“You look…”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
Devastating, I thought. Sexy. “Like a dapper ship captain from the 1860s.”
He laughed. “I was planning to talk like a pirate for the rest of the date, actually.”
“I would hope so.”
“Arrr,” he began, as we walked down the stairs. “I embody anti-imperialist free trade policies but am part of a corrupt labor system that exploits the marginalized through violence.”
“I knew there was a reason I found pirates sexy.”
He paused on the first floor to look at my dress.
“Stop smoldering at me,” I said.
“Canadians do not smolder. That’s strictly an American thing. We apologize profusely while leering at your legs.”
“It’s the subtle cultural differences that are always the hardest to learn.”
I reminded myself on the drive to the restaurant that I was supposed to keep things light, to not get too deep. But this didn’t feel like a casual date. When we arrived at the restaurant, which was a beautiful little French spot right near the water, Paul ran a hand along my arm as we waited for a table. He kissed the back of my neck when the hostess turned to find us a table.
“Are you okay after everything with your mom?” I asked, hoping to distract myself from how much I wanted to throw myself at him.
“Fine. I don’t want to think about it. My mother and my ex have gotten enough of my energy this week.”
“Did you talk to her more? Your ex?” I asked.
“Briefly,” he said. “At a coffee shop. She wants to talk again at some point.”
“It sounds like her jet setting didn’t work out so well.”
He shook his head. “I guess not. Let’s not discuss Trish. I might say something unkind, and I really don’t want to.”
“So Lisette,” I replied, searching for a subject. “Do you think she really needs to change her name?”
“I’m not sure it would help,” Paul said. “She’s not a natural blonde, you know. She does that because she wants to be harder for him to spot in a crowd.”
“That’s so horrible. I wonder if she should go back to Quebec. It seems like he’s only a couple of hours away from her here, and she has lots of big brothers who could beat him up.”
“Oh yeah. They’re all much taller than she is. You should definitely ask for photos; it looks like she’s the runt of the litter. But as far as her ex goes, you’re right. He’s only about a four-hour drive away from here. But she has a community here. Notjust me, but the church and so on, and that’s been helpful. I’m hoping he gets bored and moves on.”
“He’s probably tormenting some new girlfriend,” I said.
He nodded. “I hate the idea that him abusing someone else is the best we can hope for.”
“The best we can hope for is that he’s run over by a bus,” I said. “But in the meantime…if Lisette ever needs a place to stay, and I do end up back in Brooklyn, she can always hide out with me.” Paul glanced away when I mentioned going back to Brooklyn, then looked back with a careful smile.
“I’m going to try not to think about that.” He smiled, looking around the restaurant. There was delicate piano music playing, and the distant sound of the city. “It’s nice to just be here like this. Quiet. It makes me feel human again.”
“You like things calm.”
“In my emotional life? Sometimes. A lot of people think deep passion means yelling at someone, but I think it means choosing not to yell.”
“My mother was dramatic. She was always telling us stories about her own life, and how unlucky she’d been. She needed attention all the time. I learned to keep her happy by laughing at her jokes. And trying to be funny. To entertain her.”
He nodded, slowly. “Things got messy if I stood up for myself as a kid, so I just became quiet. My wife hated that. She was always trying to get me to fight, and I wouldn’t do it. So she would get louder, and I would shut her out. She thought it meant I didn’t care. But I just couldn’t have a relationship where everything escalated.”
