- I can't believe that the one on TV was Jimmy - my mom started - He's so grown up, can you believe it? He didn't even know how to start the washing machine. He's such a nice young man. You remember when...?
And... here we go again, talking about her idolized Jimmy.
He was clearly her favorite among all of my ex's. Even if my father didn't talk about these things, we all knew he was hiss too.
When Jimmy stopped showing up at home my mother asked what had happened. I told her that it was over between us, and that was the end of it. Full stop. Her reaction was memorable. I think we could compare it with the time my older sister told us she was leaving and setting in Stockholm. My mother didn't hit tears, that would have being over the line, but her "Oh, well then..." and her expression were enough.
- Yes, mom, I remember it all 'cause you handle it to talk about him every time you can - I said drily. I snorted and looked from side to side so we could cross the street and reach the greengrocer's -. Also, we're already arriving to the store, that's enough. This is full of gossip widows.
She looked at me indignantly, as if she didn't understand why it bothered me that she talked about how wonderful Jimmy was.
I opened the door for her and let her in. Then I walked in.
- You sure you only want bananas? - she asked -.
- Um... maybe we could buy some kiwis and strawberries to make some juice in the morning - I answered
-.
- Of course. We could buy some apples too and make a pie - she added -. Annie loves them and her nephew is here on vacations. You know that little boy is...
I stopped listening to her. I already knew all about our neighbor's nephew. I was busier selecting kiwis. I always took the ones that were too green and those weren't good for the juice, they had to be a bit ripe.
- If you're making a juice, make sure they're ripe - someone said behind me -.
I startled in surprise and skipped a little scream. I turned around with two kiwis in my hands.
- Sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention - she apologized -. I just wanted to help.
That apron suits her perfectly.
That was the first thing I thought of when I first saw her. The second one was that her mauve veil perfectly complemented her amber apron. And the third one was her smile. Wide and sincere. That kind of smile that made your lips turn up alone, on their own, like a mirror.
- Oh, no, no, please. You don't have to worry - she put her hands in her apron pocket -. I was too immersed with the kiwis. I didn't hear you coming.
- Um... let me help you - she approached me, taking her hands out of her pocket, and reached them out to me -. May I?
While staring at her open hands in front of me I caught a glimpse of her bare arms. Her skin was dark, of the same characteristic color of the Moroccans, so I just supposed she was from there, as it this town we have a whole Arab community.
I gave her the kiwis I had in my hands. My fingertips brushed her palms, tickling and sending shivers up my forearm. I didn't miss the silver ring that she wore on her right ring finger either. Never better said.
- Thank you - she gently squeezed the kiwis and hummed -. These are good, but not for a juice. Let me show you.
Then she took a step forward. I took a step back. As if possible, her smile became wider.
- My excuses. I just... wanted to take the fruit box - she explained, pointing at the container -.
Of course.
- Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not... - I quickly stepped aside, an apology drawn on my face with an embarrassed smile -. Um... personal space.
- Ah... I see - she grab the box and took it out the metal bars -.
It's not like I don't like human contact or his warmth, but I'm not hugging strangers either, you know what I mean?
She ran her hands delicately over the different pieces, measuring them, taking some and weighing them, squeezing them. It took her less than twenty seconds to hand me three kiwis. But in the meantime, I didn't loose my time either and watched her carefully.
She was new in town, never seen her before. I will definitely ask my mother about her later, probably she new something. And surely I won't even have to ask her to start talking about "the new one".
By the way she manipulated the fruit, very carefully and placing them in the same spot afterwards, I would say she was a caring and perfectionist person. I liked that in others; that made them wanting to improve. I continued the exploration and my eyes continued along the length of her arms. I liked its color, it looked so soft to touch.
After her arms came, obviously, her body. In that moment, I swallowed unconsciously. She was wearing jeans and a simple gray short sleeve t-shirt. She was taller than me and slim. I glanced at her profile, but she interrupted my thoughts handing me the kiwis.
She was young. No more than thirty.
- Here - she smiled proudly and turned towards me, fruit on her hands -. Do you take them in that bag? She pointed at the cloth bag that hung from my shoulder.
- Oh, yes - I opened it for her -. It's better this way.
She put the fruit in my bag and, to my surprise, she closed it herself and placed the handle back on my shoulder.
- There.
Her hands returned to her pocket and she looked at me. As the first time, I couldn't stand to not to smile.
- Em..I glanced at my feet, not able to keep eye contact, as I grabbed a lock of hair and tucked it behind
my ear.
I know I should have said something, at least gratitude for her help, but words did not come to me in that moment.
I heard her take a breath, as if she were going to start talking, when among the few voices heard in the store, my mother's stood out, approaching us.
- Oh, no, no! No plastic bag, dear. We have to protect the planet - she stood next to me -. So you're the new. I'm Tessa, but everyone call me Tess. And this is my daughter Amalia.
- Nice to meet you, Amalia - she said looking at me again and pulling a hand out her pinny -. My name is Leylak.
I took her hand and shook it, for a moment feeling her warmth and softness. This time there were no tickles or shivers but the wish to not let go her hand. It was so soft. And I don't know if it was my imagination, but I think she squeezed it a little.
- Nice to meet... - I couldn't finish my sentence because my nervy mother mother interrupted me -.
- Such a formal welcoming - as she shook the woman's hand -. I would love to stay here and get to know you better, Leylak, but, we're in a hurry, it's already noon. Half day wasted and dilly-dallying. We have to make the meal for this evening, my son is coming with his children and wife, you know? And I bought some potatoes and...
As usual, I stopped listening and focused on her listener.
Leylak.
That was a beautiful name. She was beautiful too. I wonder what was she doing here. She was clearly on the prime of her life. The ring came to my mind and I devised her trip. She has married a guy to obtain the nationality. It was pretty normal here, but I was not against it, I don't give a shit about countries or borders.
She shifted her body weight from one leg to the other.
After inventing her story, I focused on her expressions. She was politely listening to my mother, adding comments from time to time, laughing or worrying as my mother's soliloquy required... when she smiled a dimple appeared on her right cheek. That was cute. Her cheeks were without stains, smooth. Her thick lips were dim pink, they had a very pretty shade, and her eyes were dark. Very dark. Though they gleamed.
