There's a street fair on First Avenue. No cars, throngs of people, and vendors selling everything from reading glasses to phone accessories to flowers. I run over to Agata to pick up dinner. No makeup. Stay-at-home clothes. Hair a mess.
I'm almost at my apartment when a pretty woman approaches me. "I just knew that one day I would bump into you. I just knew it." She has a commanding presence and speaks with absolute confidence. I have no idea who she is but she seems certain of who I am. My mind quickly goes to past schools, past jobs, and parents of Alexander's friends. I come up with nothing.
Then she says, "You used to babysit for me and my sister in Brockton." She identifies herself as Kim R, now Kim A. It's probably been about 50 years since I last saw her. Then, she was an adorable 6-year old, so it'd be easy to not recognize the stunning woman she's become.
The first thing Kim says is, "You did something as our babysitter that I'll never forget. You used to sit us down and stand in front of us. Then you'd tell us stories, but you'd act out all the roles, and pretend to speak in all these different foreign languages." I have no recollection of this. Kim then tells me she now speaks several languages, and I of course speak only English. She is clearly the one with the aptitude.
She asks if I have some time; I do. She walks me home to refrigerate the fish I just bought. We go for a short walk, ending back at her house. On the way, we ask a stranger to take a photo.
Kim lives exactly one block from where I do, and has for over 20 years. I wonder how many times I've seen her and didn't know I knew her?
I meet her daughter, and we share stories of growing up in Brockton. Our parents were good friends too. It's a nice reunion, and the beginning of a new friendship.
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