33
What a Man
Knox
Paisley is trembling even though she changed back into her Baymax outfit. I turn up the heat and turn on the seat warmers, too.
She lets out a sigh of pleasure and snuggles into the leather as it warms up. “I can’t feel my feet,” she says as I start the motor and turn onto the road leading away from Buttermilk Mountain. She stretches out her legs in the footwell and moves her boots back and forth. “I’m telling you, it’s meningitis.”
“I’m not aware of any sources naming cold as the cause for any kind of meningitis,” I say, adjusting the heater to make sure it’s blowing out onto her feet, and cast Paisley a sidelong glance. She seems surprised, and I’ve got to laugh. “Come on, tell me.”
“What should I say?”
I turn the wheel and drive left, downtown. The road markings are no longer visible, and the traffic lights are hidden by the heavy snowfall. The falling flakes turn red, then green, and I drive on.
“It’samazingthat you even know what meningitis is, Knox.” I mimic her voice, a bit over-the-top, a bit too much surprise in my voice, to get her to laugh. It works, and the sound warms me more than the heated seats ever could. Then the sound fades until all wecan hear are our soft breaths and the heater.
Paisley is picking at the cuticle of her ring finger. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. I’ll give you all the answers you want. Where should I start? Baby spiders are known as spiderlings. Banging your head against the wall burns one hundred fifty calories. Hmm, what else? In some countries a woman can get divorced if her husband doesn’t serve her coffee.”
“Can you stay serious for a single second? You always have to—wait, what? For real? Whenher husband doesn’t serve her coffee?”
“I find that totally legitimate.”
“That go for cappuccino, too?”
“No. Just straight coffee.”
“How unfair. What if I don’t like straight coffee?”
“You’re American.”
“But if I was in that country, could I get rid of my husband if he didn’t serve me cappuccino?”
“No.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Well, think of the effort. There’s a difference between simply lifting up a coffeepot and pouring and making a coffee, steaming some milk, and pouring.”
“I am sure that there are fully automatic machines there, too.”
“Shhh. You’re spoiling the theory.”
“Knox?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you be serious for a sec?”
“Only as an exception, Snow Queen.”
“You said that you applied for the psychology program and were accepted.”
Shit. I would’ve preferred sticking to theories about coffee. Two heartbeats pass before I nod. “Correct.”
Paisley looks at me. “And you said you didn’t want to be a starsnowboarder.”
