definitely just sit here all day and night with my face buried in her bosom. Do people still use the word bosom? Probably not.
She giggles when I bite at her. “Is that a yes?”
I nod, rubbing my face in her chest.
After humoring me for a few minutes, she drags me off the floor, and I finish washing the dishes while she makes the cookie dough that I earned for eating the cabbage. If Nora promised to feed me my vegetables each day, I would become a herbivore in no time. We could eat kale smoothies and grainy cereal things all day if she made them.
When I finish drying the dishes, I join her at the counter and watch her roll the dough into balls. White chips are in them and something that looks like a berry.
“What kind of cookies are those?”
“White-chocolate raspberry.”
While the cookies bake, my small apartment fills with that familiar sweet smell, and I decide that Nora should come over every day. I would be very, very happy with that.
Where does she live now? I had nearly forgotten that she came to my house with her hands full of her belongings.
“Are you back in your apartment?” I ask when she sits up on the counter and I stand between her legs.
“No.”
And that’s it. Just a “No.”
“Where are you staying? Do you need to stay here?”
“No.” She smiles this time, and I brush my nose over hers. “My sister is coming tomorrow, and she’s going to let me stay in her condo across the bridge.”
“In Manhattan? That’s far from your work.”
“It’s not too far.”
“You can stay here.”
She wraps her arms behind my neck and pulls me closer. “No, I can’t.”
“Why?”
But Nora shakes her head.
“So if your sister is coming tomorrow, does that mean I won’t see you?”
She nods.
“I would like to meet her.”
Nora’s back stiffens slightly, and she shakes her head. “Meet my sister? Oh, that’s a horrible idea.” She smiles at me, but I’m not smiling. She’s using that beautiful face as a shield against my intrusions again.
A horrible idea? Why would that be a horrible idea?If we are trying to get to know each other better, why would I not meet her sister? It’s not like I asked her to marry me; I just want to meet some of her family.
“And why is that?” I hope she can’t hear the uncertainty in my voice.
Nora pulls away from me and leans back against the cabinets. “My sister . . . My sister is not someone you just meet—it’s a whole production. We would have to plan this much, much better. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, she and Ameen are not people who just meet people.”
As Nora spoke, her voice became increasingly frantic, so very different from what it was moments ago. What is she so afraid of? Why would it be such a big deal for me to meet her sister?