Page 24 of Enzo

“Though … we travel to all sorts of destinations in the classroom.

“Classroom?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”

He looks at me and blinks a few times, as if I’ve told him that I’m a candlestick. I'm curious to know what conclusion he's arrived at.

“Is something wrong?” I instinctively swipe a finger over my lips. “Do I have something on my mouth?”

“It's not that.” He shakes his head. “You're a kindergarten teacher,” he remarks. “I was expecting a neurosurgeon or an astronaut.”

I'm not sure how to take this. I'm not sure if he's being condescending or not, or making a joke, so I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I could have been either of those things.” It niggles me, the idea that he might be looking down on me. I don’t like it. “I hope you're not being condescending at my expense.”

“No.” He looks shocked. “Not at all. I was trying to make a joke.”

“A joke? I could have been a neurosurgeon and I could have been an astronaut. And then what would you say?”

He opens his mouth, and I wait, but he closes it again.

“If I'd put my mind to it, I could have been anything,” I say with conviction. “That's what I tell my children—”

“Children?”

“I don't actually have children. I mean the kids in my class. I tell them that they can do anything they put their mind to.”

He cocks his head again. “You must be a great inspiration to them.”

“I like to think so.”

“And have they?”

I peer at him. “Have they what?”

“Have they gone on to do great things?”

“They're six.”

“I see.”

It's a good thing I like talking to people and I have no qualms about going up to strangers. Otherwise, this poor man would have had a very lonely evening.

“What do you do?” I ask.

He doesn't answer immediately. I wonder if he's an undertaker or a gynecologist.

“I'm …” He pauses, looking a little uneasy.

“You’re …?” A flood of options sweeps through my mind. A serial killer? A spy?

“Finance, strategy. Some real estate and development.” He sounds as if he’d rather not divulge.

“As opposed to fake.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fake estate … it was a joke.” My jokes aren’t complicated, and they always land, but not with this man.