It just popped into his head. Like a tiny electric spark he had not even noticed until that moment. “What is a tempest in a teapot?”
She actually laughed out loud. “What on earth?”
Colin liked her then. She had a laugh like a big human bell. “It’s something I read last night.”
She lost her smile. “Youreadit.”
“Just before I went to bed. The last thing.”
“Where did you read this, Colin?”
“The RaleighNews and Observereditorial page.” He was sorry to see her smile go away. “I know what a tempest is. And a teapot. But the two words together, they don’t make sense. The editorial had it in there twice. Once, maybe it was a mistake. But not two times.”
She reached for her purse and drew out her phone. “I think maybe I’d better record this conversation. Is that okay with you, Colin?”
“I guess.”
“What do you think tempest means?”
“A big storm. Violent. Dangerous.”
“That’s exactly right.” Her words came more slowly now. Careful. Precise. “A tempest in a teapot means someone or something is making a big fuss about nothing.”
Colin rocked back and forth. “Wow.”
“Okay, Colin, remember what I said at the beginning? I need you to be honest with me. I can almost see the gears in that beautiful little head of yours grinding away. Tell me what you’re thinking. Let me share in what’s happening here.”
He loved how she watched him. Totally focused onhim.There was nothing else in the world except her and him. Together. Talking with her was as easy as being silent most of the time. “I love having things become clear. What you said, it makes me understand the editorial. The person writing—his name was Doctor Arthur M. Bell—he’s angry because the Supreme Court wants a university in Wisconsin to change its admission policy to promote affirmative action. He says a state university should be allowed to make its own mind up. Not follow rules laid down in Washington.” He stumbled twice in explaining, overaffirmativeandadmission. “Long words are hard.”
“Yes, they most certainly are.” She seemed to find a need to draw in closer still. “Do you like reading the editorial page?”
“I like how it shows the way people think.”
“Why does that interest you, Colin?”
Suddenly he found himself wanting to cry. Since his fatherhad started drinking most nights, he’d come to hate it whenever Colin cried. Stop acting like a baby, he’d said, shouting at Colin. Stand up and be aman.
Colin swallowed hard and said, “People are so confusing.”
She reached out and gripped his knee. Just for a moment. But in the touch Colin felt the same warm strength he saw in the woman’s gaze. “Do you like numbers?”
He nodded. “A whole lot.”
“I’m going to skip over the simple stuff and go straight to the gravy. Can you tell me what is seven times eight?”
“Fifty-six.”
“Okay. Good. How about fifty-three times one hundred and six?”
“Five thousand six hundred and eighteen.”
She studied him a moment, tapped on her phone, studied him some more. “Do you know what a square root is, Colin? No? Okay, the square of a number is when you multiply it by itself. So the square of seven is …”
“Forty-nine.”
“Right on the money. So the square root is the opposite value. When you multiply it by itself, it gives you the original number. So the square root of seven, what do you think that is?”
“That’s a hard one.”
