We found the restaurant and were taken to our seats immediately. Suzanne ordered sake for all of us.

“Don’t let this stuff fool you,” she said. “It’s potent.”

The menu at Sushi Samba had just about everything in the world on it. A lot of it could have been written in Greek, unless you ate Japanese food frequently and knew the terminology.

Suzanne said, “Why don’t I just order for the table and everyone can help themselves to some of everything?”

We all said that sounded fine to us, as Suzanne had been coming here for ages. So she quickly began to rattle off our order to our server. She ordered edamame and Berkshire pork belly ramen to begin. Next, she ordered toro, hamachi, unagi, udama, and uni. Those were all various creatures coming to us straight from the sea. Then she ordered some traditional rolls and two kinds of tempura.

“You must be very hungry,” said our waiter.

Suzanne twisted up the side of her mouth and looked at him and said, “Yes, as a matter of fact. We are.”

The food began to arrive, platter after platter.

“It’s too pretty to eat,” Momma said.

“Oh, darling,” Suzanne said. “Take a picture with your iPhone and just dig in!”

I pulled mine out and recorded the moment for posterity. And I snapped pictures of Charlene, the QB, and Suzanne.

The warm sake was replenished over and over.

With just a little coaxing from Suzanne, Momma ate tuna sashimi and loved it.

“How come I never knew about tuna . . . what do you call this?” she said, and I laughed. Momma’s eyes were being opened to the larger world, bit by bit.

“Sashimi,” Charlene said.

“No more calls,” Suzanne said. “We just lost a virgin.”

Momma gave Suzanne the hairy eyeball. And Suzanne burst into laughter.

“I love a woman with some spunk!”

“Delicious,” she said and turned to me. “I’d like a picture of me eating this. Do you think you can manage that?”

“That sounded pretty harsh, darling,” Suzanne said. “Is everything all right?”

“It did?” Momma said. Then she turned to me and said, “I just want to remember this night and I began to panic that after dinner it would all be over. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Momma! Smile big! Charlene, you and Suzanne get in the picture, too! One, two, three!” I clicked the button a few times.

“The night’s young, Miss QB,” Charlene said.

“And miles to go before I sleep!” Suzanne said.

“Robert Frost?” Momma said.

“Whose woods these are I think I know . . . ?”

Suzanne recited the whole poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” and Momma fell in love a little more.