then got up. “Would you mind if I took a shower first? I hate sweating, and it’s been a long day. One of my employees quit, and I’ll have to replace her in Wayford every day now.”
“Go ahead.” I didn’t know if it was a hint for me to get out of the apartment, so I just went to the sofa and busied myself with my phone.
Surprisingly, for a tempered woman with a highly organized life, so far, living with June proved to be like improvised jazz—I didn’t know what riff came next, what rule, mood, tempo, feel, tune, or vibe would follow.
When she emerged from the bathroom dressed yet barefoot twenty minutes later, her now familiar smell permeated every nook in the small space.
Running a hand through her wet hair, she came to sit on the sofa not far from me.
I was playing unplugged.
She watched me for a moment until I finished a riff out of Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe.”
“It’s the same color as your car.” June jutted her chin toward my guitar.
“I know.” I smoothed my hand over the slick body of the Strat, a 1965 American original, my eyes following my hand. I loved this damn guitar. I skipped lunch breaks and worked nights in a factory, packing shipments after finishing at Luigi’s, to be able to afford her. She arrived damaged. The guy who had brought her to the shop had been looking to make some extra. Even in her state, she’d been worth more than the newer ones of other popular brands. I had taken care of her, fixed her, and had saved up to buy her.
