The Color of Home: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

entailed. He had no idea how much thought and work went into preparing food. He had no idea. Period. She was accomplished. And had fractal blue eyes. And had embraced his past. But what about her loves? What was her love story?
    Over coffee and tea, he asked, “So how about you? How many people have you loved in your life?”
    “I’ve loved no one.”
    “Not even your parents?”
    “I loved them, I guess. I don’t think about them.”
    “Why not?”
    She lifted the prongs from the table’s sugar bowl and slowly dropped three cubes of sugar into her tea, one at a time. Instead of stirring, she rocked the teacup back and forth until the cubes dissolved, then she took a slow sip. After the cup had securely returned to the table, she said, “They died, along with my sister, in a car accident right after I turned thirteen.”
    “Were you with them in the car?”
    “Only survivor.”
    “I’m so sorry, Sassa.”
    “Thank you. I’m okay. It was a long time ago.”
    “Who raised you?”
    “My aunt and uncle. They were genuinely kind, but you can’t replace parents.”
    “How true.” He reached out, gathered her hands, and didn’t take the conversation further that night. He hated when people pushed him about his loss and had no intention of doing the same to her. They finished their dinner on lighter topics, then he walked her home.
• • •
    Late the next evening, Nick waited for Sassa at a Village diner. He’d grabbed a booth and ordered coffee, tea, and a piece of German chocolate cake. Her favorite. As he sipped his coffee, he spun his fork around as if it were a bottle. She hadn’t loved anyone? How did she go all these years and not love a man? What exactly had happened to her parents and her sister in the accident? Where should he take the conversation when she arrived? Back to her story, to loss, to the accident, to past boyfriends? Or to Romeo and Juliet ? With many of his former girlfriends, he’d directed a conversation about Romeo and Juliet , almost as a test, as a way to understand what they believed about love, about honesty. Maybe the time had come to do the same with Sassa? Maybe not.
    After she arrived and over the delicious shared piece of German chocolate cake, he jumped right in and asked, “What do you think of Romeo and Juliet ?”
    “Have you used that line before?”
    “Kind of.”
    “Maybe you could try something a little more unique?”
    “I’m sorry. The words are unique but informed by the past.”
    “That sounds like another line.”
    “I may have to stop.”
    “Your choice. Don’t stop for me.”
    He stirred his coffee with his cake fork. Maybe he should stop. He had used the line before and had always been disappointed with the resulting R&J conversation. Past girlfriends didn’t have a strong enough view of love. Or honesty. Or how to evolve a relationship. But Sassa was different, and he had to know where she would take R&J, had to know if it would help open her. He cut off a piece of cake and popped it in his mouth. Chocolate and coconut—what a combination. “Okay. One last time. The ending wouldn’t have been tragic if either of them had practiced a little more honesty.”
    Her eyes narrowed and she touched the base of her neck. “Didn’t we talk about this with Persona ? I hope you’re not a one-trick pony.” She sat up a little straighter, pulled a quarter out of her purse, and slid it across the table. The quarter hung over the edge. “Touchdown. 1–0.” Leaning in, she waited for the return shot.
    On the return trip, the quarter flew off the end of the table into her hand. He’d played quarter-football as a boy, with his friends, with his dad. In absence, he’d lost his touch in the last decade. Did she somehow know the game had been one of his favorites?
    “Better go back to stuff you’re good at,” she said.
    “Right. . . . So they loved each other for sure, but they folded each time.”
    “Stuff gets in the way.”
    “If they had