“I have no idea,” I lied, “I was sitting at breakfast, and she just walked up and kissed me, probably to wish me happy birthday.”Mary stood. �...�Let’s dance again.” We went back to the dancing but after only two more songs, it seemed it was time for a slow number.Mary closed with me and put her arms around my neck. Mine naturally went to her waist. As we danced, she asked, “So, what did she get you?” “Who?” I asked. I had spaced out a little. I’d been starting to notice things about Mary other. “What’s that one?” a voice asks me. I glance over and then up. It’s an African-American guy, maybe six-four or six-five. He’s pretty big.“This? It’s Cambozola.” I look at the sticker on the front. It has a drawing of a wedge of cheese on a cutting board. For some reason I always thought it was a picture of mountains. Guess you have look sometimes.“Is it good?” he seems genuinely interested.I laugh.“Actually I don’t like it,” I say and he looks confused.“My husband likes it a lot. Puts it on. More

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