“So how did your call with your grandparents go?”
“Great! They’re doing so well. And I suspect they’re probably having the most romantic time right now.”
“How come?”
“It’s their anniversary. I usually call them on Sundays, but this week I did it a day early.”
“Really? If I had to call my folks every week, I’d go bald from stress. What do you talk about?”
“Anything and everything. Sometimes it’s enough just to say hello. But this time, we talked a little bit about you,” she says.
“That I saved you from getting poisoned from expired Advil?” What would she have told her family about me? Someone like Sadie would say, “He’sreallyimportant. His dad istheTed Lasker and his mom istheAthena Grant.” It wouldn’t be that critical to her what kind of personIwas. Part of me wants to know what Aspen thinks of me, but there’s also a part that doesn’t. As long as I don’t know, I can pretend she thinks I’m as amazing as the creators of the tango.
“No, never! That’d make them worry too much. I told them you saved me from Professor Taylor. They were…impressed. They danced professionally and won some tango competitions when they were younger. They teach now.” Her gaze grows tender with affection, and a weird aching sensation spreads through me.
“That’s awesome. So you must’ve been horrified by how Taylor ‘led’ you around.” I make a mental note to file an anonymous complaint with the college about his behavior the second I’m done with the transfer applications, which are due soon.
“Yes.” Aspen rolls her eyes. “I have no clue what he was thinking. By the way, this is one of the reasons why I haven’t danced since I came here, even though I love it. It’s hard to find a partner who’s good and has the right schedule.”
Bad as it sounds, I’m happy she hasn’t been able to find a decent partner. I don’t like the idea of some other guy holding her.
Our server returns with our food. He asks Aspen if she wants freshly grated parmesan, and she turns it down. He then asks her if she’d like freshly ground black pepper, which she also declines.
I ask for both. His face collapses a little, but he takes care of me well enough.
Once he’s gone, I dig into the huge portion. The sauce has the intense flavor of tomatoes and herbs you can get only if you make it from scratch. The chicken is tender and perfectly cooked. It’s one of the best chicken parmesans I’ve ever had.
“How do you like it?” she asks after my first bite.
“Fantastic. The sauce reminds me of a home-cooked meal I had at a friend’s place in Tuscany, although chicken parmesan isn’t really Italian, the way General Tso’s chicken isn’t really Chinese.”
“You know what? Suyen complains about Chinese restaurants in America all the time, for the same reason!”
“Because she knows.” Then I gesture at her pasta. “How’s yours?”
“Good. I waitressed here last year, and this is my favorite.”
“So how come you don’t work here now?”Say it’s because Zack is a creeper.
“Because they needed somebody to work during the summer and winter vacations, but I couldn’t. But it doesn’t matter. I got a different job to make up for it.” She takes a sip of her lemonade, then clears her throat. “I feel like I’m talking too much. So…I guess you don’t talk with your parents too often?”
“No.”God no.
“A nanny, then?”
I almost choke on my chicken. “I’m a little old for a nanny.”
“I thought you might’ve had one when you were younger and kept in touch or something.” She shrugs a little.
“My parents didn’t do nannies. I was shoved into a boarding school when I was old enough to talk.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “That didn’t bother you?”
“Nah. It was for the best. Helped me become independent. Figure out what I want to do.”
“Which is…?”
“Enjoy the moment. Not worry about stuff that doesn’t matter. And most things don’t matter.”I have a feeling you’re becoming one of the very few things that do matter.And I like that. It’s new and exciting. “Do you talk to your parents often too, like you do with your grandparents?” I ask, wanting to turn the conversation away from my folks and also to get to know her better.
