(English original)
Mary puts our cups in the sink and then opens a low cupboard. Instead of
pots and pans it has stacks of records in it. She pulls out _West Side
Story_ and then I see there's a record player on a side table. What d'you
know? A record player in the kitchen! This Left Bank style of living has
its advantages.

"I sit down here and eat and play records while I do my homework," says
Mary, which sounds pretty nice.

I ask her if she has any Belafonte, and she says, "Yes, a couple," but she
puts on something else. It's slow, but sort of powerful, and it makes you
feel kind of powerful yourself, as if you could do anything.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's called 'The Moldau'-that's a river in Europe. It's by a Czech named
Smetana."

I wander around the kitchen and look out the window. The wind's still
howling, but not so hard. I remember the ocean, all gray and powerful,
spotted with whitecaps. I'd like to be out on it.

"You know what'd be fun?" I say out loud. "To be out in a boat on the
harbor today. If you didn't sink."

"We could take the Staten Island ferry," Mary says.

"Huh?" I hadn't even thought there was really any boat we could get on.
"Really? Where do you get it?"

"Down at Sixty-ninth Street and Fourth Avenue. It's quite a ways. I've
always gone there in a car. But maybe we could do it on bikes, if we don't
freeze."

"We won't freeze. But what about bikes?"

"You can use my brother's. He's away at college. Maybe I can find a
windbreaker of his, too."

She finds the things and we get ready and go into the living room, where
Nina is sitting reading and sipping a glass of wine.

"We're going on our bikes to the ferry and over to Staten Island," Mary
says. She doesn't even ask.

"Oh-h-h." It's a long, low note, faintly questioning.

"We thought with the wind blowing and all, it'd be exciting," Mary
explains, and I think, Uh-o, that's going to cook it. _My_ mother would
have kittens if I said I was going out on a ferry in a storm.

But Nina just says, "I see," and goes back to reading her book. I say
good-bye and she looks up again and smiles, and that's all.

It's another funny thing-Nina doesn't seem to pay any attention to who
Mary brings home, like most mothers are always snooping if their daughter
brings home a guy. Without stopping to think, I say, "Do you bring home a
lot of guys?"

Mary laughs. "Not a lot. Sometimes one of the boys at school comes home
when we're studying for a science test."

I laugh, too, but what I'm thinking of is how Pop would look if I brought
a girl home and said we were studying for a test!