At a small table, within a mall-based Starbucks, YaYa and I sit. A decaf latte and a hot chocolate sit cooling between us. He quietly reads his book while I resist the urge to ask him questions.
He is reading the first book in the Harry Potter series, and I desperately want to know where he is in the story. I want to know what Harry is up to, if he’s met Hermione and Ron yet, and whether or not he has arrived at Hogwarts. It is exciting to watch his finger move across the page. His lips nearly, but not quite, mouth the words.
If only I could read YaYa’s mind; then I would know what he thinks about the story, and feel the excitement of wondering what will happen next – just as I did when I was reading the story for the first time. Instead, I sit quietly watching him and patiently waiting for him to offer commentary.