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Show Motherlunge a novel 46 "Two things to tell you," I said to Pavia. "First: mom. She called yesterday and said she's coming for Christmas." "I know. She's been threatening for a while. They're driving, if you can believe it." "Who's 'they'?" "She's with that guy. Joseph." "Well," I said. I stomped my feet to dislodge imaginary snow. "Maybe she still won't make it. Maybe she'll get distracted." "Maybe." We ordered coffee and pastries and carried them to one of the little metal tables near the window. Outside, a small group of young men sang Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in Latin. "Is it possible to sing in one of these a capella groups without that... expression on your face?" I asked. i Pavia shrugged. Elbow to elbow at the table, we watched the young men keening with their hands in their long bankers' coats, mugging and harmonizing. We plunged our pastries in our coffee cups in between bites and watched the singers start the song again. Despite myself I began to hum along. Reno erat Rudolphus Nosum rubum habebat Si quando nunc videbas Hunc candere tu dicas "What's the second thing?" Pavia asked at last. "Second thing to tell me?" |