“It’s my motto. My mantra, you might say. My mother was Scottish, and it’s something her people always said. Tada gan iarracht : nothing without effort. It’s a statement I try to live by, and what I wanted burned into my skin.”
She pondered that, drinking her coffee. “Like being a self-made man, right?” she asked.
“Right,” he said. “Like that.”
“Hmm . . .” she breathed, looking him up and down. “I’d like to know more about you, Chas—if you’d like to share more with me.”
“Sure,” he said, cocking his head and then deflecting her question. “Happy to tell you anything you like. But you first. Tell me something I don’t know.”
She paused for a moment, put on the spot. Then she figured she’d reveal a bit of herself, hoping he would do the same. “Well,” she said, “it might sound kind of strange, but I have a ritual I’ve never told anyone about.”
“A ritual?”
“Yeah. Before I make any big decision about anything, I like to ask my dad what he thinks, and wait for a sign. I know it’s silly. But before I went to Georgetown I asked his opinion, and the lights in my bedroom blinked several times. And before I started to work for my current company I asked him for a sign, and the next day I bought a winning lottery ticket. Silly, huh?”
“No,” he said, his eyes deep pools of compassion, “I don’t think it’s silly at all.”
She breathed an inner sigh of relief that he got what she was talking about. It felt good to share stuff about her dad like that, especially with a guy. “Do you think about your parents like that?”
“No,” he said with a far-off look in his eye, “not like that. In some ways I try not to think about them. Too weird, I guess. In other ways they completely govern the path I’m on.”
“How do you mean?” she asked, riveted by the deeper side of him.
“Oh, just how I navigate the world. I’m grateful for what I have, since I know what it is to have lost.”
“Right,” she said, taken in by his trust. “But it’s still a big giant hole in your heart, right? I feel sometimes like something started the day my dad died, something got put into motion, and it’s never stopped since.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “I feel the same.”
“What doesn’t kill you . . . right?”
He laughed. “Right.”
“Since that day,” she said, moving closer to him, “I think my life has been one long series of lessons. Recently I started saying a new mantra: enough with the lessons, just give me the candy!”
“God, I know,” he groaned. “Life can really kick you in the ass, can’t it? And just when you’re hoping for a little comfort . . .”
“You get kicked a little harder.”
They sat in stillness for a moment, just studying each other. Then Susannah said, “So do you still try to figure out what happened to him?”
“No,” he said abruptly, “it’s not something I want to talk about.”
“Oh,” Susannah said as she could almost see his walls rise up around him. Just when they were getting somewhere! “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Not at all,” he said, seeming like he was covering. “It’s just that I don’t really think about them much. Maybe we can enjoy each other a bit more before getting serious?”
“Sure,” she replied, “love to.” In truth, she was a bit put off. He clearly had his guard back up, and just when they had almost gotten to a deeper level of conversation. It was totally frustrating. They engaged with each other again but this time at a cautious distance. Susannah looked into his eyes and felt he was only partly there. After they both climaxed and lay down to sleep, she wondered if she’d ever really get to see his true self; then she immediately wondered if she was really thinking thoughts like these. Had he literally screwed her brains out? Frankly, this was the first time in years that her mind had actually begun to think about the possibilities. She began to
She pondered that, drinking her coffee. “Like being a self-made man, right?” she asked.
“Right,” he said. “Like that.”
“Hmm . . .” she breathed, looking him up and down. “I’d like to know more about you, Chas—if you’d like to share more with me.”
“Sure,” he said, cocking his head and then deflecting her question. “Happy to tell you anything you like. But you first. Tell me something I don’t know.”
She paused for a moment, put on the spot. Then she figured she’d reveal a bit of herself, hoping he would do the same. “Well,” she said, “it might sound kind of strange, but I have a ritual I’ve never told anyone about.”
“A ritual?”
“Yeah. Before I make any big decision about anything, I like to ask my dad what he thinks, and wait for a sign. I know it’s silly. But before I went to Georgetown I asked his opinion, and the lights in my bedroom blinked several times. And before I started to work for my current company I asked him for a sign, and the next day I bought a winning lottery ticket. Silly, huh?”
“No,” he said, his eyes deep pools of compassion, “I don’t think it’s silly at all.”
She breathed an inner sigh of relief that he got what she was talking about. It felt good to share stuff about her dad like that, especially with a guy. “Do you think about your parents like that?”
“No,” he said with a far-off look in his eye, “not like that. In some ways I try not to think about them. Too weird, I guess. In other ways they completely govern the path I’m on.”
“How do you mean?” she asked, riveted by the deeper side of him.
“Oh, just how I navigate the world. I’m grateful for what I have, since I know what it is to have lost.”
“Right,” she said, taken in by his trust. “But it’s still a big giant hole in your heart, right? I feel sometimes like something started the day my dad died, something got put into motion, and it’s never stopped since.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “I feel the same.”
“What doesn’t kill you . . . right?”
He laughed. “Right.”
“Since that day,” she said, moving closer to him, “I think my life has been one long series of lessons. Recently I started saying a new mantra: enough with the lessons, just give me the candy!”
“God, I know,” he groaned. “Life can really kick you in the ass, can’t it? And just when you’re hoping for a little comfort . . .”
“You get kicked a little harder.”
They sat in stillness for a moment, just studying each other. Then Susannah said, “So do you still try to figure out what happened to him?”
“No,” he said abruptly, “it’s not something I want to talk about.”
“Oh,” Susannah said as she could almost see his walls rise up around him. Just when they were getting somewhere! “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Not at all,” he said, seeming like he was covering. “It’s just that I don’t really think about them much. Maybe we can enjoy each other a bit more before getting serious?”
“Sure,” she replied, “love to.” In truth, she was a bit put off. He clearly had his guard back up, and just when they had almost gotten to a deeper level of conversation. It was totally frustrating. They engaged with each other again but this time at a cautious distance. Susannah looked into his eyes and felt he was only partly there. After they both climaxed and lay down to sleep, she wondered if she’d ever really get to see his true self; then she immediately wondered if she was really thinking thoughts like these. Had he literally screwed her brains out? Frankly, this was the first time in years that her mind had actually begun to think about the possibilities. She began to
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