Today is Free Food day after all, and Mom insists that there is no better way to fight the cold than to eat an authentic, perfectly flavored Curry from the Spice Market. She leads by example, and engages in a conversation with a vendor she’s somehow on a first name basis with. The vendor teases her about how there will be “no haggling needed today,” and then mom sits down on one of the colorful tables nearby, clearly happy with herself.

Very clearly happy with herself.

It’s my turn to order, while my siblings are too chicken to try the… well, the spicy chicken.

A sad-looking man in his forties drags his feet behind me as I talk with the grey-haired vendor. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.

Then he sits down in front of Mom. She draws a stunned breath, and I remember who he is, just as he looks up to recognize her.

“Romain!” she smiles, before pulling him in for a hug. She sees an old friend she wants to greet — I see what she misses, in the way he looks at her. I see a ghost who could never get over what never was. Maybe he could never live at all.

“I’m happy to see you,” she says brightly. “What have you been up to, and how are Marie and William?”

“Azalea…” he whispers.

From my spot on the bench where I pretend not to be listening, I get bits and shadows of what he’s telling her. I don’t understand it all. Part of what I’d need is buried under decades of life and things my parents would never share. But I can imagine.

“It worked out for her,” he says. “She got deal after deal, and she decided she didn’t need me after all. She lives in Champ Les Sims now, with William. And I’m alone.”

“Romain, I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I wish we’d kept in contact.”

“Yes…,” he says. “I wish we could have.”