a half a cup

my neighbor,
the piano teacher,
came over one night
to borrow some olive
oil.
she knocked at my door
with a small bowl
to hold it in.
normally when she knocked
she was carrying a glass
of wine and a nearly
empty bottle of chardonnay.
she was almost always crying.
not this time.
i'm cooking for my fiancé,
she said.
and I just need a little oil
to finish
the recipe. half a cup will do.
my fiancé is waiting,
for me.
he's a teacher at my school.
he's younger than you
taller too.
perhaps you'll meet some day.
I gave her the bottle
and said keep it. my gift
to you
and your fiancé.