“I’m sorry for getting angry just now. I was mostly upset with myself for setting a forwarding address with the post office, which now means those letters will arrive every week or two, without fail.”
“Will you at least tell me who they’re from?”
“My father. He’s been writing me letters for twelve years now, and I don’t like talking about him. But still, it was wrong of me to take it out on you.”
“Why is he in prison?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Carolyn, but I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t. Can we please just let it go for now?”
We sat staring at each other. I was thinking of Gene’s words, about Carolyn and how vulnerable she must feel. I smiled, and as I did I tried gathering every good thing about myself and placing it in that smile, hoping Carolyn might find some comfort in it.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’m good.”
“I mean, with everything, with this, with us? It all happened so quickly.”
She nodded. “I’m good. I mean, it’s a little scary, but it’s nice, too. We have a lot of fun.”
“Of course we have fun. I’m awesome.”
She laughed. “And modest.”
I lay on my back and stared at the specks of dust dancing in the lamplight. Carolyn reclined beside me. I put my arm around her and she placed her head on my chest. It was dark out, and cold, but the apartment was warm and cozy and I again felt that sense of contentment I had found the night in the bar when we first met.
Carolyn let loose an impatient sigh.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t like that you’re already keeping things from me. We’ve only been together for a week, Stratton.”
“I’m not keeping anything from you,” I replied, which of course was a lie, and Carolyn knew it, too.
A silence passed between us.
“I’m not asking you to tell me everything now, because I get that it’s a tough subject and that we haven’t been together very long, but will you tell me eventually?”
I thought about it a moment. “I’ll do my best, okay?”
She lay still for a time, and then ever so subtly shook her head. “Fine,” she said, and in that one word, there resided the unmistakable hint of impatience.
fifteen