“I had forgotten.”
Rosa pointed her serving spoon in my direction.
“You remember everything.”
The café was quieter than usual, though not empty. A family ate near the windows, and three men from the marina occupied their usual places at the counter. Everyone had recognized Annie. Most had also managed to continue eating, which counted as restraint by island standards.
A teenage girl approached while we waited for pie.
She held her phone in both hands and looked close to losing the ability to speak.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Could I get a picture?”
Annie glanced at me, then at Rosa.
“This is your restaurant.”
Rosa folded her arms.
“One photograph. No flash. Then you finish dessert.”
The girl nodded quickly.
Annie stood and moved away from the table so nobody else appeared in the background. She asked the girl’s name, posed for the photograph, and signed the phone case because there was no paper nearby.
When the girl returned to her family, Annie sat down again.
“You didn’t need my permission,” I said.
“I asked Rosa.”
“You looked at me first.”
“I wanted to know whether you were comfortable.”
“I was.”
“Good.”
She reached for her water.
“I don’t need you to check every time someone recognizes you.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you?”
“I’m trying to understand the difference between being considerate and operating under a municipal permit.”
“That may take practice.”
“I have two days.”
“Do not attempt mastery.”
Rosa arrived with pie and ended the discussion.
Annie took one bite and closed her eyes.
