49.

   Pat and Nanette were as impressed with Claudia’s feast as I was. For the first time on this roller coaster I was completely relaxed. I picked up a steamed clam and studied it. The stratified shell reminded me of tree rings. The envelopes and leaves of meat beckoned me. They were firm yet inviting. A small puff of steam escaped their folds. Life doesn’t get any better than eating great food, I thought. Food is a refuge, whether it be great or mediocre or even paltry. It connects us. It grounds us. It is us. Why do we consider what we would choose for our last meal? Why was there a last supper in the Bible? Why are cooking for a lover and making love so similar in so many ways? Life is a tempest. Food is shelter.
   Claudia gently prodded me out of my reverie. “Is the full moon real enough for you?”, she murmured as she draped an arm over my shoulder.
   I put down my plate and stared into her dark, liquid eyes. A breath of wind lifted her hair. The moonlight shivered over the features of her face. “More real than any moon I’ve ever seen. It seems alive.” What could I say to this beautiful creature, I thought as foolish words bounced around in my head.
   “What does the full moon inspire in your world?”, breathed Claudia. 
   “Romance?”, I blundered like an idiot.
   “Well then, what are you waiting for?”
    Timing is everything as they say.