"I'm sure he appreciated her mind too," I said in an aside to Naomi, and I was rewarded by the quick flash of hersmile.
"Yes, she was very clever," Mitch said agreeably, not rising to the bait. "Which is probably why her father didn't want to let her go to a glorified busboy like Louis. He told Louis, how are you going to take care of mydaughter?"
"'I'm going to own a restaurant,' Louis said. And Dee's father, he said, well you do that then, and then you come back to talk to me. Laughing. Because, even though Dee claims she always loved Louis, from the time they met in ninth grade, who was going to wait that long? Who wouldexpectthat?”
Mitch took a sip of his water. “But Louis worked. Like a madman. And Dee used to pretend she was going to the movies or to study or go on a date with another boy, to slip out and help Louis. Choosing to make noodles in the kitchen with the man she loved instead of enjoying a romantic night with someone she was supposed to love. Isn’t that beautiful? Just think. If it weren't for the way a man loves a pretty woman, you wouldn't be eating that shu mairightnow."
I nodded. Mitch never talked about Mom, except in the occasional generality – always asyour mother– and usually in terms of something related to family business: medical histories and alumni-preference and a tendency to sunburn. My maternal grandparents had died young, and so when my mother died, there was no one left on her side to keep her memoryalive.
"You don't usually talk much about Mom,"Isaid.
"There isn't much to talk about," Mitch said lightly. "I loved her, andshe'sgone."
"Everyone loved her," I said, because it was easier than sayingIlovedher.
"I'd like to hear more about her sometime," Naomi said. "I don't remember heratall."
"You met her? She was lovely." Mitch said. He waved at the passing cart. "Do you have any of the Chinese broccoli? Mussels? You always loved the broccolihere,Rob."
"I'm okay," I said, a thread of irritation audible in my voice. I knew I had to fix my tone. To an outsider, like Naomi, my father would simply sound fond, and my annoyance would seem irrational. "I don't needbroccoli."
Mitch said to the server, "Keyi ào yóu ràng wo de háizi yixie xi lánhua? Wo zhidào ta kàn shàngqù dàle, dànshì ta réngrán zàizengzhang."
I sighed, faintly butaudibly.
"Of course, sir," the server said, his English heavilyaccented.
"Shénme sheng nèi ni cóngnalilái?
"CóngFuijan."
"Oh, it's lovely there," Mitch said, switching back to English, smiling at Naomi. "You'll have to forgive me. I can never restrain my curiosity. Immigration keeps our country alive,doesn'tit?"
"I didn't know you spoke Chinese."Naomisaid.
"Only alittle."
"I really am a barbarian," she said to me. "I can barely even use mychopsticks."
"Well, it's all about where you've had the opportunity to go," Mitch said. "Most Americans don't get to travel much. It's wonderful our nation is vast and has so much to offer, it's not like living in Europe where you could day-trip to someplace they speak another language. It's a shame, really, but you shouldn't feelguilty."
It was like Mitch to make Naomi uncomfortable and then put her at ease again. He was just such aniceguy.
"Your mother and I used to walk from here," Mitch said, twisting slightly in his seat, "To the movie theater a few blocks away. Who needs popcorn when you could have dim sum before your matinee? It was ourfavoritedate."
Yeah, that sounded like a great date. I wondered why Mitch was bringing up Mom for a second time, which was two times more often as he usually brought her up withinayear.
"There's a little bookstore where we liked to stop at on the way," Mitch mused on. "Do you still like toread,Rob?"
"A bit," I said. "You'd be surprised how much down time SEALs can end up with attimes."
"So much wisdom in books," Mitch said. "On Boyleston, I don't remember the name. You should gosometime."
"I carry a Kindle," I said. "We try to packlight."
"What about you, Naomi?" Mitch asked. "Are you areader?"
"I like to read,"Naomisaid.
