She was blushing now, and talking fast, like she was telling a secret she was relieved to be free of. “They weren’t always as extreme as they are now, you know. When I was younger, big storms were events. But I was interested in them even then! I mean, did you know how rare and beautiful a tornadic waterspout is? Or that hurricane eyes are surrounded by a vertical wall of clouds that are the most destructive part of the hurricane? But if you fly through the wall, you’re in the most peaceful, gorgeous place you’ve ever seen? It’s all so fascinating!”

“Tina?” I said. I really didn’t know what else to say.

She went on in this rushed tone, talking about gigantic Mexican spring-pendulum seismometers and other such oddities. I was so surprised that I didn’t say anything.

Finally she stopped. She looked around. The only person she saw besides me was a little woman painting her toenails zebra stripes, as she had requested for her “for-fun pedicure.” I wasn’t sure quite how many pedicure intentions she had, but I suspected they were numerous. She let out a sigh. I had never seen her look so relaxed. The whole thing was so odd that I was pretty dumbstruck. Then, to be polite, I suppose, she said, “What about you, Evann? I suppose you’ll say you’re most passionate about the artwork you collect?”

I paused again, this time because I was blown away by the fact that she did take an interest in the things I talked about, when I clearly had known very little about her. I felt kind of bad, you know? Like here she was, just waiting to tell someone all this weird stuff she was into, and never had the chance. What kinds of friends did she have that this was her life, holding in the things she really cared about? What kind of marriage? I felt pretty weird all of a sudden.

I guess I waited too long to answer, because she gave me a strange look. Really quickly, I said, “Yeah, of course. Art. Basquiat. Galleries. Collecting.”

She tossed her perfect blond hair over her shoulder, but continued giving me a penetrating look that I didn’t know she had in her. It was like I had broken the ice on a lake and found the cold waters.

“You haven’t done any of those things in months,” she said more wisely than I ever would have given her credit for. “You must be miserable.”

Then I was crying. My God, my God, I thought. I’m crying in front of Tina. I wiped my eyes and tried to say something, but there was nothing to say. I was so miserable. Even Tina could see it.