to make a phone call.”
I walked a little way down the path and called the events number for the science museum where Elise had worked on an exhibit two years earlier. A friend of hers had once mentioned the small Saturday dinner service in the rooftop greenhouse café. I remembered the space because Elise had taken me there to show me the irrigation system, then spent forty minutes explaining why something functional ought to be beautiful too.
I had listened.
Now I hoped listening might prove useful.
The first
