"Oooh," she said. "Chives!" She put them in a small glass with water and set them on the counter. She motioned Patrick to the back of the deli where she put her arms around him. "Patrick?"
"Mmmm." The hug was warm and intense, but there was work, a sandwich, breakfast . . .
"Good morning," she said happily, letting him go.
"I need a sandwich—got to go to work."
"Roast beef?" She made the sandwich while Patrick chose a pint of orange juice and a banana.
"Want to meet me at the Depresso later?" he asked.
"I can't tonight," she said.
"Oh." He was surprised by his disappointment.
"Tomorrow?" she offered.
"O.K., good. Around five?" That was better. "Oh, Willow . . . " He turned in the doorway. "I've been thinking about science and art again."