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Show Moon -199 She'd thought of greeting him with, "Long time no see," but she's not sure now she wants that tone. She wonders what he's thinking of saying. They stand like that, bent over the table, thinking of what to say or what not to say. Then they laugh and sit down, order coffee. > Finally he says, "Well," and she says, "Yes," and they laugh again. He seems to decide to break this ironic pose, leans forward on his elbows and says, "I'm glad you called." "You are?" She looks down at her lap wondering if she wants to cry a little. "I wasn't sure I should." "You made that clear. But of course you should call me, and I'm sorry you needed to question that, and for so long." The waitress brings the coffee. He lights a cigarette. His fingers are stained with nicotine and paint. They are long, nicely shaped. She holds up her hand to compare. He says, "Yes, there's a resemblance, but you favor your mother even though you're fair. She was a beautiful woman." She nods. "How did she die?" She knows this question calls for a simple answer, like "Complications of multiple sclerosis," but it strikes her as a larger question, with many questions embedded, like, "Did she die with a smile or was she afraid? Did she die with words or in silence? Who was with her? Who was absent? Did she ever speak of me?" He is looking at her quizzically, but she doesn't think she's ready to spill out these workings of her mind, so she tells him the simple facts of her illness. |