Where The Heart Stayed
n't usually one for long lunches, but it was a Friday in summer, and I owed Nancy a favor after bailing on a play she'd wanted to see. As an editor always chasing fresh
er, was ver
wagyu slices were out of the question for a person seven months pregnant. Nancy was tall and waifish, with dyed-periwinkle hair and pale white skin. She had dark freckles across her cheeks and alorer look, tan trousers, white button-down, suspenders - he was unmistakable. Next to him, I felt underdressed in my free Everything Café T-shirt, old light-wash jeans
ehow I had not planned for this outing in the slightest. To be fair, it w
eed. "It's much better than that
njoy how all of their drinks
y Dickinson gave me
now that article I sent you? The one in Eater? The author, Alfred Chado, is th
book with us?" Nancy ask
r, a plebeian? Absolutely not. A cookbook would be
n Saturday, as I hauled a record player into the elevator, Nancy confessed she'd never swim in the ocean again. Still, Dave had a gift - he could see what s
between the two of us. "My instincts were right abou
still getting over the play I saw last week
amusement park thriller. It's going to be phenomenal. And this chef . . . I know this chef is special. I
e's a story ther
here is. Ri
ooked at me
d in that way of hers that will end up making their future c
tes food to friendship and memories-I want him." He turned his hungry gaze toward the kitchen. "I
ilding - but mostly stuck to Midtown, where options were limited. I'd eaten more food truck sandwiches and lobster mac and chee
his dessert menu," I said, pointing to the first i
nformed us as Nancy snatched the menu from me t
with some granular sugar on a graham cr
it is, we should probably order it and he
sert menu at me. "No one works on Fridays i
men in the business. If there was a bestseller to be had in a book, she knew exactly how to squeeze it out, and that was a talent in and of itself.
eement. "Murphy's
herself sick this morning because of her boyfr
o-Rob," Da
eo-Rob,"
er elbows on the table. Oh, I knew that look, and I inwardly supp
ou and Fr
r she stared at me waiting for an answer, the less resolve I h
ersonally insulted. "Last mont
. The night you all
Dave added, more curious
hat's important! And it's been over a month? Yo
ugged. "It was over text messages. I think h
le anyway." Which was true, but I didn't include the fight we had before the texts. Fight was a strong wo
?" he'd asked. "You know this is my
ight of a gallery with his work. He was an artist-a m
remember what the emergency had been to make me stay late. He was quiet for a long moment,
're
had to be. People had enough to worry about without adding me to the list. That was the whole appeal of Lola Figmud: she always
en know you anymore. You won't open up, won't be vulnerable. Wh