How are you, I asked Dana.
"It's a slanting period between 'then' and 'now'", she answered. "Reality is not easy for me and this is a real shot in the arm of reality."
A real shot in the arm. That was something Florence always used to say. I don't hear it very often anymore. It seems we use less and less words every day, leaving our sentences less and less beautiful.
Dana looks at me like I'm a beautiful sentence. She always has. It's why I used to run down Grand Street shouting her name when I saw her and why I sang Beatle love songs under my breath as we waited on Broome Street for her and George.
"I'm looking at you as if I just met my past and my future and they hugged," she says.
If ever a way to reconcile the past with dreams still yearned for that would be it.
I tell her about the pre-elopement honeymoon the Mariner and I just took.
"It's nice you had a honeymoon. To hell with marriage," she exclaims. "He has to give a little! Take a little! Have his heart breaaaaak a little...."
David and I join in. "That's the storeeee.... that's the gloreeee.... of LUUUUUUVVVVVVV!"
Then she digs into her favorite soup. Mushroom barley from Veselkas.
**
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