Annoying noise on the table. Abbreviated gyrations. Receipt of a text message.
Pleasantries from New York City followed by a request and an invitation.
A friend needs a place to stay overnight.
She will miss the last ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. Plans to open her island house for the summer. Why don’t I join her for the weekend? Is it June already?
I love the Vineyard and the sea. But, I’m exhausted from work and the last weekend activities.
Affirmative response to the request and negative one for the invitation.
That night, my dreams are filled with the sound of waves, silvery fish, seahorses, the warmth of the sun, a beach and seashells.
It’s late when she arrives on Friday evening. Gift of lovely white roses.
We chat: her son’s graduation, relationship with her husband and his Indian family, the Martha’s Vineyard house, her new job. I complain about the usual.
We’re up early the next morning, she to catch the ferry at Woods Hole, me for my weekly swim at the Y.
I navigate as she hastily drives through Harvard Square then on to Central Square.
“How pretty Cambridge is,” she remarks.
She drops me off at the YMCA and I watch the back of her car disappear down Massachusetts Avenue.