Annie stole a fry before Rosa had fully turned away.
“You learn quickly.”
“I had an excellent instructor.”
The café was busier than usual. Families sat beneath the umbrellas. Divers came in from morning trips. Two men near the counter argued over whether sunscreen expired.
Annie chose the seat with her back to most of the room.
She did it casually.
Automatically.
I noticed anyway.
“So,” I said, “how long are you staying?”
Her hand paused near the fries.
There it was.
The question I had been avoiding because Hank was right and tourists arrived with departure dates.
“A few more days.”
“How many is a few?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You don’t have a return flight?”
“I have options.”
That sounded expensive.
And complicated.
Very Annie.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
She studied me.
“You’re not asking why?”
“You’ll tell me when you want to.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll assume you’re hiding from a deeply competitive knitting league.”
“I don’t knit.”
“Damning evidence.”
Her smile appeared but did not quite reach her eyes.
