"Are you late because you brought dinner?" Tall's bracing himself against the wall of this entryway. He's paler than the last time I saw him, but maybe it's the artificial light in his hallway.

"It's coming. I ordered from your favorite sandwich shop. They'll be delivering shortly." I go through the door past him. "Are you feeling ok?" At a closer inspection his face is shiny with sweat. "Did you get here without your walker? You're supposed to use it at home at all times." I put down my helmet on the floor under his ancient rotary phone.

"Sure. We all know that will not happen. I won't drag that thing around the house with me." Tall wipes his brow. "I'm also supposed to move more and getting from the chair to the door is not that hard. I'm perfectly capable to walk on my own. Look at me." He lifts his hands in the air and does the slowest twirl I've even seen. On the last turn he looses his balance, but catches himself on the wall.

"Are you dizzy?" I lean to help steady him.

"Dizzy? Nonsense. It's exertion. I'm good."

"I'm not Ben and I won't chastise you, but you know you are defying your doctor's orders."

"Not the first time. I've been through the hip recovery. I know what it's like." He takes small steps into the living room and has to let go of the wall. I cleared up the books off the floor before I moved, and stacked them on the shelves or underneath them. There's a box by his chair that shouldn't be there. The path to chair should be clear.

"Why is there a box in the middle of the floor?"

"Come and see what I have for you." He lowers himself into the chair. His breathing is hard, as if he ran a mile.

I take my place opposite him on the recliner that used to be his favorite, but he can no longer get in and out of.

"What's this?" I pick it up to gauge the weight of the box. It's not full of books, that much I can tell.

"Open and you will find out." He wipes more sweat off his brow.

The lid isn't taped, it comes off in one go and I recognize what I see.

"You kept them all?" I take out a bundle of my letters to Tall tied with twine.

"Of course. Sentimental value. Haven't you kept mine?"

"Not all. I'm not that organized. But Mom did send what I had left. Must be in the unopened boxes."

"I thought you can put them in order. I haven't read any of them since after I got them. It's the last five years of your life right here. At least what you've shared with me."

"Which was a lot. Too much, it appears." I lift my eyes to him to mock-judge him. "You, however, had plenty of secrets left."

"I should've told you about Benny," Tall says and looks at the photo of his son I framed and put on his side table. "But now you know everything." He rubs his hand over his chest. Thinking about Benny must still be painful. Or is it about more than just his son?

"Everything?" I untie the twine on the first package and take the letters out of the envelope.

"You mean Constance?"

"I don't mean anything." I unfold the paper and look at the purple glitter ink I used to love five years ago. I've invaded his privacy enough with my nosiness around Benny. I'd love to learn more about Tall's wife, but I'm not going to ask. I 'm going to keep myself in check.

"She's still alive. She got marries again, had two children: a boy and a girl. I've never seen or talked to her after she moved to California. I even have her address somewhere in my address book." He points with his head to the hallway where I a notebook lies under the rotary phone, that's where I wrote my cell number and my new address for Tall as well.

"Would you like to? See her?" I ask.

"I thought about it." Tall rubs the left side of his chest again. "I would've liked to check in on her, but it's not about me. She has a life and she has people she loves and who love her. It would be selfish to stir up the past, to tell her I love her and to parade this old sack of meat in front of her."

"Parade?" A corner of my mouth lifts and I purse my lips, attempting to hold off the smile. I fail.

Tall narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. "Parade might've been the wrong word. Although if it were up to Ben, that's exactly what I'd be doing—parading up and down the street every day. He'd train me for a marathon too." Tall shakes his head again and joins me in smiling. "Have you told him you love him?"

"Way to change the subject. You really don't want to talk about Constance that much?"

"It's not that. I'm much more interested in the current love story between the two of you than my past one that leads nowhere. Reminiscing is my second favorite thing to do. You know what the first one is?" He taps the tips of his fingers together.

"Meddling?" I raise both of my eyebrows and leave my mouth in a frozen, deranged half-smile and half-scowl.

"Bingo." He points at me. "Thus we are going back to you. Have you told Ben?" Tall leans back and settles in his chair. His forehead is sweaty again. The apartment is a tad warm.

