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“So you believe that?”
“No,” she said. “But it makes me think of good times in life, so how can I not pick it up.”
“That’s a good way to look at it,” I said.
I reached for the penny and the woman swatted my hand away.
“I have to do it,” she said. “If you pick it up, then it’s yours.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
She smiled at me. “You could fetch me my broken sunglasses and then throw them out. Pieces of shit.”
I laughed. “Whoa.”
“What? Old ladies can’t curse?”
“Caught me off guard.”
“I bet I did. Expensive, designer sunglasses. An overpriced smoothie made for people of your generation. What the hell is a dragon fruit anyway? Back in my day you ate apples and bananas.”
She reached for the penny again.
Her hand shaking furiously.
I placed my hand to hers and guided her thumb and pointer to pick up the penny.
She clutched it. “There we go.”
“Hope it brings you good luck.”
“Like what? A cure for Parkinson’s?”
I swallowed hard.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. You were wondering. Either Parkinson’s or I took some good drugs, right?”
My face burned red hot again.
She laughed. “What a thing to have. Parkinson’s. Especially when you’re a painter.”
“You’re a painter…?”
“Artist, yes,” she said. “I have my own gallery too. Just a couple blocks away. I live above it. My dream. I like to pretend to keep healthy by going on walks. Then I end up shaking so much that I waste half the day of a beautiful woman like yourself.”
“You’re not wasting my day at all. Can I tell you something?”
“Sure. We’re strangers. Let’s share secrets.”
I smiled. “I used to paint.”
“Ah. So I have someone to walk and talk with then?”
“Yes,” I said.
I stood up.
I threw the broken sunglasses out.
