There is this time at the
Chinese restaurant near
Jimi Hendrix’s grave that Kate and I are sharing a bowl of
chop suey.
She told me to save her the
bean sprouts. Now have you ever heard a request like that? I never had, but I had no objection.
I said, “
I will save you all my bean sprouts, baby, that’s
proof of my being in love.”
She said she loved me.
I said, “I know, Princess Leia”
And she laughed.
Oh that is Kate in all her glory. Smiles aplenty and cheeks all red; eyes squinted up like staring straight into the sun.
I said, “Kate,
one day you are going to realize how beautiful you really are and you are going to leave me for
someone much better looking, someone with more money, or a guitar.”
“No. Well maybe,” and she giggles. “
But no one will have loved me more.”
It was winter in
Seattle and here we were in
K-Mart buying wool socks.
Wool socks because the apartment had
wood floors and our toes turned
pink and blue around the edges after spending the whole day barefoot.
I said, “Kate, you know these are going to make our feet itch.”
We were standing in the check out line and I grabbed her hand. A little boy two carts back said, “Mommy, look,” and mommy said, “Love.”