We are scheduled to meet at 85th and Second. I am early and in need of coffee. The shop next to Budapest where we ultimately go because of its Hungarian bona fides [I wonder which of us needed a connection to our Hungarian roots]; Caroline’s, next door to Budapest has doughnut bona fides, which I don’t try, and very excellent coffee. I sit there to wait. M appears all bustle and hustle but like a calming wind, always gentle.
We take ourselves, my coffee in hand, to sit amidst the beautiful strudel and pastry. We talk. We go to the counter, I ostensibly in search of savory. Spinach strudel feels like a choice from a Greek menu; I am an internationalist. We order a slice of cherry strudel obliquely in honor of my mother. We vow to share but I know I had the lion’s share.
It was a genuinely and deeply lovely lunch, healing, its rhythm that of time spent with a soul mate.
Walk with Me, Too 