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I want to tease her and say, is she telling me that she would rather have sex outside, but I also don’t want to creep her out and make her say no to spending more with me. So, I just nod. I’m still so aware that beneath that short dress is her nakedness. But I force myself to look up and watch her body move as my pet leads the way outside.
We walk without a direction in mind. But I realize, after a few minutes and because of how much walking I did with Myah, that we are heading to Central Park. I’m not aware if we should visit this place late at night. Still, the masked woman carries on. She shivers when the first few rain drops fall on us, and I hastily get out of my coat so that I can place it on her shoulders. She looks back at me, her eyes a little bit shocked.
“Thanks,” my pet mutters.
“Weather here in New York is always extreme, right,” I state to start a conversation.
“We get used to it,” she replies, shivering less now that she is covered with my warm jacket. I wish I could wrap my hands around her to make her feel my warmth instead. But I try to hold myself back because this is a different type of intimacy.
“Is that so,” I start, “so what brings you to New York? I take it that it’s not really this enjoyable weather,” I tease lightly.
The masked woman remains silent. So, no topics about the past yet. Her life is as secretive as her masked face. I totally understand that, but the inquisitive part of me is yearning to know more. However, I realize that I’m still just a stranger, and she’s not ready to tell me personal things.
Baby steps, I find myself thinking. Calvin always reminds me about that and also about being more patient.
“You know what? There is this one important thing that I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
She stops walking and turns to me. I smile warmly.
“What is your favorite ice cream flavor?” I keep my face as straight as possible, but when the corner of her lips turn up, mine follow.
She laughs. “That is your serious question?”
“Well. It is important to know that. What if we go out together, and I order the wrong flavor? You may suddenly regret being with me.”
The masked woman starts giggling and starts walking again. “Does that pick-up line ever work for you?”
“Well. I’ve never really used that before. I just recently learned that from someone special. Apparently, it is important to ask a person what they like first, and not decide for yourself.”
I smile at the thought of my daughter influencing me, and I can’t deny it. I have been more talkative these past few days because I’ve had to keep up with Myah’s love for conversation. Lately, I must admit that I have enjoyed connecting with other people with words.
“Vanilla,” she replies, pulling me out of my thoughts. “And you?”
“Vanilla — such a subtle but aromatic flavor. Well, I don’t really like ice cream.”
My statement makes her stop again. And I find it weird yet funny that Myah had the same reaction when I told her I don’t like ice cream.
“What kind of person doesn’t like an ice cream?” my pet asks with disbelief. I’m about to explain myself when she adds, “sorry for that. It’s just I have never met someone who doesn’t like ice cream, and I have met a lot of people. What do you usually get for dessert if you don't like it? Or eat during hot summers?”
“I like dark chocolates. I love the sometimes tangy and strong flavors of it. For summer, I find cold water enough to cool me down.”
She hums to herself. “You’re clearly an unusual man. And here I thought, my father was the strangest man I’d ever met.”
I’m not sure how to feel about that statement. “Is your father strange in a good or bad way?”
“Definitely bad. I don’t want to talk about him. But the only thing you should know is that I feel like he regrets having me but has no choice but to keep me.”
That is not a great topic to venture to now, I begin thinking. So, I steer us back to food. “How about coffee? What are your thoughts about it?”
“Bitter, but exciting? I love coffee. I think it’s one of God’s greatest gifts to people. That and ice cream, of course,” she adds jokingly.
A sudden thought comes into my mind. I want to see if her cheeks match the blush on her lips. But I don’t know how to ask my masked pet about it without making her feel attacked.
“Coffee, huh? What about tea?”
“Tea. Hmmm. Sometimes, I like it. But I just find it weird how a simple tea bag can hide so many flavors in it. And sometimes, I’m scared that some of the leaves or whatever is inside the bag can hurt me. You know, maybe they’re poisonous?”
