Valeria heads back into the restaurant, Brian to his car, and I start my stroll for home. Well, the apartment.
About one minute into my walk, I hear, “Alex!”
It’s Valeria. She’s walking toward me. “Hey,” I say.
“The bar’s closed, they won’t let me in, and my Uber is still twenty minutes away.”
She’s staring at me, waiting for me to respond. “Okay,” I say, a little dumbfounded.
“Do you have a bathroom I can use?”
“Oh my god, sorry, yes, I do. I didn’t know what you were asking me.”
She laughs lightly. “Yeah, I’m about to pee my pants.”
“Sorry, let’s go, it’s right up here.”
We walk briskly to the stairs that go up to my apartment. I hesitate, wondering if this is okay. Would Dani be fine with it?
“Hey there, Dani and Alex,” comes a voice. “Off to do the graveyard shift. Have fun, kiddos!” It must be Candy. She’s walking by.Shit.
“Bye, Candy,” I say weakly as Valeria and I head up the stairs. I turn to her, “I’ll explain.”
She laughs again. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
She’s easygoing. Inside, I lead her to the bathroom and then walk back down the hallway toward the kitchen. She comes out a couple of minutes later and stops to look at the pictures Dani has put up.
“Have you heard of a nesting apartment?” I say.
“Yes, I have. I figured it was something like that. It’s cool you guys get along well enough to do this for the kids.”
She’s intuitive and observant.
“Well, it’s still in its trial phase.”
I want to know everything about this woman, but I’m uncomfortable and it’s showing with my awkward silences. She holds her phone up.
“Oh no, what is going on? Damn. My Uber was canceled. Another twenty minutes. I’m tempted to start walking.” She laughs.
“No, it’s okay. You can wait here.”
She glances at the bottle of red wine Dani left on the counter. “That’s a good wine, a good year for a pinot.”
“Yes,” I say. I am frozen. The bottle is open, still has three-quarters left. “Would you like a glass?”
“Wow, for moment there I thought I was going to have to send smoke signals.”
I laugh, then walk over, pour two glasses, and hand one to her. We’re still standing near the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, this is a good wine,” I say, though I have no clue what I’m talking about.
“Well, let’s enjoy it. I’ll get the Uber in a few minutes.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 12:45. I don’t think I’ve been up this late since the nineties, but strangely, I’m not tired.
She walks toward the record collection, and I quickly move into gear. “I’ll put some music on.” I’m trying to distract her from the records. I turn on the Bluetooth speaker to an old jazz station. “Have a seat.” I gesture toward the couch and take a seat myself.
She walks to the front of the couch to sit next to me so I instinctively stand to be polite. We’re face-to-face. She moves an inch closer. “Good manners,” she says in a low voice as she bends to set her wine down on the table.
