And you lay them out with the cheese on top of the tomato,” he continued, so she knew to pay attention. “Drizzle this olive oil over them.” He set a container on the counter.
“Drizzle is like rain, but only a little.”
“You got it. Then you’re going to take this.” He walked over to the windowsill, where some pots sat, and broke off a stem with leaves. “It’s basil.”
“I remember. It adds flavor.”
“Yeah. Chop it up some, sprinkle it over everything, grind a little pepper on there, too, and that’s a wrap.”
“It’s a wrap.”
“It’s finished,” he explained.
“I will wrap it for you.”
Pleased, she braided her waist-length black hair back and away. She got to work while he put a pot of water on the stove, poured her wine, drank his beer.
She liked the quiet times with him, and had learned to sa
