John thought of last Friday when he had met Ming in the produce aisle, and she had come over for dinner with her pineapple. They had watched The World Is Not Enough together. She was coming over again this afternoon to meet with him and Livia, who had arranged the meeting.
The doorbell rang, the door opened, and Livia called in, “It’s me, John.”
“Come on in,” he said, relieved to exit the documents on his screen and close his laptop.
“Tea?” he asked, as he walked into the living room. He was still wary of assuming he could hug or kiss Livia, so he stopped in front of her. She kissed him the Italian way–meaning just the air–and as her cheeks touched his, he breathed in the almond scent of her hair.
They went into the kitchen, and John put the kettle on. He grabbed several tins of tea, a