"Should I open the window? You look a bit hot."

"It's all the walking. I'm good. And I know you are trying to change the subject. What's going on with you and Ben."

Maybe my over-focusing on how Tall looks is a way to get out of talking about my feelings. "We've been back together for less than two weeks. And I'm not even sure what level of together this is."

"How so?"

I love Tall and we are close, but I'm not going to tell him Ben was a virgin when we met and I was not. That my part in our dating journey was the leading one. I'm no longer a leading character, and it could be anyone in my spot. I don't bring any unique value anymore.

"He can have anyone."

"I'm not following."

"He has options. I'm not the only person who's interested in dating him."

"You were not the last time around either. And unless you plan to eliminate the entire population of Earth, I'm not sure how that is relevant."

"Five years ago I was..."

"His first lover?" I freeze and pretend to examine the next envelope in my hands. "You young people assume we forget how everything works below the belt when we get enough wrinkles. You must've realized I knew."

I slide the second letter out. The green glitter pen is easy to read and I trace the letters with my eyes, but gather no meaning. My mind is on the fact that Tall knew and that I somehow imagined he didn't. He knows everything. It's one of Tall's superpowers. "You are very observant." I say without moving. I'm not ready to see what his expression is. It's safer to keep opening my letters. I'm comfortable talking to Tall about almost anything, but I'm not comfortable to talk about this topic even with myself.

"That I am, that I am." He rubs his hands. "And you can look at me. I'm not Medusa and won't turn you into stone. I neither have the ability nor the desire to."

"You are trying to entice me into talking about my love by brining up Greek mythology? Or is this just another opportunity for you to show off?" Trepidation slithers under my skin, but my voice doesn't shake. Verbal sparring is what Tall and I can spend hours on. This time the topic is too raw and vulnerable for me to enjoy it. I raise my eyes at him.

"To put you at ease, I swear to take your confessions to the grave." He puts his hand on his heart. "I will not say a word to anyone and not certainly not to Ben. I promised you before and I'm promising you again. What you say will not leave this room." He rubs at the area and opens the first button on his polo shirt.

Tall knows so much, and my last therapy session was months ago. The fears have stoked the flames of the old the self-doubt and insecurities I thought I had under control. "This time I'm one of many. Why would be choose me? Love me? What is it about me that sets me apart?"

"Ah, the impostor syndrome."

"No. The truth."

"Let's play your game." Tall clasps his hands, raises them to his face and rests his chin on them. "Let's reverse this inquiry. Why would you choose Ben? Love him?"

"Well," I sputter, "why would I not?"

"Humor me. What attracted you to him first?"

"He's handsome."

Tall coughs. Is is his turn to mock-judge me? "You are not going to pretend you love him for his looks," he says. "If he gets acne all over his face, you're telling me you'll drop him and go find yourself someone else to love with a more perfect appearance?"

"No. And Ben's not even my type. I've always gone for tall and dark. But his looks do help."

"Let's not kid ourselves that his looks are the number one appeal for you. What do you really love about him?" Tall's eyes spar with mine and crack the vault of my resistance open.

"It's not like I've made a list. How do you decide on why you love someone, you just love them, no?"

"That's a cop-out. I don't believe that you don't know why."

"I've never thought about it this way." I haven't. Now that I do, it's not like the correct answer displays on my mental announcement board 'five reasons why you love Ben'.

"Never? Maybe it's a splendid exercise to do it. How does he make you feel?" Tall coughs again but waves away my concerned look. "I'm fine. Don't deflect. Tell me."

How does Ben make me feel? "Like I don't have to pretend?" I huff in frustration. "I don't know, it might be too deep of a conversation. I don't think you love people for a reason."

Tall finishes another bout of cough and I decide to call his doctor and get him a visit.

"Let me tell you what I love about you," he says. "And no, I'm not trying to be a gross sleazy old man after someone who could be his granddaughter. But you know I love you like a parent. Like a friend."

I nod. No one has ever told me the reasons they loved me. Dad, Nonna, Angie, Mom told me they love me a million times, but never why. Now that I think about it, I would've loved knowing.

