Another metaphor.
Art. It hides the truth in beauty and feelings. That’s a noble thing.
Math and science still make more sense to me, though. This plus this equals that. Add this to that, and you’ll get this.
Olivia plus John equals…what?
She sniffs, clears her throat, and lies down beside me, staring up at the ceiling. “But yeah. Once I’ve dancedGiselle, I can retire, get fat, and crank out a little monster or two. …Do you? Want kids?”
“Yes.”
“You do?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I don’t know. Do I?” she asks. “I am. Sorry. It’s just hard for me to picture you driving a minivan and changing diapers.”
“Would I have to do both at the same time?”
“Well, obviously Richard would be driving while you change diapers in the back of a luxury electric minivan.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She is quiet for a while before saying, so quietly that I barely hear her, “Would you wait?”
“For you? Yes.”
Olivia rolls over to rest her face on my chest. It feels wet where her cheek is pressed against me. She sniffs again. I stroke her hair. “What’s your middle name?”
“Anthony.”
“John Anthony Brandt?”
“My mother’s father’s name. Italian American.”
“That’s where you get the dark hair?” She swirls her fingertips over my chest hair, and I feel it everywhere.
“Yes.”
“And the fiery temper.”
“Exactly.”
“What’smymiddle name?”
“Your middle name is Tamsin, after your grandmother. It’s a diminutive of Thomasina.”
She kisses me sweetly and draws some pattern on my chest hair with the tip of her index finger. I think she’s writing her name over my heart. “Do you ever feel lonely?”
And there it is. My trigger question. The one that usually sends me running for the exit. But not now. Because it’s Olivia, and because it doesn’t feel like a leading question. She actually wants to know.
“You mean because I’m so much smarter than most people?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
“I don’t get lonely because I’m always busy,” I say. “I’ve never felt isolated because my thoughts always keep me company.”
“I would laugh, but I totally believe that.”
