in his seat.
"You can't just tell a
fellow to talk and expect him to, just like that. Talk just has to
happen."
"Well, that's how I feel
about kissing. It should just happen. You can't just tell a girl to
kiss you and expect her to, just like that. Don't you find it's
getting a little old by now?"
Graham looked put-out for a
moment, but then he laughed, in spite of himself.
"You're not quite like
anyone else, are you?"
"I hope not."
"Well, you're not. You're
not like any girl I've ever known, that's for sure."
Graham still believed in a
formula. He thought Ruth was the exception to the formula. He
didn't know enough women – really know them, that is – to
understand that the formula is a myth.
*
* *
"Graham, aren't you seeing
an awful lot of that girl?"
His mother had waited up for
him. As Graham walked soft-footed into the house, she was waiting at
the kitchen table in her housecoat and curlers.
"What are you doing up,
Mom? It's late."
"I know it's late. That's
why I'm up. You're father and I have been worried about you. I
never see you anymore. I couldn't go to sleep until we'd talked, and
it seems the only chance I'd have to catch you was if I waited up for
you."
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?
I'm dead beat. I'm sure you must be."
"I know you're over
nineteen. I know you're a grown man. I don't want to interfere in
your life, but as long as you're under our roof, we can't help
feeling responsible for you. We don't want you throwing your life
away."
"I have no intention of
throwing my life away. What're you getting at? It's too late at
night for this discussion, anyways."
"I mean that girl. The
Chavinski girl. The one you've been seeing so much of."
"You mean Ruth? What about
her?"
"Well ... just that ...
she's not quite like the other girls, is she?" (Mrs. MacKellum
should have known better than to believe in a formula. She didn't
really, but it was something to say. She meant that Ruth was not
like one other girl in particular.)
"And hooray for that!
Who'd want her to be like the other girls?"
"What's wrong with the
other girls? There are plenty of nice girls around. You seemed very
fond of Lily Turnbull at one time. I don't know what happened
between the two of you, but your father and I have often wondered. I
don't know how Ruth could catch your fancy after Lily. They're very
different people."
There was a hint of a knife's
edge in Graham's short laugh.
"Maybe that's why Ruth
'caught my fancy' as you put it."
"Well, that's what I'm
afraid of."
"I don't know what that's
supposed to mean. What're you afraid of? I don't know what you have
against Ruth, Mom."
"I don't have anything
against her, personally. I'm sure she's a nice enough girl. It just
seems like you took up with her awfully quick after you and Lily had
your falling out. I'm afraid, well, I'm afraid of you hurting Ruth,
for one thing. She's more serious than the other girls are, I think.
I wouldn't mind so much if she was the kind of girl just out for a
good time who could look after herself. I'm afraid you're still
smarting from whatever happened with Lily, and Ruth is a distraction.
But does she know that? Are you being fair to her?"
"Why are you so worried
about Ruth all of a sudden?"
"I'm worried about you,
Graham. I'm worried that you're heading somewhere you don't realize
you're heading. Girls have their ways of hanging onto young men.
There's been more than one young fellow to find himself trapped into
a situation he never planned for."
"Mother! I really hope
you're not implying what I think you're implying! Let me tell you
something about Ruth. She is, as you say, 'a nice enough girl.'
She's not only nice. She's good. She's ... I dunno. She's
different. There's something good and, well, straight about her.
You're right, she's not like the other girls, and I think that's what
it is that's 'caught my fancy.' I like her. A lot. I have no
intention of hurting her, if that's what you're worried about. I
don't think she's
"You can't just tell a
fellow to talk and expect him to, just like that. Talk just has to
happen."
"Well, that's how I feel
about kissing. It should just happen. You can't just tell a girl to
kiss you and expect her to, just like that. Don't you find it's
getting a little old by now?"
Graham looked put-out for a
moment, but then he laughed, in spite of himself.
"You're not quite like
anyone else, are you?"
"I hope not."
"Well, you're not. You're
not like any girl I've ever known, that's for sure."
Graham still believed in a
formula. He thought Ruth was the exception to the formula. He
didn't know enough women – really know them, that is – to
understand that the formula is a myth.
*
* *
"Graham, aren't you seeing
an awful lot of that girl?"
His mother had waited up for
him. As Graham walked soft-footed into the house, she was waiting at
the kitchen table in her housecoat and curlers.
"What are you doing up,
Mom? It's late."
"I know it's late. That's
why I'm up. You're father and I have been worried about you. I
never see you anymore. I couldn't go to sleep until we'd talked, and
it seems the only chance I'd have to catch you was if I waited up for
you."
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?
I'm dead beat. I'm sure you must be."
"I know you're over
nineteen. I know you're a grown man. I don't want to interfere in
your life, but as long as you're under our roof, we can't help
feeling responsible for you. We don't want you throwing your life
away."
"I have no intention of
throwing my life away. What're you getting at? It's too late at
night for this discussion, anyways."
"I mean that girl. The
Chavinski girl. The one you've been seeing so much of."
"You mean Ruth? What about
her?"
"Well ... just that ...
she's not quite like the other girls, is she?" (Mrs. MacKellum
should have known better than to believe in a formula. She didn't
really, but it was something to say. She meant that Ruth was not
like one other girl in particular.)
"And hooray for that!
Who'd want her to be like the other girls?"
"What's wrong with the
other girls? There are plenty of nice girls around. You seemed very
fond of Lily Turnbull at one time. I don't know what happened
between the two of you, but your father and I have often wondered. I
don't know how Ruth could catch your fancy after Lily. They're very
different people."
There was a hint of a knife's
edge in Graham's short laugh.
"Maybe that's why Ruth
'caught my fancy' as you put it."
"Well, that's what I'm
afraid of."
"I don't know what that's
supposed to mean. What're you afraid of? I don't know what you have
against Ruth, Mom."
"I don't have anything
against her, personally. I'm sure she's a nice enough girl. It just
seems like you took up with her awfully quick after you and Lily had
your falling out. I'm afraid, well, I'm afraid of you hurting Ruth,
for one thing. She's more serious than the other girls are, I think.
I wouldn't mind so much if she was the kind of girl just out for a
good time who could look after herself. I'm afraid you're still
smarting from whatever happened with Lily, and Ruth is a distraction.
But does she know that? Are you being fair to her?"
"Why are you so worried
about Ruth all of a sudden?"
"I'm worried about you,
Graham. I'm worried that you're heading somewhere you don't realize
you're heading. Girls have their ways of hanging onto young men.
There's been more than one young fellow to find himself trapped into
a situation he never planned for."
"Mother! I really hope
you're not implying what I think you're implying! Let me tell you
something about Ruth. She is, as you say, 'a nice enough girl.'
She's not only nice. She's good. She's ... I dunno. She's
different. There's something good and, well, straight about her.
You're right, she's not like the other girls, and I think that's what
it is that's 'caught my fancy.' I like her. A lot. I have no
intention of hurting her, if that's what you're worried about. I
don't think she's
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