He wasn’t there. We walked out of the station with satisfied, idle people who walked well-dressed even if they dressed sloppy. We stood there as they were hugged and kissed by more satisfied, idle people, then driven away in big cars. Or taxis. There were so many people, the taxis took them and came back and took more. Still he didn’t come. Soon we were the only ones standing there. Dante was very quiet beside me and I could smell him sweating like he does when he’s afraid. Why? And why didn’t Paul come? They were always on time. Ginger. Did she tell her husband not to bring me? My face went hot to think she could do that. Dante sweated. One last taxi came slowly back into the station. The driver stared at me through the glass; I saw he was Mexican. Dante said, “I don’t think he is coming.” The driver rolled down his window and said something to Dante in English; Dante answered him. Then he spoke to me. “You’ve been here a long time. Do you need a ride?”
I smiled to hear Spanish and said no, we were waiting. Dante said something to him and he asked me what kind of phone I had because maybe he could charge it in his car. When he got out and I could see him fully, I trusted him to let him take the phone. But his charger didn’t work on our phone, so he gave it back and asked me where we wanted to go. I told him it was to see my daughter ride in a horse show and, by his face, he didn’t believe me. He said, “Where is it?” I took out my envelope with their address on it and showed it to him.
“It’s right next to this place,” I said, pointing.
“I could take you there,” he said. “I could take you for half price.”
“Thank you, but our friend said he would take us there. We’ll wait.”
He shrugged. I expected him to go away, but instead he asked, “Where you come from?” I told him, and he said he was from Bushwick. We talked bullshit about that, and more time went by.
“Look,” he said, “why don’t you come with me? It’s twenty dollars, but for you ten.”
“It’s still too much.”
“Okay, Mami,” he said. “Five. For you.”