Mistou did wind up coming over to Bed Stuy for dinner the next night. Anali and her man, Rahul, joined us as well. The four of us kicked it with my parents in the backyard for a while after we ate, then I took them over to Madiba for cocktails. The clientele at my old stomping grounds had radically changed since the days when Mundo and I would use the restaurant as our satellite office, but the drinks were still strong.
Afterwards, Anali and Rahul said they were heading to Queens for a Trini house party.
“Don’t forget check-out is at two tomorrow and we need to be at the airport by four,” Mistou called after Anali. Then she turned to me and said, “I want to see your apartment.”
Dropping Mistou off at the airport the next day was bittersweet. The weekend was successful. I loved being with her. But she had a life in Miami and I was heading to Panama.
Mistou pulled my face down towards hers, kissed my lips and rubbed her nose against mine. She told me she’d call me as soon as she was home. Anali gave me a wave and a quick, “Thanks for everything,” and then they were off.
I watched them enter the terminal, put the zo reken into drive and headed to Hopeton’s house.
