The rain does not stop until just after dinner, in that melancholy half hour of dusk. Matthias takes me outside on the wet porch. We watch the sky change colors. The smell of clean, wet earth is everywhere, and the magnolia tree. It is too lovely an evening to mention CPR training or Valerie.
Rita, the cook, waves goodbye as she walks toward the parking lot.
Ciao, Anna! I’ll see you and the girls all tomorrow, at lunch.
Matthias and I wave back. A demain, Rita, ciao! Then just the two of us again.
Do you remember Costa Rica?
I ask Matthias out of the blue.
Of course I remember Costa Rica. It was only a few months ago.
It could not have been. Was it really?
It feels like a long time ago.
Matthias says nothing, but I reminisce:
The whole trip was magical. I was telling the girls today about the strawberries in Arenal. You bought me an entire crate, remember? They were so delicious and red—
I remember.
Flat response.
I am missing something.
Is something wrong, Matthias?
No, everything’s fine.
Please tell me.
He sits up and looks at me:
It was a beautiful trip, Anna, but it was also very difficult. Do you remember why I bought a whole crate?
Because I love strawberries.
No, because they were all you would eat. Do you remember your legs giving out while we were hiking up to the crater?
I had forgotten that part.
Do you remember the crater?
Not very well.
Anna, you had fainted.
His voice is edgy.
Do you remember the pool?
I do not.
You never went there. It was right by our room and the most pristine beach was less than a minute away, but you were too cold to wear a bathing suit, Anna. The sea breeze made you cry.
I had not even walked on the beach.
Do you remember the all-you-can-eat buffet at the resort? You only ate the fruits, for four days, Anna. You did not even look at the other foods. Do you remember the beach bar?
I do not.
Do you remember the gym?
I do.
He looks very sad.
I remember Costa Rica. I remember seeing an old lady walk toward me and realizing it was you. I remember the day you finally wore a dress and the little boy who saw you and cried. I remember stopping at every fruit and vegetable stand I could find. I remember not being able to sleep at night, listening to your heart, praying it wouldn’t stop. I remember Costa Rica, Anna. Do you?