Page 66 of Snowballed

I point to the small illustrations. “I think it’s because it contains apples and honey. Vermont is famous for apples.”

Zoe smiles. “Wow, that’s so cool. You’re making Japanese food for me and it has a Vermont connection.”

I stick the rice packages into the microwave to heat up. “I got us some cider. I thought that might go better with dinner.” And it fits with Zoe’s locavore leanings.

She picks up a bottle and reads the label. “Shipley Cider. That’s a really nice one.”

She sets the table, which is right in the kitchen. “Hey, I looked up Vermont Curry. It’s based on a health cure of honey and apple cider vinegar developed by a Vermont doctor. And now his office is on display in the museum in Shelburne. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. Talk about coincidences.”

Zoe is getting all sentimental. She reminds me of this movie character who said everything was invented in Greece, except in her case it’s Vermont.

“We’re so connected. It’s like fate that you came here, and we met,” she says.

“I guess. But it’s also because my grandmother has a sense of humor. There are other kinds of curry mixes, but she chose this one.” I lift the lid on the pot, and wow, the magic has happened. The curry now has a glossy brown sauce and smells delicious. As per my instructions, I put the rice on the plates and ladle the curry over it.

We both take tentative bites.

“Noah, this tastes amazing.” Zoe eats more. “It’s really good.”

It is delicious. It’s the best thing I’ve ever made, although that’s not a high bar. After eating a few more bites, I ask, “Is this how proud you feel when you cook something good?”

She laughs. “Well, the thrill goes away. But it is satisfying. Hunger is a basic human need.” She raises a forkful. “This is so good. I was worried because I don’t like spicy food, but this is not spicy at all.”

For me, the taste is homey and familiar. My bachan used to make this curry too. Her dishes remind me of her caring and affection.

“I’ve had sushi before, but this is completely different,” says Zoe.

“Perfect. I wanted to do something new for you.”

“No one has ever made dinner just for me. It’s wonderful.” Zoe is adorably appreciative. She would never equate how much money I’m spending with the quality of a date. And right now, that’s lucky. After dinner, we sit on the couch in Rocky’s tiny living room.

“Next time, we’ll go out,” I say. “Would you like to go to the Biscuit? Or is there another place you’d prefer?” The Biscuit is fun, but Zoe’s more of a foodie.

She considers this. “I don’t want to waste money going out.”

“It’s not a waste of money to enjoy ourselves.”

“I’ve only been to the Biscuit once. And it would be totally different going with you.” She scrunches up her nose. “Have you told people that we’re going out?”

“I told Wags. Briggs knows. My grandmother. I’m not really one for making big announcements. I keep private stuff private.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m not really…” She hesitates for a few seconds. “…your type of girlfriend.”

I have no clue what she’s talking about. “What’s my type of girlfriend?”

“Someone really beautiful. Well dressed. Sophisticated.”

“Why would you think that?” I ask.

Zoe’s eyes are wide and liquid. “Because you’re all those things.”

I’ve already got my arm around her, but I tighten my grip. “Zoe, I don’t really enjoy these hypothetical discussions. I like you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because you’re a good person. Character is important to me.”

She still doesn’t look convinced, so I continue, “When I came here, I was pretty pissed off. My father didn’t want me to transfer, and it was a whole new situation. Well, you saw what I was like when I got off the plane.”

“You were a horrible grouch.” She hugs me in case I’m offended.

I lean back a bit so I can see her face. “But I’m different now, and a lot of that is because of you. Because of your enthusiasm, your determination, and your sweetness.”

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