Affogato!

Margie wavered today. Should we go get coffee or ice cream? She wasn’t sure. But then she opted for ice cream. It was my turn to treat, so I left her in the park for a few minutes and brought back two affogatos. 

“Ice cream and coffee both? I can have both? I never heard of such a thing!” she whispered with wonder. And then, after her first taste, “It’s like putting heaven in my mouth. It’s my favorite ever!” 

About fifty yards from us, a houseless man took off his shirt and started washing himself. “I wish he had a bathroom of his own,” Margie observed gently, “but I guess it’s good it’s warm enough he can bathe in cold water and not die from it. Why are so many people living on the street?”

I explained again about high rents, and she was horrified as always. “How much for a studio apartment? Nearly $2000 a month? No!” She was sure I was exaggerating. "Nobody on earth would pay $2000 a month in rent. You might as well throw that money in the trash.” 

Soon a woman and a couple of children came to play in the fountain. That reminded Margie of her own children, now in their late 60s and early 70s, but young children forever in her heart. 

“I think my children might be grown now. Where did my children grow up?” she asked, squeezing her eyes to see if she could remember. 

“San Francisco,” I reminded her. 

“Oh, that’s very good. Near the ocean. A beautiful city. I must have had a job there?”

“Yes,” I told her, “you were a social worker.”

“An excellent profession. I approve,” she declared. “And I approve of this what-do-you-call-it. Like heaven in my mouth.”