It carried its own special meaning for us. A sacrament of our own, and by this point in our lives, yeah, it was holy. I’m not sure whether the meal marked the beginning of the week or the end; a reward for the worries we discussed, or preparation for what lay ahead. It was therapeutic. Cleansing. And delicious.
“Okay.”
He said it after I paused, but he probably thought I faltered. He said it with such a conclusive tone that I couldn’t help but feed into it, give a damn, which is exactly what he expected.
“What?” I stated.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
I hated this. He always did this to me; pulled some patronizing reverse psychology as if I didn’t know what was going on. He couldn’t have pulled an older trick, leading me into letting him to psychoanalyze everything one of my thoughts, feelings, and reactions. And yet,
“What do you mean, ‘keep her interested’?” I asked.
He sighed. “Jonah, women are really complex--”
“Fuck off.”
“--you have to tend to them, like a garden.”
“I’m leaving.”
“If you see your relationship with the girl progressing as it is, you’re wrong.”
And now he was serious Pete. And usually, serious Pete was right. But I didn’t want him to know he was right, so I chewed my waffles and stared out the window. Pete must have known he had struck a nerve, so he kept his mouth shut after that. The scraping commenced. By the time Denice came by, he had the plate bone dry and the sound of metal on porcelain was the only thing that lingered between Pete and myself.
“Anything else for you fellas?”
I looked at the waitress and shook my head. “Just the check, please.”
“Okay.”
He said it after I paused, but he probably thought I faltered. He said it with such a conclusive tone that I couldn’t help but feed into it, give a damn, which is exactly what he expected.
“What?” I stated.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
I hated this. He always did this to me; pulled some patronizing reverse psychology as if I didn’t know what was going on. He couldn’t have pulled an older trick, leading me into letting him to psychoanalyze everything one of my thoughts, feelings, and reactions. And yet,
“What do you mean, ‘keep her interested’?” I asked.
He sighed. “Jonah, women are really complex--”
“Fuck off.”
“--you have to tend to them, like a garden.”
“I’m leaving.”
“If you see your relationship with the girl progressing as it is, you’re wrong.”
And now he was serious Pete. And usually, serious Pete was right. But I didn’t want him to know he was right, so I chewed my waffles and stared out the window. Pete must have known he had struck a nerve, so he kept his mouth shut after that. The scraping commenced. By the time Denice came by, he had the plate bone dry and the sound of metal on porcelain was the only thing that lingered between Pete and myself.
“Anything else for you fellas?”
I looked at the waitress and shook my head. “Just the check, please.”
