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"There's no rushing chai. It needs how much time it needs."
"Then fuck the chai."
She laughs. "No, I promised. Here." She strains the pot she's using then she takes me through the process. A cup of water, four tablespoons of leaves, extra spices, a pinch of each, plus a piece of star anise.
It really is shaped like a star.
I'd never seen it before. Never used it before. Apparently, it's common in Vietnamese cooking. It's only used in some chai blends, but Imogen loves the licorice flavor.
Once the tea is boiling, she sets a timer and rests against the counter. "Six minutes. Then we add the milk, let it warm, strain."
"I can make things happen in six minutes."
"Can you?" She smiles.
"You doubt me?"
"No. You just seem to enjoy… taking your time."
"And you enjoy the teasing."
"I do." Her cheeks flush. "But I, uh, I was going to ask about something. Uh… you're really distracting."
"Thanks."
"Right. The books. Are those yours?" She motions to the shelf in the corner. "I just… I've never met a guy who's readThe Bell Jar. OrThe Handmaid's Tale, actually. Which is crazy because I almost majored in English."
"You did?" I ask.
"Yeah. My sophomore year, I was considering it. Partly because my parents would hate it. Partly because I love to read and write."
"What happened?"
"I loved some of the books and I loved thinking about them, but I didn't really like doing it in the context of school. Now my economics class? I loved it. It was a whole other way to understand the world. And it was so much more concrete than literature."
"You don't seem like someone who needs concrete," I say.
"Not exactly. But I do need structure."
"A summer fling that ends when the school year starts?"
"Basically."
"So I make you come every Sunday night?"
"I wouldn't say no to that, but before I give in to my lust…"
"They're my sister's." This is it. A chance to share. To open myself to intimacy, to offer her understanding.
I can take it.
But I don't.
"She was an English major. My older sister was philosophy."
"What does she do now?"
Here it is again.Deidre was a copywriter. Until she died."She got a job as a copywriter after school."
