Next morning, I met Mistou and Anali in the lobby of the Mercer.
“Let’s walk over to Balthazar,” I suggested. “I want you girls to see more than just the Mercer.”
Mistou and I were side by side for the duration of the five-minute walk. Every so often I’d reach out and touch her elbow, steering her out of the way of something on the sidewalk. She’d tap me on the arm whenever I said something she seemed to find funny. Anali was in the third wheel position, but the context of her chatter led me to believe she was poised to bail on us as soon as plans with her outer-borough loverboy had been solidified.
The night before, I’d used the black card concierge service to secure a corner banquette inside. And it was a good thing I did, because that restaurant was packed. Mainly with tourists, but still- packed. Mistou and I sat next to each other, with barely any space between us. Anali positioned herself a little farther down the table- she spent most of the meal texting someone, presumably her once and future boyfriend.
After breakfast, while we were waiting for the check, Anali asked us what our plans were for the day. Mistou and I looked at each other and shrugged.
“We haven’t thought about it, really,” we both said at the same time and laughed. I felt like a ninth grader with a black card in my pocket and a beautiful girl by my side.
Anali smiled at us and said, “Well, hopefully you two lovebirds won’t be too mad if I dip out on you. Rahul wants to meet up at Columbus Circle and take me on a picnic in Central Park.”
“Rahul is her little second grade boyfriend,” Mistou editorialized to me.
“What time is your dinner thing tonight?” Anali asked me.
“It starts at nine, so I’ll stop by and pick Mistou up around eight-thirty.”
“And plans for tomorrow?” she continued.
I was getting major project management vibes from this woman. Maybe I could give her my job in Panama and move to Miami to hang out with Mistou. Gianina probably wouldn’t like that too much.
“I’d love to have you join me at my parents’ house for dinner,” I replied.
Anali said she’d see how the Central Park date went before she agreed to anything. I looked at Mistou- she gave a noncommittal shrug.
The three of us walked out of the restaurant. Anali said she had to get ready for her date and then took off.
Mistou and I stood there for a second, alone for the first time since our brief meeting in Miami.
She broke the silence.
“I saw a bunch of really cute cafes on Prince Street yesterday. Want to go sit outside, have a glass of wine and chat for a little bit?”
That was exactly what I wanted to do.
We found a picture-perfect French restaurant with shaded outdoor seating. I ordered a bottle of Sancerre. When the wine was poured Mistou commenced her soft-focus grilling.
“Soooo,” she began, as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, “could you really, really, really not find anyone else to bring to this dinner?”
I’d expected this to be a topic of conversation. I decided to be dead honest. If it made me look like a loser or a weirdo, then oh well. She already knew I was a weirdo.
“Truthfully,” I said, “I don’t date.”
She gave me a skeptical look and took a slow sip of wine.
“No, really. I don’t.”
“You don’t or you can’t?” she asked.
“That’s the exact same thing you said to me when I told you I don’t dance,” I threw back at her.
She laughed and said, “Touché.”
But I really didn’t want to turn this into banter, so I tried to explain myself without getting too heavy.
“I know how to be social, but I don’t like it that much. I have friends, I have a good job, I travel. But I just don’t like superficial conversation and I’m not out there, you know, like, hunting for girls.” I paused to see if this was sounding too crazy.
“Go on,” she said quietly. I knew she was waiting to see if I was getting to any big revelatory point, so I pushed through.
“Had you said no,” I continued, “I could’ve asked Mundo’s father- you know, my boss, to find someone to go with me. And that woulda been fucking weird. Or I could’ve gone alone, which woulda been painful for everyone.” I broke off and picked up my wine glass.
She nodded and waited for me to continue. I knew I was lowkey being grilled, but I plunged back in.
“And I had a moment of ‘fuck it’ and texted you. That’s really it. You’re the only woman I’ve met in the past… forever… who I met and felt any attraction to. And we texted here and there, and I thought of you when I was in Haiti, and then when this stupid thing came up I just took a chance and asked you.”
Now I nodded at her. She smiled.
“And that’s it,” I finished.
“Well,” she said, with a smile in her voice to let me know she was half-teasing, “you are a weirdo. And I guess it’s a good thing crazy Anali is obsessed with her second-grade crush. But I’m glad I came. And I’m liking being with you. So, we’re good.”
Then she reached across the table and scooped my hand up into hers.
