FORTY-EIGHT
Most of her life has been spent in the countryside, hopping from one little town to the next.
It's no wonder, then, that the city—even one of a moderate size as this—takes her breath away. It almost intimidates her, with its tall buildings, all shiny colored glass and precisely laid out along the street; they dwarf her, casting long shadows that overlap and block out the sun. Squirreled away between the big buildings are smaller ones, less intimidating, but more worn—they awe her, too, because a lot more people come and go from them.
And the people!
So many, from all sorts of lives, walk along the sidewalk, and others pile into buses, and still more zip along in cars.
Well, cities aren't entirely alien to her, but this is the first time she's had the leisure (the peace of mind) to take in everything.
But nervousness flutters in her chest, so she keeps a tight grip on Mrs. Maria's hand, who thankfully doesn't seem to mind. In fact, Mrs. Maria looks over-the-moon happy; she happily points out side-streets and rattles off so much information that honestly goes over Elfnein's head. It's nice, though.
Although she stays silent, Mrs. Tsubasa keeps a light hand on Elfnein's shoulder. That's nice, too.
They slow down even further when they come to a row of restaurants and cafés. Mrs. Maria says, "Is there anything in particular you feel like eating?" She gestures around, pointing out a few in particular that she recommends.
She instinctively shies away from the more-crowded places, and looks around for something to catch her eye—she gravitates towards the cafés, which have splendid displays of desserts. At this time of year, it's mostly pumpkin-themed recipes that dominate the menus, but eventually she spots a café that boasts a variety of French sandwiches and other French cuisine.
Glancing at Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa, she waffles over how to tell them that she's decided where to eat. Well, the obvious and most-direct way is to simply say so, but that she finds that her voice fails her whenever she wants to initiate conversation with Mrs. Maria and Mrs. Tsubasa.
Luckily Mrs. Maria has a keen eye, for she catches Elfnein leaning towards the French café; she claps her hands and suggests, "L'Escargot, hm? Sounds like a good choice!"
"I believe we went there once with Maria's sisters," Mrs. Tsubasa thinks aloud, studying the building as they approach.
That makes Elfnein curious enough to ask, "Mrs. Maria has sisters?"
"Yes," Mrs. Tsubasa nods, "though they are traveling with a friend at the moment."
She wants to ask more, but if there's anything she's learned about playing the "getting to know you" game, it's that these kinds of questions are a two-way street. If she asks about their family and relations, they will ask about hers, too.
Choosing to let the matter drop, then, she stays silent until they are seated at one of the indoor tables by a window.
When she looks through the menu, she tries to sound out the French words under her breath, though she doubts she has the pronunciation anywhere near what it should be.
"Des gaufres," Mrs. Maria enunciates for her. At Elfnein's startled look, she adds, "I picked up some French back when I… when I traveled to Europe."
"Oh."
A waitress comes by their table, pen poised on a notepad, "Can I take your orders?"
Mrs. Tsubasa goes first, ordering, "May I have a number forty-eight, but with extra whipped cream, please? And a cup of green tea, please."
Elfnein checks the menu: #48 is a red-and-black crêpe.
"Sure thing."
Mrs. Maria orders a spinach quiche and a black coffee, not stumbling once over the French, and then it's Elfnein's turn.
"Um, m-may I… have… a—Belgian waffles, please? A-and, um, orange juice, please." There. Minimal stuttering, if she does say so herself.
The waitress nods, jotting everything down. "Coming right up."
Mrs. Tsubasa murmurs, "Ordering can be quite the challenge. I still have difficulty, myself."
"But you're so cool," she replies, then flushes red when she realizes what it is she's just said.
She called Mrs. Tsubasa cool.
Across from them, Mrs. Maria giggles. "You two look so adorable together," she says, "with your matching blushes. Can I take a picture? Please?"
Even redder, Mrs. Tsubasa glances at Elfnein, shrugging sheepishly. For her part, Elfnein fiddles with her hands, thinking that steam must be coming out of her ears, but she nods shyly.
More than one picture later, their drinks arrive; she is more than relieved to be able to hide her face behind her glass of orange juice—and it looks like Mrs. Tsubasa is, too.
It isn't so bad.
In fact… it's kind of nice.
a/n: please review! ^^