I’m having you over for lunch. Nothing special. Just pasta, red roasted peppers, and mince. Th especial thing here is that it is the first time we’re having a meal together. You arrive while I’m cooking and ask me if there’s anything you can help with.
– It’s all done – I say as I wink.
– Can I at least set the table?
I pretend I cannot sense you behind me watching every move I make, so I start getting uneasy and I notice my already obvious clumsiness is getting worse. I decide to give in to your command and I turn the stove off for the dish to settle. I remove the flowers from the table and I see how you spread the tablecloth. I like how carefully you use your hand to get rid of the wrinkles.
– Forks? – You ask with your American accent as I melt inside.
I open the first drawer and hand them in to you. I turn to go get a couple glasses and some cool water from the fridge. As I turn back around you’re already there waiting. I serve and we sit at the table. The conversation flows well. You laugh with the faces I make, we look into each other’s eyes as we discuss trivial matters and we forget about the fact that neither the past is al dente nor the peppers are hot enough.
As neither of us can do without coffee, I choose two green capsules while you do the dishes.
– Leave it. I’ll do it myself later.
– I’m already doing it! – This time it is you who winks.
Once the dishes are done, you dry and put everything away, without asking or hesitating where the flatware is. I’m amazed at your ability to spot the details. All done in such a natural way that it astonishes me. It’s not easy to amaze me at this point in my life. And I really like it. A lot.
