The one who came for dinner

I met Kristin at a cocktail party.

- IT CAME TO MIND | MANISH NANDY

A Lithuanian designer, she wore a self-designed colourful dress and looked poised and regal but turned out to be convivial and congenial. I liked her and invited her for dinner the following Saturday, along with another couple at the party, a radiologist friend and her husband. The radiologist called Saturday morning and asked for a rain check; she had an emergency. I was unperturbed: I thought I would have some quiet time with Kristin.

Then Kristin called and said she was sorry but the babysitter for her child had just called and cancelled, and she couldn't find another babysitter. I pondered for no more than a second and said, “Bring her along.”

Kristin hesitated, “Are you sure?” I told her I was more than sure. I was indeed sure I wanted to see Kristin.

She arrived precisely on time. She looked elegant as ever. Next to her stood a five-year-old, Maya — as her mother introduced her. She looked splendid in a chrome frock, her shoulder-length hair neatly brushed down, eyes luminous with curiosity, maybe a dash of disquiet. Her tiny hands stuck to her side, a sign that she wasn’t sure of the surrounding.

I promptly offered, “May I take your hand?”