57The dining room table was beautifully set. I struggled to focus on Marina’s delicious feast.
The succulent cabbage was steamed to near whiteness with only a hint of green. But I couldn’t name the spices in the beef-and-rice filling.
My hormones had muddied my brain.
I hired Pat for his analytical and investigative talent. I resolved to be a total pro. Resist any physical attraction that remained.
Mother Nature laughed in my face.
I was a hopeless mass of vibrating nerve endings. The beer made the flavors resonate on my palate.
The powerful tastes blurred with the lilting music of Marina’s voice.
I picked up scattered words. She was telling Pat about growing up in Poland.
Mentioned the big change when she was in fifth grade. No more Russian language lessons. Suddenly she was learn
