In my somber state I did not consider from what fountain came the flow of delightful conversation with friends . . .

Saint Augustine

Chapter Thirteen

Sabina

I knock on the back door, as Ellyn instructed. It was good to have this on my calendar for today, otherwise I would have stayed in my bathrobe, hidden away in the house. Though the antidepressant is helping some, the dense fog of depression still looms most days. It will take time, I know, until I receive the full benefit of the meds. I may also need to convince Dr. Norman to increase the dosage.

I stand on the stoop waiting for Ellyn. When it’s clear she isn’t coming, I knock again—louder. This time my knock is followed by the sound of quick steps inside, heading for the door, which opens with a flourish.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I did that.”

She pushes on the screen door separating us and I step back. “No problem. I didn’t stand here long.”

“Good. Come in. Wow, look how gorgeous you are.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Really, you’re stunning—so exotic. I thought the same thing when I saw you in the doctor’s office.” Ellyn’s smile reaches her green eyes and lights up her face.

“You’re too kind.”

“No, I’m not. Listen, come into the dining room and I’ll introduce you to . . . to . . . Well, just follow me.”

We make our way across her kitchen—the stainless steel countertops and sinks shine, and the tile floors in the kitchen, covered in strategic places with thick rubber mats, are crumb-free. It is a kitchen, I’m happy to see, where the restaurant patrons could eat off the floor if they desired.

Ellyn pushes through the swinging doors leading to the dining room and then holds them open for me.

“Sabina, this is Miles Becker—Dr. Becker—Dr. Norman’s partner.”

Dr. Becker stands from his seat at the table, where it appears they were having coffee. I reach out my hand, “So nice to meet you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Miles. Nice to meet you too.”

I look down at the plate of cookies and the empty latte cups. “I hope I’m not interrupting . . .”

Ellyn’s face blushes a charming shade of pink. “No. Not at all.” Then to Dr. Becker, “Sabina is staying in the village for awhile. We’d planned to get together this afternoon too. I hope you don’t mind. I guess I lost track of time.”

Dr. Becker glances at his watch then back at me. “Sabina, enjoy your time with this lovely lady. And make sure you have one or two of her cookies.”

I watch as he looks back at Ellyn.

“Well gal, thank you for great coffee, great cookies, and great conversation.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then, after what feels to me like an awkward pause, Ellyn heads to the front door of the café with Dr. Becker in tow. I can’t help but overhear their parting conversation in the intimate space of the restaurant.

“I’d like to do this again. Maybe dinner next time? We could go somewhere.”

Ellyn hesitates. I look away and try not to eavesdrop.

“I don’t—”

“Date. I remember. Friends?”

“Friends.”

I imagine Dr. Becker holding out his hand to Ellyn as they make a pact of friendship. What’s wrong with this woman? She must already have a significant other because that man is gorgeous. And he’s a doctor. I remember what Antwone’s mama told me after he’d proposed: “I hoped one of the girls might marry a doctor, but I hadn’t considered one for my son.”

She’d laughed at her own joke. I’d laughed along with her, relieved that she understood, as did Antwone, that I would finish the doctorate program, whether single or married.

Ellyn comes back to the table and begins clearing it. I help her.

“Sorry about that. I meant to have this done before you came.”

“No problem. Like I said, I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

“Interrupt?” She laughs. “No, you saved me.” She picks up the plate of cookies, the napkins, and spoons.

“How so? He seems like a nice man.” I take the cups.

“I don’t need a man. That’s all. And for some warped reason, he’s interested . . . or something. I don’t know for sure.”

I follow her back to the kitchen. “What’s warped about that?”

She stops and turns and looks at me. “What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obvious? No.”

She sets the items she’s holding on the counter and then makes a grand gesture—spreading her arms out, palms up.

“Oh, because you’re a larger woman?”

“Thank you. Finally, someone who is truthful. Yes. What’s wrong with a man that he’d be interested in someone who looks like me?”

I laugh. “Your perspective is skewed.”

“Mine? What about his?”

“His is just fine. You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Ha! What do you know?”

I square my shoulders and lift my chin a bit. “What do you mean, what do I know?”

She takes the latte cups I’m holding and sets them on the counter. “You’re gorgeous, tall, slender, elegant. What would you know about my perspective, or his for that matter?”

“I know plenty.” I put my hands on my hips. “I have a PhD in psychology, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh.” She puts her hands on her hips too. “Well, then, so you’re Dr. Sabina . . .” She pauses. “Wait, what’s your last name?”

I smile. And then I giggle. “Look at us, we’re fighting like sisters and we don’t even know each other’s last name. Not only are you beautiful, you’re feisty too.” I point at her. “I like you.”

“Yeah, well, there’s probably something wrong with you too.” She laughs. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

“You bet I am—it’s clear you need a therapist.”

She shakes her head, still grinning. “Well, you might be right there.”

Then I get serious. “And you’ll be good for me. I need some laughter in my life.”

“Why? What’s your problem? C’mon, fess up, we’ve already established my problem.”

I hesitate and then say as much as I can. “Depression.”

“Oh.” Concern clouds her eyes. “Well then, we’ll make sure we laugh a lot when we’re together. Deal?”

I smile again. “Deal. You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think your hostess, Rosa, makes a good match. She’s a wise woman.”

“Rosa? Oh, don’t get me started on Rosa.”

“What’s wrong with Rosa?”

“She’s the one who matched me up with the good doctor.”

“Like I said, she’s a wise woman.”

Ellyn holds one hand out flat and then waggles it up and down. “She’s running about fifty-fifty right now. I suspect she was right on with us, but with him?” She gestures toward the dining room. “She’s way off.”

“Time will tell.” I don’t give her a chance to disagree. “So, are you going to give me a cup of coffee or am I going to have to walk over to Moody’s?”

Ellyn reaches for two clean cups. “Coffee or latte?”

“Plain ol’ black coffee, sister. And I think I’ll help myself to a cookie too. They come highly recommended.” I pick up the plate of cookies. “Want one?”

“Well, duh! I wasn’t about to eat one in front of him.”

We both laugh again.

By the time I leave Ellyn’s the sun has already set and the wind has stilled. The cool, damp air refreshes me almost as much as our conversation and laughter did. I feel lighter as I walk to my car—as though, without asking, Ellyn lifted some of the burden I’ve opted to carry alone.

I get in the car and see my cell phone sitting on the passenger seat. I pick it up and look at the screen—no messages. Using my index finger, I key in a number and listen as the phone on the other end rings.

“Sabina?”

I hear home in Antwone’s voice and all the comfort it should bring.

“Hi, baby. I thought it was time I checked in.”