We spent all weekend together. Sunday evening I drove her home. She ran up the front steps and waved goodbye.
Suddenly her waves changed direction and she started calling me to her.
I entered her house. A year ago, I couldn’t even imagine something like this, and now it was taken for granted. I “fused” with her so much in those two days. I felt myself a part of her and her of me to such an extent that I just didn’t understand how I could have lived without Jenn until now. I didn’t even live until now. I just dangled on this earth without any direction or meaning.
We drank coffee. She was telling me stories of the theatrical posters and paintings dealing with Jewish subject matter hanging on the walls. She showed me the beautiful silver and china in the cupboard. I was, honestly, a bit tired of her frequent apologies for the “small mess” in the house, which you could more accurately call a big avalanche.
Michael was not at home; he was in some club. It is going to be such a surprise for him when he sees me in their home, drinking tea or cognac with his mother.