The morning sun was high enough so that they were now
seated in the shade. A waiter with his black hair slicked back refilled their
coffee cups.
The young woman brushed her bangs back from her forehead.
“We need to talk,” she said. “Really talk.”
“Here? Too public?”
“Maybe.”
“We could walk over to the park.”
“No. No, here will be all right.”
He raised his cup and held it with both hands. “What do
you want to say?”
“I don’t want to say—just, I mean I want us to talk, to
listen.”
“Okay. Is it too chilly now for you?”
“No. Let me just say first that I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He set the cup down. “Why would you be sorry?”
“Just listen. Please. I want to have—I mean, I think we
should have a child.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yes.”
“Well, we could have a child I suppose.”
“You suppose? It’s not like getting a dog.”
“I know that. Of course it’s not.”
The waiter approached, but the young man waved him off.
“And I want us to join a church.”
“And?”
“And I want us to leave the city. I want us to move up
the coast somewhere.”
He tapped his spoon on the table top. “You understand
after seven years this is quite a change.”
“Yes. I know. I love you.”
“But?”
“Everything is different now.”
“I don’t understand. Are you so unhappy?”
“Not unhappy. I think we could be happier.”
“Well I’m not in this life to make anyone unhappy.”
“You don’t make me unhappy. We have a good life.”
“But?”
“Please stop doing that.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know I need to get back to the office. Wow. After all
these years, back to a church church?”
“Yes. Maybe. It’s just I can’t see how we go forward.”
“We’re married. Doesn’t that count toward something?”
“Yes. Maybe. Maybe not enough.”
He looked at the receipt and put a twenty-dollar bill on
the table. “Is this it? How it goes?”
Oh.” She looked down. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Will you be home when I get there tonight?”
“Don’t ask me that.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“I just don’t know.”
He stood up and pushed his chair in. “Well know this. No
one will ever love you more than I do.”
Lyman 2023
