Little Nook

Continued from yesterday...

..Leaving the grocery, my sandals scuff along the uneven wooden planks, wrapped meat in hand with a cool bottle of raspberry sweet tea balanced in my palm, eyes fixed on the car in front of me but I stop and turn to my left, a magnetism pulling me in that direction and follow a path around the side of the store, past a paint chipped bench and the smell of early afternoon and contemplation. My fathers words come muffled as he inquires where I am going but follows anyway. And there, in a small clearing is a table and three stools, as if they were placed their for us. I turned to look behind my shoulder knowing my father is already smiling and approach the table. We lay out brown paper napkins and plastic silverware, my father tearing carefully into the deli paper, exposing the tissue thin sliced meat and I pull the lids off the containers of grilled vegetables and mozzarella, dipping my head down to inhale the salt and citrus aroma wafting into my nostrils on the same warm breeze that massages my shoulders. We look at each other, my father, mother and I, between small, savory bites, wordless and calm with the sound of wind through leaves…and I wonder if it is the food we chew so slowly we don’t want it to end or if it is this moment we are trying not to let slip through our fingers.