54

EMILIA and I go to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which is filled with paintings I’ve never seen before and painters I’ve never heard of before. It’s filled with everything from impressionist paintings to abstract to surrealism.

I’m in heaven.

Every time I see a painting I like, I gasp and hurry over to it. Emilia follows, breathing heavily but not complaining.

“Do you need to sit down?” I ask her, nodding at a bench. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. I want be here. And besides, it’s

good for me to walk around. Helps get circulation to my ankles.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?”

“Fran.” Emilia gives me a pointed look. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. Besides, I want to see you happy. So, look at however many paintings you want. If I need to sit down, I will.”

Ten minutes later, she sits down, motioning me to go on ahead and enjoy all the art. I spend some time looking at a cubist painting when a man comes to stand beside me. With a quick look at him, I can tell he’s handsome. T
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