Samson's Lovely Mortal Page 21
“Have you had dim sum before?” he asked.
“Sure. I have it all the time in New York. But I think our Chinatown is not quite as large as yours.” She figured she should make small talk with him.
“I read somewhere that San Francisco’s Chinatown is the largest in the US. Not sure if it’s true, but it might be.” John seemed surprisingly chatty. “Lots of shops here, and if you go a few blocks up toward Stockton, there are actually some quite decent food shops. Down here it’s mostly knick knacks and souvenirs. Tons of tourists.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I’ve been through here at midday before, and the sidewalks were so packed you couldn’t even get through.” She looked down Grant Street, the main drag in Chinatown. The place was teeming with tourists and merchants.
“It’ll get even more packed this weekend. It’s the Chinese New Year, and there’ll be a parade on Saturday night. You might want to watch it. I normally go with the kids. They love it. There’ll be a dragon and all kinds of fun stuff.”
“Maybe I’ll check it out.”
She followed John into the tacky-looking Chinese restaurant. It was busy with mostly Chinese customers, which was always a good sign. The hostess led them to a table. The red tablecloth was covered with a glass plate which she wiped down quickly.
“To drink?” She was curt almost to the point of being unfriendly.
“Tea,” both of them said in unison.
“I bet you can’t wait to get back home and sleep in your own bed,” John mused.
Delilah smiled. “Absolutely.” Not. After meeting Samson, she wished she could extend her stay to see where things would lead. But it wasn’t in the cards.
“Must be tough to constantly have to travel for your job.”
Delilah nodded absentmindedly. She had never thought it tough. Actually, it was a blessing to be gone so much. At least she wouldn’t have to admit how lonely she really was in her little apartment in New York. When she was on the road and staying it hotels, she could pretend to others what an interesting life she had. Nobody would get to know her well enough to see through her and find out just how little she had to go back to.
She had no brothers or sisters, well, not anymore anyway. Her mother had had trouble conceiving, and Delilah had begged to have a little brother or sister for years when she was a child. When her mother had suddenly gotten pregnant again at the age of almost thirty-five, the entire family had been ecstatic. A little over a year later their world had collapsed, and her baby brother was gone. Her mother was never the same after that.
Her father was almost ten years older than her mother and was now in a home for Alzheimer’s patients. He didn’t recognize her any longer, and while she took care of him financially, she’d stopped seeing him. She was just a stranger to him, and it hurt her every time she saw him.
Her mother had died two years earlier. It was a blessing that her father didn’t know. Alzheimer’s had already claimed too much of his conscious self for him to know that his beloved wife of over forty years had died of cancer. The doctors kept her up to date on his condition on a regular basis, but there was nothing else she could do. He seemed comfortable, and the home she had chosen for him was one of the best. No member of her once-happy family was left.
“Delilah, did you want some of these?” John pulled her out of her depressing memories.
The waitress showed them a platter with little dumplings.
“Oh, sure.”
She dipped a dumpling into the soy sauce and devoured it. “This is delicious. Do you come here often?”
“At least once or twice a week. It’s pretty convenient for the office. My wife hates Chinese food, so I normally get my fix during the week,” he admitted and laughed. “Oh, which reminds me: my wife wanted to know what time I’m going to be home for dinner tonight. She was going to cook her special dish.”
Delilah caught John’s oddly curious look.
“Well, I was planning to leave the office at five o’clock tonight.”
She could probably get some clothes shopping done in less than half an hour, then …
“Five o’clock. So early? Any plans?” His question was so casual, she almost didn’t hear it.
… then take a shower, shave her legs, do her toenails …
“Actually I’m going to the theater.” Maybe pink for the toenails? Was red too aggressive?
“That sounds like fun. What are you going to see?”
She loved the stage and always got excited when she knew she’d see a play. But this time the reason for her excitement had a different name.