“But he’s going along with it?”

“It’s what I want to do. Dad, do you remember what you said that day you and Mom came down to Frank’s—about college being removed from reality? I’ve thought about that a lot, the way I’ve been living in a shell. I’ve lived away from home, but I’ve never really been on my own. The English Department has been my guardian and I’ve been its good little girl.”

“So now you’re Frank’s little girl. I wouldn’t call that being on your own, either.”

“Yes, it is. Since I’ve known Frank, I’ve been on my own in a very painful way. I’ve had to admit things about myself that aren’t very pleasant.”

“Like what?”

“Just the way I’ve been, the way I never paid any attention to Neil and Barry.”

“That’s natural. You’re the girl, you’re older, you’ve had different interests.”

“I’ve never had a job, not even a summer one, and before I met Frank I never had to consider anyone else or even meet them halfway. I’ve never allowed myself to be challenged. Do you remember in tenth grade how I hated gym and we got Dr. Patterson to write that phony letter so I could get excused? I’ve been doing that kind of thing all my life. When I got to college, if I didn’t like a class the first two weeks, I dropped it. If I didn’t bowl or play tennis well the first few times out, I quit doing it. I could always run back to the books and get my A’s.”

“You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Studying is hard work. Dedicating yourself to a goal demands discipline, and you’ve always had perfect discipline, the kind most people never have. I won’t let you minimize that. As for bowling or tennis, no one can excel in everything.”

“I know that. But it’s easy to hide yourself away in a niche and pat yourself on the back and never try anything else for the simple reason you might fall flat on your face.”

“Honey, not having a niche is what makes people miserable. Be thankful you’ve got one.”

I kept quiet for a few minutes until I found another argument. “When you fell in love with Mom, what did it feel like?”

“What do you mean?” He was wary of being sidetracked.

“How did you feel?”

“I was happy, of course. I guess I was flattered too, when I realized how she felt about me. There were a couple of others who wanted very much to be in my shoes. But I don’t see what—”

“Then it’s natural to feel happy when you love someone?”

“Certainly. What’s your point, Irene?”

“Just this. When I first knew Frank I was miserable. Can you imagine why?”

“Because he bowls and plays tennis better than you do.”

“Don’t be cute. It was because for once in my life I was doing something I couldn’t do well—loving someone.”

“What makes you think you can’t love well?”