Page 108 of Crosswind

"Ask him," I say.

"I'm asking you."

"He thinks you worry about me," I say. "In a good way. He mentioned it in the taxi."

Peter looks at me. "He said that on the way from the airport."

"He observes things," I say. "It's what he does. He notices and he files it and he doesn't make a performance of it." I pause. "It took me a while to understand that's how he loves people. By paying attention."

Peter is quiet. He looks at Jan's back, still at the stove, apparently unaware of the conversation happening six feet away.

"He's already got me figured out," Peter says. Quietly. Not bothered by it. Something warmer than that.

"Probably," I say.

Jan, without turning around: "The pasta is ready."

Peter looks at me. I look at my glass.

"How long has he been listening," Peter says.

"The whole time," I say. "Probably."

Peter shakes his head slowly. He is, I notice, smiling.

I set the table.

Peter and Jan resume their discussion about European fiscal policy. After several minutes, Peter looks at me.

"You're not saying anything," he says.

"I don't have opinions about European fiscal policy," I say.

"Jan does," Peter says.

"Jan has opinions about everything," I say.

Jan, sitting down with the serving dish: "That's accurate."

Peter looks at me. The look that means: I see it. Then back to Jan. "Okay," he says. "Where were we."

At some point during dessert Peter puts his fork down and says: "I watched the airline ranking video. Before I came."

Jan looks at him.

"I now understand," Peter says, "why people online are obsessed with you."

"They're not obsessed," Jan says.

"They are," Peter says. "Correctly." He picks up his fork again. "The part where you refused to discuss the Madrid delay and then discussed it anyway was particularly good."

"I have documented feelings about that airline," Jan says.

"Yes," Peter says. "The whole internet knows."

I look at my dessert and feel, quietly, that the two parts of my life have just touched.

Saturday Jan takes us to the Jordaan.