I throw her a look.
“Mom, the pastor basically just hijacked his dinner. I don’t think the guy is really thinking this is a major date or anything.” I roll my eyes.
The two of them exchange a conspiratorial glance, and I sigh. A double date is great, but I’m not about to consider throwing all of my plans away for a guy I haven’t even met yet.
“I’m just looking forward to a nice night out, and that’s it,” I say, applying the finishing touch to my outfit—the lipstick.
My sister claps her hands and jumps up.
“Alright, I’ve gotta throw on some new clothes for tonight too.”
“Oh really? I thought your swimsuit would be perfect to go to church in.” I grin at her.
She rolls her eyes.
I laugh. “Alright I’ll be out in fifteen minutes.”
I move into the living room before Gabby’s ready to go so I can spend a little time with Pimenta.
He’s a beautiful bird, I have to say.
“Okay Pimenta. Can you sayalmond?” I offer him a small piece of the almond I’d seen earlier.
Squawk. “No almonds. Strawberries please.” Squawk.
I laugh. “You’re turning into a tiny fruit dictator. You’re so clever,” I say, grabbing some leftover strawberry from my plate. I’d had a little fruit bowl earlier and still had a tiny bit left.
“How could you think he’s anything but clever?” Gabby says as she walks in from the hallway.
I roll my eyes. “I always knew he was clever. I just didn’t realize he was in the habit of requesting strawberries.”
“He’s in the habit of requesting all of his favorite foods.” She shrugs and grabs the car keys hanging on the wall.
“Ready to go?”
I look at her new outfit and nod in approval. “Yup—and that outfit is super cute on you.”
She grins widely. “I know.”
An eye roll is the only necessary reply. I love that Gabby is a sister and a best friend wrapped up in one.
I finish giving Pimenta his strawberry snack. “Bye Pimenta.”
“Bye-bye Lizzie Bell. Bring more strawberries!” Squawk.
I laugh and shut the door behind me as I step out onto the front porch.
“I actually really like ‘Lizzie Bell’. It’s a fun name,” I tell Gabby as we walk down the stairs to the car. Thankfully the weather is cooperating today. It’s the tail end of winter here in Recife, which really just means the end of the rainy season. It’s pleasantly warm—just the perfect amount—and not too humid, which is great for my hair.
My hair likes to take on a mind of its own when humidity comes out to play. It’s like my hair and humidity enter into a dance together. Maybe not even a dance—that sounds graceful, like the waltz. Maybe I should describe it better as a wrestling match. Humidity always wins and my hair puffs up with leftover pride.
We both get in the car.
“I love that my hair is tame today. I hope it stays that way.” I look in the car mirror, just to double-check my hair hasn’t betrayed me already.
She looks over as she turns the car on.
“You’re safe. But I have to say, it gives ‘lioness’ vibes when the humidity hits it.”
