Angie’s Birthday, Delray Beach, June 24, 2011
[dcs_p]Angie comes up from her beach walk with her sunhat in hand. Her face is flushed from exerting herself in the heat–the humidity is thick this morning– and her T-shirt is damp with perspiration. Angie knows I have an early meeting, and she’s surprised to see me waiting on the terrace. “Happy Birthday, baby,” I say.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I wish I could say I remembered on my own, but I’d be lying. I pay a secretary for this, and she’s made damn sure I didn’t forget. Emily has ordered roses to be delivered sometime today, even though Angie’s favorite flower is the hibiscus, and there are dozens of red-hibiscus in pots on the terrace. I ask her: “Where do you want to go tonight?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I already know. Angie’s a homebody, and she doesn’t want to go to a restaurant. “The kids are meeting here,” she says. “Is Victor available?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]She means is Victor available to cook, and I say yes, because Victor is always available. I give her two tickets to a tony spa in California–she can take her sister. “Oh Louie, it’s so sweet,” she says. “You spoil me.”[/dcs_p]
