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“Why did the Americans withdraw?”
“The man who was president at the time thought global warming was a hoax.”
“Who would believe such a thing?”
“It’s a rather common affliction among Americans of the far right. But let’s talk about something pleasant, shall we?”
It was Raphael who chose the subject. “What doeswokemean?”
Gabriel directed his gaze toward his son and, to the best of his ability, answered. “It’s a word that emerged from the Black community in the United States. If someone is woke, it means they care about issues involving racial intolerance and societal injustice.”
“Are you woke?”
“Evidently.”
“I think I’m woke, too.”
“I’d keep it to myself, if I were you.”
At the conclusion of the meal, the children volunteered to clearaway the plates and serving dishes, a feat they accomplished with minimal conflict and no breakage. Chiara poured the last of the wine into their glasses and held hers to the light of the candles.
“Where shall we begin?” she asked. “Your meeting with Julian or the new tattoo on your right hand?”
“It’s not a tattoo.”
“That’s a relief. What is it?”
Gabriel removed his hand from his lap and laid it carefully on the tablecloth.
Chiara winced. “It looks dreadful.”
“Yes,” said Gabriel gloomily. “But you should see the other guy.”
