and pottery. I stood beside the coffee menu studying it with the concentration of a man hoping instructions might eventually appear.
“Is there going to be an exam?”
I turned.
Sabrina stood behind me in jeans, a white blouse, and a light denim jacket. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders. She looked less like a completely different woman than a fuller version of the one I had met, someone whose day belonged to herself.
For a second, I forgot what I had intended to say.
Her smile
