The smile, then wave
We pull into Belmont on the Red Line heading south on a dark, threatening morning. I look across the tracks and see her. Or is it her?
No, not some long-ago love lost, but that nice lady from the local fruit market. I've seen her for years ringing up and bagging my groceries, always with an easy smile but just a quick hello, because she doesn't speak much English and I don't speak any Spanish.
But is it her? I'm not used to seeing her without her grocery store smock. We both smile tentatively at each other, and then as the trains exits the station, she gives a big wave and bigger smile.
Yep, it's her.
That's just one small reason why I like living in the small town of the big city.