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“It’s Espresso, Not Expresso,” He Said, and Our Friends Laughed
Six years of “it’s gnocchi,” “nobody says supposably,” and me laughing first. Then I heard his voice come out of my mouth at breakfast.
I thought laughing first made it a joke. It just made me his best audience.
Saturday. 9:15 p.m. Our dining room, eight people, two candles burning down to the brass.
I was carrying the tiramisu in from the kitchen. I said, “Who wants an expresso with this?”
Graham didn’t look up from his wine.
“It’s espresso,” he said. “Not expresso. There’s no X, babe. We’ve talked about this.”
Somebody snorted. His college friend Paul said, “Oh, he got you.”
And I laughed.
I laughed first. I laughed loudest. I did a little curtsy with the tiramisu.
I laughed louder than anyone at that table, because if I laughed first it was a joke we shared and not something he did to me in front of our friends.
Then I went back to the kitchen and stood in front of the espresso machine he bought me for our fifth anniversary, and I didn’t make anything for a full minute.
