take good care of your mom,” I say.
“I try,” Joe says. “There are a lot of people around during the day. Everyone who works on the farm checks in on her. At some point, I’ll have to find a facility for her. I keep putting it off. I’m not ready to let her go.”
I put my hand in Joe’s. He squeezes.
“You’re lucky that your mom is healthy,” Joe says.
“Yeah, I am.”
Joe says, “I think it’s the slowness of the deterioration that bothers me most. I want to die like my father died. He keeled over in the fields. That’s what he would’ve wanted. No hospitals. Just—boom. Done. Nature taking its course.” Joe puts his hand over mine. “What about your father?”
“There was nothing natural about his death,” I say. “He was hooked up to tubes and machines. The doctors were feeding him intravenously, and you know what Dad said? ‘Needs a little salt.’”
Joe laughs. He puts his arm around me. I move closer to his body. Looking at Cooper River, Joe says, “I’m sorry that I didn’t get to meet your dad.”
Tears spring into my eyes. What is this with Joe? He says these sentimental things that make me all emotional. Blinking, I say, “You’d have liked my dad. And I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your father.”
“Oh, he would have loved you.” Joe leans his head against mine.
We sit quietly.
Eventually, I speak. “Fun date, huh?”
“It’s not so bad. I like talking about my dad.”
“Me, too. It’s good to have you to talk to, Joe.”
“Yeah? Well, I think we’ve had enough talking.” Joe moves my head backward and puts his mouth on mine. We sit in the sun, kissing.
Mango Men
“Joe is such a good kisser.” Madeline has come to Café Louis for dinner, and I’m updating her on the Joe-Aaron situation. “Aaron’s good, too.”
Madeline is eating French fries for dinner. Even chefs eat junk food. Madeline points a fry at me. “Did you give them the mango test?”
“What’s the mango test?” Christopher asks as he sashays down the counter.
“Is this a sex thing?” Fly Girl appears from nowhere. “Tell me.”
Madeline smiles. “If a man will eat a mango, he’ll eat you.”
“I’m going to vomit,” Christopher says.
Fly Girl frowns. “I thought that test was about sushi.”
I say, “That equates women with raw fish. That’s not right.”
“Plus, sushi comes with rice,” Madeline explains. “And soy sauce. Or a man could say that he eats sushi, but all he really eats is a California roll. Which doesn’t even have raw fish. Nope, mangoes are the way to go. Mimi and I have given this much thought.”
“You guys rock,” Fly Girl says.
“How old are you?” It suddenly occurs to me that this may not be age-appropriate for her.
“I’m twenty,” she tells me.
“The other thing,” Madeline continues, “is that it’s not simply if he will eat a mango, but how. Does he use a knife and cut the mango into small pieces?”
I say, “Does he cut the mango into big, juicy slices?”
“Or…” Madeline laughs. “Does he bite into the mango and get the juice all over his face?”
“Gross beyond gross,” Christopher moans.
“Then stop listening, Chrissie,” I tell him. “Anyway, no. I haven’t given either Joe or Aaron the mango test. But I’m sure Joe eats mangoes, and eats them well. He knows food.”
“I bet chefs make great lovers,” Fly Girl says dreamily.
“We do.” Madeline grins.
“Even the men?” Fly Girl asks.
“Male chefs make great lovers but bad boyfriends,” Madeline tells her. “On the plus side, they are used to putting all kinds of things in their mouths. They are very sensual. They pay attention to details. Also, they have lots of time in the afternoon between lunch and dinner. Chef sex in the afternoon. Nothing like it. So, by all means, have sex with a chef. Just don’t date one.”
“Don’t tell her that,” I reprimand. “She’s young and impressionable.”
“Better she learn now,” Madeline answers as she chews on a French fry.
“If chefs are great lovers, why not date them?” Fly Girl asks.
“Because,” Madeline continues, “he’ll work nights, weekends, and holidays. He’ll be dictatorial, because in the kitchen he’s the big boss and he won’t turn it off at home. Also? Think of all the waitresses running around as temptations.”
I groan.
“Sorry,” Madeline apologizes.
“It’s all right,” I tell her. “Seems like ages ago. I’m ready for a new mango man.”
Christopher leans over the counter. “Do you think the same test works with bananas?”
Here Comes the Sun
Humidity is my least favorite thing about summer. It builds, rises, increases