Chapter22
Nervously, he thought about what he was going to do when he saw her get off of the plane. Was it going to be like other times, when his mind went into a slide show of her smiling at him, looking at him as if he were the center of her world, taking his hand into hers, walking with him as if they were two explorers who could overcome any obstacle that was set in front of them. Or, was it going to be the small smile that upturned the edges of her mouth with strain. Was her body going to stiffen when she was close to him and was her hand going to tentatively pat his back as if the very feel of him was toxic? Waiting for the plane and thinking about how he’d phoned Zoe’s house and been told that she was out. Nothing more: out. Hearing the humiliating pause, he’d asked if her mother would tell her that he’d called. The begrudging “yes” followed by the distinct click of receiver being replaced in its cradle.
The announcement came that the plane had landed. She carried one bag slung over her shoulder. She was standing upright in spite of the weight, keeping her posture and smiling at him. He moved to her instinctively, lifting the bag from her shoulder. He kissed her. She said, with a nervous tension in her voice, “It’s good to see you.”
They walked to his car together. He still wore his tie, although he had tugged the knot down to the center of his chest hours ago. Her leather jacket was form- fitting and her long skirt swayed beneath it and brushed against her ankles. The longing that he felt was deep, sad, and uncontrollable.
“Have you eaten?”
“I’m starving.”
They drove to the Café Mozart in Union. They ate goulash and spaetzel and red cabbage. They drank German beer. He told her about the fire and about his students. She told him that she had learned to make paper. No, she never thought about acting anymore. Yes, she was seeing someone but he wasn’t important. She was going to stay with her mother. No, her mother hadn’t stopped drinking. Yes, she was thinking of coming back to New Jersey.
She didn’t touch him as they spoke. Then she reached her fingertips across the table, slid them along his forearm and said, “If we can just stay friends long enough, who knows what might happen.”