She runs! And we hug,
I missed yous are dutifully exchanged.
“How was the drive?” It was good, good.
Her dark velvet pleats are a shade deeper than my corduroy, I notice.
“Yours?” Great, good.
I wonder, where the deep circles came from. She wonders where the pink in my cheeks has gone to. I grasp her hand a little tighter. We’re both doing well, we establish. She’s been busy, I’ve been getting on fine. The parents are well.
I break the silence of cheery banter.
“Sorry.” Yeah, she acknowledges. Neither missed the other. Neither wanted to meet.
I open up the black umbrella. She pulls down the black veil. Modern; inevitably chic.