half as smart as you when I’m fifty-nine.”
“You’re already ahead of where I was at twenty-nine.”
“How?”
“You asked why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I wore the dress.”
She smiled.
“I spent too many years simply watching people.”
“You ask questions.”
“That gets you to understanding faster.”
Then she kissed my cheek.
Walked to her car.
And drove away.
I stayed on the sidewalk for another minute.
I thought about her working two jobs.
About those Saturday nights when she stood silently in my bedroom doorway.
About Farrow’s.
The marble