"Let's begin." Tall raises one finger. "You are short."

"Wha—?" He must be loosing his mind.

"I'm tall, you are short, it allows us to encompass the many perspectives of life."

"You are messing with me."

The wrinkles around Tall's eyes betray his joke even though his mouth remains in a straight, unsmiling line. "I couldn't resist. You see how ridiculous your statement about Ben's looks was?"

"Hmm." I don't deign him with an answer.

"You are not about keeping up the appearances"—he bends and rises the same finger up— "you don't go back on your word"—the second finger is up—"you care, maybe too much"—the third one is up—"you stand up for yourself"—fourth finger is up— "and you have a good taste in literature." Five fingers are in the air.

"Not go back on my word? That's an exaggeration."

"Is it, really? If you promise something—you do it. Who put Angie's baby shower together? How about all the times you've stayed late to work with your students? Translated stuff for your colleagues? How many times have you been to visit me at the rehab facility?"

"That was all very self-serving. I want to have a good relationship with my friends, students and colleagues. Everyone does things like that. And visiting you, well, you are like a free therapy session. You listen to me and I can use visiting you as an excuse to stop by 'Maison Parisienne' and get something for myself alongside getting something for you."

"And I believe you're not doing any of this with a plan to collect. You want to help. It's a lovable thing about you."

I wanted to help Ben when we first met, but the help was self-serving then as well: I enjoyed Ben's company and I wanted to keep seeing him. When I helped Mom with the boys—their company made my chest fill with the love. Offering to help with Kora lets me spend time with her and Angie and none of it out of the goodness of my heart. "Let's agree to disagree. I'm a lot more selfish in my motivations behind helping people than you give me credit for. I do have good taste in literature. That one is spot on. I'm surprised you didn't mention that I'm a good cook? I might decide to stop brining you dinner."

"You are a good cook, but that is not why I love you. I appreciate it though, so don't stop. My stomach thanks you." He pretends he's doing a curtsy which with him already in the chair results in the flailing of hands and tilting of his head. A giggle escapes my lips. I catch the second one before it emerges and wag my finger at Tall.

"You're not going to distract me. Back to your list. Keeping up the appearances? What's that's supposed to mean?"

"You are not trying to buy an expensive car even if your account is overdrawn, just to appear to be well-off..."

"There's nothing wrong with trying to look nice." I tried to learn that skill from Mom over the last years. "And I will get a car, eventually. I'm grateful I can borrow Mike's bike and my Angie's helmet because I'm too poor to afford transportation. No one will sell me a fancy car even if I tried to get one. My credit score acts like a great deterrent for any chance at borrowing money or buying something using credit. I'm the high-risk category financial institution run away from."

"You're missing the point again." Traces of irritation come through his voice and he's rubbing his chest again. I don't like the look of it. "There are always reasons why we love people, even if some are not as tangible. It's not an easy list and not a list that is unchanging. You don't need to know them all. There is something to be said about the bonds of a family, but sometimes we love people who are not our family even more."

"What you say sounds like it should be right, but I might be not wise or...old"—I wink at Tall—"enough to understand."

The tension in his eyes melts, and he nods a couple of times, maybe in agreement and maybe in regret that I'm not getting it. "Promise me to think about it?"

"I promise."

"And tell Ben when you figure out the answers."

"I—"

"You don't have to report to me."

I shrug my shoulders, unwilling to commit to that last request. Saying I love you for the first time is hard enough, listing the reasons why, might be above my abilities. "What do you love about Ben?"

Tall coughs and I think it's because of my question, but the cough persists and he has to take a deep breath and a long one out.

"I'm calling your doctor tomorrow morning. This cough of yours is not getting better."

"It's just all the talking and walking. I have no fever, I checked, so you should quit worrying."

I don't believe him.

"I can tell you why I love Ben though: honesty, desire to do good in the world, resolve, his heart and the ability to see the best in people."

We agree there. I also love the way he knows his mind.

A ring at the door announces our dinner must be here. I jump up to my feet and leave the room.

3/21/21

Do you agree with Tall that we love people for specific reason that can be named or are with with Am, that we just just people and it's impossible to put in words the resons for our feelings?