walk, setting a brisk, brisk pace.
“Look out,” Brent said as we bustled past the wig shop, “this woman’s hungry!”
The restaurant was long and narrow and packed, but we found a table in the rear. As we walked toward it, I saw one of the E. R. docs from Duke sitting against the far wall, and she waved. I waved back. Seeing her there gave me courage, as if it had not been a stupid idea to come to this part of Durham for dinner after all. I began to notice the other patrons. Some dressed up; most dressed down. White, black, brown. Probably some native Brazilians, happy to enjoy a meal that reminded them of home.
Rebecca and I took the far side of the table and sat down, facing the front of the room. By the time Brent and Adam sat down across from us, I was starting to relax. I liked this place, I decided. I liked the lively atmosphere. The laughter. The spicy smells.
The menus were handwritten in Portuguese and filled with bad photographs of the entrées. Sitting across from each other, Adam and Rebecca leaned over their menus, trying to pronounce the names of the dishes. The table was so small that their heads nearly touched. Their hair was the exact same shade of brown, I noticed, and very nearly the same length, Adam’s too long and my sister’s too short.
“I want this one.” Rebecca pointed to one of the pictures. “It’s the most bizarre-looking thing on the menu.” From where I sat, the entrée looked like a pile of pink flesh covered with some sort of leafy green vegetable.
“I’m going to pass on that,” Adam said with a laugh, and I was glad he hadn’t fallen completely under Rebecca’s spell. When he told me he was joining DIDA, I knew he’d finally succumbed to her persuasion. I’d always been glad that she and Adam got along so well, but I wished she’d left him alone about DIDA. I loved my sister, but she could be a steamroller.
We ordered beers while we continued to study the menu, and Adam held up his bottle in a toast to Brent.
“Drink up!” he said. “This’ll probably be your last cold brew for a while.”
Brent groaned, but he was grinning. “It’s going to be so bloody hot down there,” he said.
“Next trip is yours, bro-in-law.” Rebecca tapped her bottle to Adam’s.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” Adam asked.
“Both,” she said.
An African-American woman was walking toward the rear of the restaurant, a little girl in her arms. I suspected she was heading for the restroom, but she was looking straight at me, a broad smile on her face.
“Do you know her?” Rebecca whispered.
She wasn’t the least bit familiar.
“Dr. Ward!” she said, and for a moment, I thought she meant Rebecca, but her eyes were definitely on mine.
“Hi.” I smiled, struggling to place her. Then I noticed the little girl in her arms. “Taniesa!” I said, jumping to my feet. I reached for her, and Taniesa came easily into my arms, as though she’d never connected the pain from her surgery the year before with me. She clutched a small stuffed panda bear in her hand. “You’re getting huge, baby girl.” I planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I seed you and Mama said no, that isn’t you, but it is too,” Taniesa said.
“And you were right. How are you, honey? How’s that arm of yours?”
“Good,” she said, and she lowered her head to my shoulder as if she wanted to go home with me. I could picture the X-ray of Taniesa’s left arm, shattered in a tricycle accident, as clearly as if I’d seen it only minutes before. I’d never had a photographic memory when it came to reading, but show me a juicy X-ray or CAT scan or MRI image, and I’d never forget it.
“You mean the world to us, Dr. Ward,” Taniesa’s mother said. I couldn’t remember her name. Taniesa’s last name was Flanders, but I knew her mother’s surname was different.
“I’m so glad we could fix her up,” I said, reluctantly letting go of the little girl and handing her back to her mother. Taniesa had on a sweater against the air-conditioned chill of the restaurant, but I ran my fingers down her arm, picturing the scar beneath the fabric.
Rebecca gave the girl’s mother a little wave. “I’m Dr. Ward’s sister, Rebecca,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “Sorry. This is Brent Greer and my husband Adam Pollard, and this is—”
“Lucy Sharp.” Taniesa’s mom saved me the embarrassment.
“I like that panda, Taniesa,” Adam said. “Is it a girl or a boy?”
Taniesa looked at the stuffed toy as if she was just noticing it. “Girl,” she said.
“She have a name?” Adam asked.
“Taniesa.”
We all laughed, and Taniesa grinned.
“That was so smart!” Adam’s eyes were wide with feigned wonder. “You’ll never forget her name, will you?”
God, it was strange watching Adam with other people! I’d forgotten what he was like. How playful he could be. How he used to be playful with me. Our lives had become far too consumed by fertility and pregnancy and worry. We needed to change that, yet I knew he wasn’t ready to give up. I knew he wanted a child more than he wanted the sun to rise in the sky.
“Isn’t this some place?” Lucy Sharp asked. She glanced down at our plateless table. “You haven’t tried anything yet?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“What do you recommend?” Brent asked.
“Oh, Lord, anything you get’s going to fill you up. Try the Churrasco. It’s barbecue, Brazilian style. I never thought I’d like Brazilian food. Who would’ve guessed? But my sister-in-law got me in here a couple weeks ago and now she can’t get me out.”
Our waitress came to the table just then, and Lucy Sharp took a step backward. “I’ll get out of your hair,” she said, “but Taniesa wanted to be sure we said ‘hey.’ ”
“I’m glad you did,” I said. “Bye, Taniesa.”
The little girl reached for me one more time, and her mom leaned over to let her kiss my cheek.
I have the world’s best job, I thought. I watched them walk back to the front of the restaurant, and even before I saw them sit down again, I felt happy and at home and hungry enough to eat alligator meat.
The food was delicious and I was eating coconut flan when I noticed that the crowd was beginning to thin out.
“I’m drunk,” Brent admitted happily. He was. Adam was not far behind him. His eyes were glossy and a little unfocused, and the grin he’d been wearing most of the evening was lopsided in a way that made me smile.
“I’ll drive,” Rebecca said. “Though I’m so stuffed I may not fit behind the wheel.”
Adam said something
