Our bond is unique and precious. Even thoughshe understands it wasn’t her fault, it took her a while to workpast the guilt about what the ex had done. She’s in a good placenow, and in her I have a special person who will always be in mylife who I can trust and love.
The bells tinkle over the door and I look upto see her walking toward me. Her face is glowing, her smile wide,and she has huge sunglasses resting on the top of her head, pushingher hair off her forehead. Her slender frame is draped in a scarfwrapped loosely around her neck about six times, worn over a denimjacket that covers a long flowy dress in multicolor geometricpatterns. She’s the picture of a lovely young woman channeling herinner artist.
I stand and move away from my chair, lean in,and hug her. “You look great,” I murmur into her hair as she hugsme back. Two sparrows. We’re the same height and body type – petiteand small-boned, though I have ass and thighs, and Sofia doesn’t. Istep back and take her in. “Aren’t you cold?” Late September inBoston means autumn is definitely in the air, and today is windyand cloudy.
She yanks up her dress to show me she’swearing bright red tights and clunky lace-up boots. “Fully kittedout.”
I grab her hand and squeeze. “So British.Matteo’s rubbing off on you.”
Her cheeks pink. “Well, yeah.” She smiles thesmile of the besotted. “We’re living together, even though myparents think I’m doing the whole dorm life thing. I mean, we leavethe house early – he has to be at work at eight-thirty and I haveclasses that start at eight – and I live in my studio or in thelibrary, and don’t get home until after eight most nights. We eat,we talk, we…you know,” she grins, “and bam, we’re asleep to do itall over again the next day. So we’re living together for aboutfour hours a day.”
“Sounds horrendous.” I motion for her to sitas I retake my seat. “You look miserable. I’m worried.”
She grins again. “I know. Right?” She looksat my drink. “What’s that?”
“Cafe s?a dá.It’s Vietnamese icedcoffee made with condensed milk. Super sweet and fabulous. Theircoffee is strong, like espresso.”
“Yum. I’ll have one of those. What do yourecommend?”
I open the sizable menu and find manyauthentic dishes. Sofia has become an adventurous eater, so I picktwo appetizers and two main courses. “To start, the crispy springrolls, and shrimp paste on sugarcane. Then onto theKho To,which is salmonen casserolecooked with caramelizedpeppercorn sauce and is topped with cilantro. It’s a real treat,and let’s haveBanh Hoi Tom Noung, which is grilled shrimpthey roll into rice vermicelli noodles right here at thetable.”
Sofia’s staring with wide eyes. “You do thisevery time. I leave the restaurant so stuffed I can barelymove.”
I laugh. “Memory serves, no one pushes thefood down your throat. You gobble it up.”
She dips her chin.
“Anyway, this is light food. I ordered withyour return to classes after lunch in mind.”
The waiter comes over and I tell him what wewant. After he walks away, Sofia asks, “I’m thrilled you’re here,but you never told me why you’re in Boston on a Thursday.” Before Ican answer she amends, “I mean, when you come it’s usually for aplay or a day at a museum and you stay the weekend and we meet forSunday brunch.”
I love this about her. She goes out of herway to make sure nothing she says can be construed as critical.Sweet down to her clunky boots. “One of my cooking club members isa Klezmer band that performs all over New England. They’re part ofa parade of performers at musical instruments convention, and sheasked me if I wanted to see them. I said yes, and here I am.”
“You foodies are into everything, aren’tyou?”
“We seem to be.” I smiled as the waiterplaced our appetizers on the table. “Dig in.”
A couple of moments later all I hear is “mmm”and “wow” and “mmhmm.”
“I’m guessing you like it.”
She shakes her head. “No. Iloveit.How did I not know this stuff existed?”
I laugh.
“Hey,” she asks, “no work today?”
“I saw three people this morning, oneafternoon appointment cancelled, and I shuffled everyone elsearound.”
“Cool. Playing hookey.”
“In a manner of speaking, yeah, I am.”
A few minutes later our main courses arrive,and I serve up half of each dish onto Sofia’s plate. More “mmmm,wow,” and “mmhmm” with a couple of “Oh my gods” thrown in. Sofianever met food she didn’t like, and she takes in the world withunbridled gusto. This is a woman blossoming under the love and careof a man who looks at her like she hung the moon. I have to say, Iwouldn’t mind some of that for myself.
After shoveling in every last morsel, we’reso full we can’t move. Sofia is holding her belly, and I’m glad I’mnot wearing my skintight jeans.
I, along with all of New England, heard orread the news last week about two college girls being roofied in aBoston nightclub. I have to ask. “Do you go out to clubs with yourfriends?”
