"And? Come on. You clearly have more you want to say about it."
He slides his eyes over to me before flicking them away. "Do youwantthem to be written to you?"
"Well, I mean, obviously they weren't. But I'm pretty sure I like imagining they were." I swirl my gin and the ice clunks against the side of the glass. "That's weird isn't it? That's why you've gone all weird."
Ed laughs. It's short, like he's forced it out of himself. "For someone who's been as romance-starved as you, it's understandable."
We both take a drink and look out over the town. It's close to dinner time, but the day is still in full swing, the sun high. People, kids, still doing things, playing outside.
A breeze blows against our faces and the sound of all that activity gets momentarily louder.
I break our silence. "It's just they have this effect on me, you know?"
Ed doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. He continues to peer at the horizon. It doesn't make it easier to articulate what I think I should. What Iwantto, because he's my best friend and I have to share it with someone.
"I have an emotional reaction."
This gets a nod.
"More than what you've seen on video."
Ed glances at me then. "What do you mean?"
"Like...my own...romantic feelings."
"About...the soldier?"
My "Yeah" is very quiet.
So is Ed's "Oh".
"Sad, huh?" I laugh. It sounds bitter. "And kind of inevitable. All this time railing against falling for modern men, because they under appreciate women, and I go and fall for a dead man."
Ed loses the grip on the thermos lid and it falls between his legs, its contents spilling backwards towards his crotch. He leaps out of the leaner and stares down at the puddle slowly draining through the weave of the fabric.
"My sentiment exactly," I say.
He leans down and plucks the lid from the seat. His hand shakes.
"What..." he says, followed by, "I, ah..." Without finishing the sentence, he walks over to the chimney and sits on its edge, placing the empty lid beside him. "I don't really know what to say to that."
"There isn't anything to say. I'm not looking for advice or sympathy or anything. It's just what's happening and I'll get over it. Maybe when we find out who he is and there's some sort of closure."
"Right." Ed isn't looking at me. He's looking past me, his eyes unfocused.
I say, "It's your turn," and it takes him a couple of seconds to pull himself out of whatever place he was in.
"What?"
"I shared my bombshell and now it's your turn. I know there’s something up. Is it your job? Did your ex phone?"
He blows air out of his cheeks. "Well, I'm very worried about this whole Theodore Pinkerton affair. A lot. It affects many people I care deeply about."
"And you feel powerless to do anything about it?"
He looks away from me, almost as if I've made him uncomfortable again.
"Well,I'mnot worried."
