Behind The Wheel

Benji

Feeling a little guilty for making what felt like a wrong choice, I walked Charlie down the lengths of the kiosks to the back of the market where a narrow archway led into a hole in the wall sushi place run by a family of six. A grandmother, her daughter and husband, and their three teenage children. They greeted us with big smiles and gave us a private booth. We were served green tea while we went over the menus, and then we put in our orders and were spoiled with miso soup.

Charlie lifted the bowl to her lips and slurped. I hid my smile by lifting my own bowl and doing the same.

She licked her bright pink lips and I stared at her tongue. “You’re right. This might be the best miso soup I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I said.

The rest of the meal went just as well. Charlie ordered several things from the menu that didn’t have fish in them and, once they arrived, had me try a bite of everything she had on her plate. I was surprised that it was all delicious—especially the