Crossings Ch. 02a

"Morgan, this is Callie," I said. Morgan offered her hand to Callie the same way she offered it to me. Callie shook it decisively.

"This is Mariano," I said. He was now standing next to me. Morgan offered her hand and then her cheek to him, just as she had to me.

"Very nice to meet you both," Morgan said.

"Very nice to meet you, too," Callie said. "Please join us?"

Callie was sitting next to me while Morgan sat next to Mariano, across the table from me.

"You look ... different," Morgan said. "Different but good."

"It's been a very interesting year," I said. "Wonderful and horrible, sometimes at the same time, lots of unexpected twists."

"I want you to tell me all about it," Morgan said, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smile.

"We're off to Mexico in the morning," I said. "Mariano has some unfinished business there. Callie and I will help."

A waitress arrived with our food. Mariano had ordered a small bowl of a dozen roasted grasshoppers on guacamole.

"I hope you don't mind that we ordered for you ... really just extra of what we ordered for ourselves ... this seems to be one of the only places in the U.S. where you can get this kind of barbecue, but we also got beans and rice and some other things."

"I don't eat a lot of meat," Morgan said, smiling, "but I'll make an exception for this ... I'm completely intrigued. Is this the pulque you mentioned?" she asked, glancing to my glass.

"They serve it with other flavors, mostly fruit. This one is passion fruit. Mariano's is unflavored."

"May I?" Morgan asked me. "I love passion fruit."

I knew she was still a few months shy of 21, but a sip wouldn't hurt. I slid my glass toward her. She lifted it, her pinky held away, delicately sipped.

Her face gave away absolutely nothing. Mariano took another drink of his, fortunately minus any further extreme reactions.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes on mine. "I'm not sure I'll make a habit of it. It's nice but ... different."

"I feel the same way," Callie said. "I think I'd like a margarita," she said to the waitress, who nodded, still setting out our plates. Morgan didn't look away from me.

"Agua fresca for you?" I asked her, and she nodded slowly. She was almost impossibly beautiful ... it was difficult to look away, my eyes lost in the intense sky blue of hers.

"Strawberry," she told the waitress without breaking my gaze.

Our plates filled the table. When Morgan finally looked away I found I could do the same, and the food looked incredible.

"It smells amazing," Callie said, covering my hand with hers.

Corn tortillas in warmers, platters with lamb, pork, grilled quail, beans & rice, lettuce, cilantro, tomato, chilis, cotija, corn truffle, halved limes, lamb broth, tortilla soup, there was no way we would be able to eat all of this, and goddess, yes, it smelled incredible.

Morgan dipped her fork into the lamb, tasting a little, and spluttered, laughing out loud. "My Ga ... this is like the best thing I've ever tasted!"

Mariano was effusive when the waitress returned, the two of them trading rapid-fire Spanish, the rest of us just enjoying yet another of the best meals of my life. I asked Mariano for some of his grasshopper guacamole.

"Chapulines," he said, smiling, and spooned some onto my plate. I took a deep breath, in, out, in, and had a bite. It reminded me of shrimp, but a little smoky.

"More please," I said, and Mariano chuckled. Callie had a taste of the guacamole but couldn't bring herself to taste an actual grasshopper, while Morgan just silently shook her head, her eyes on mine, her smile incredible.

I ordered a second pulque, this time unflavored like Mariano's. I was liking it better and better, it seemed to enhance and complement the flavors of this amazing meal. It occurred to me for the first time that Mariano was not of legal drinking age, but no one was making a fuss about it, and aside from his unexpected initial reaction, I was glad he could have it ... it really did seem to be what he needed.

Any awkwardness from our meeting evaporated as we ate and talked, possibly abetted by pulque and margaritas. Morgan was animated, very bright, deeply charming, charismatic, witty, and very easy to talk with in addition to being one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. That initial coolness in her voice and demeanor was long gone, though a couple times I did catch her looking at me in a way that seemed distinctly appraising. Even Callie seemed to be warming to her, though they remained wary of each other. Morgan was on summer break before her junior year at Swarthmore where she was double-majoring in ancient and art history, subjects she seemed fascinated by, though she mentioned she was thinking of taking a semester off to focus on some of her own projects ... she'd designed all the clothes she was wearing and worked with a tailor to make them, and that tailor wanted to partner with her more, possibly starting a designer business together.

"They look fantastic on you," I blurted, thinking she'd probably heard that many times before, but she blushed and stuttered, which seemed to surprise her even more than it did me, those few moments of vulnerability from her seeming to open a new channel of emotion within me, one that was going to be difficult to put away: I became conscious of how incredibly sexy she was. I felt Callie's thigh move against mine; she felt it too, in me if not also in herself.

I found it odd that I couldn't sense anything going on within Morgan, unlike Mariano who was an open book, and of course all the women and men of Newberry except Sati and Ingrid. And that raised an echo of a thought in me: Morgan somehow reminded me of Sati, not just because both of them were so inescapably gorgeous.

The restaurant was emptying - they would close at 9:00 PM and it was close to that now. The owner came out to talk, an extremely nice, deeply humble man who spoke good English but bantered with Mariano in Spanish far more quickly than I could've followed. Like Mariano, he came from Hidalgo, so they had a lot to talk about, and he was interested to know we were on our way there right now.

"You are very fortunate," he said to Mariano and to me, "I do not recall ever seeing two such beautiful women in my restaurant before. I hope you will return."

"I think this was the most delicious meal I've ever had," Morgan said.

I looked at Callie, brought my fingers to my lips and she did the same, then we both looked at the owner, kissed our fingertips, opening them as they moved toward him.

"You are very kind," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Tell your friends!"

Our waitress was boxing up our leftovers.

"Can I interest you in dessert?" he asked.

"I made dessert at home," Morgan said, looking at me. "Chocolate truffles, my own special recipe. I hope you'll join me."

"The chocolate will be spicy, I hope," the owner said.

Morgan smiled.

"With our compliments, flan to go with your lovely companion's chocolate," he said, and handed me an open pastry box with what looked like the best flan I would ever taste inside, drizzled in a caramel syrup. I turned it so everyone else could see.

"Thank you so much," I said. "You are very kind."

"Muchísimas gracias," Mariano said.

We had three bags of leftovers to carry home, including the flan.

"You'll have dessert with us and stay the night, I sincerely hope," Morgan said as we walked outside. "I want you to meet my parents and brothers."

I shared a look at Callie. She nodded. It wasn't too late to make other plans, but we hadn't, and our extended dinner with Morgan had been delightful.

"We can start with dessert and see how things go," I said to Morgan.

She smiled, more broadly than I'd seen from her yet. She'd actually seemed a little nervous and now seemed immensely relieved as well as anxious for more. "Will you drive with me?" she asked. "I spent more time talking than I'm used to in the restaurant. I'd like to catch up with you, too."

Callie made a sort of 'what next?' motion with her head, her eyes subtly rolling, but didn't say no.

"I'd like that," I said.

"Follow me," she told Callie. "We're 15 miles away, in Beverly Hills."