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"I'm impressed," I say. "Not many people would try to learn to read so late in life."
"Where are you going to say old?" he says, chuckling. "Are you calling me an old man?"
"Not a while, sir. You'll be an old man soon enough, though."
"You got kids?"
"No," I say.
"Well, I'm hoping you're not married, seeing as you and my Skye are doing whatever you're doing." I nod at him for a couple of seconds.
"I'm not married, don't worry."
"Good, good. Are you thinking of getting married?" He lowers his voice then. "Are you in love with Skye?" I stare at him for a couple of seconds and frown slightly. "You don't want to answer the question."
"This is just all very new with Skye and myself," I say quickly. I don't want to tell him that we're in a situationship because I don't even really understand what the situationship is or how it's really going to work out long term, considering that I already want to change the rules of the situationship.
"I know you like her," he says. "You can't deny that. I see the way you smile when she talks. I see the way you look at her." He grins. "That's the way I used to look at my old woman. She's been dead ten years now."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I miss her every day. Can't lie, don't miss the nagging though. Put the toilet seat down, do the dishes every single day, ten times a day. I used to tell her, ’Get off my case, woman.’ She would say, ‘I'd get off your case if you would do it,’ and then we'd bicker back and forth and she'd tell me to sleep on the couch, but I'd always crawl back into the bed and...well, we'd have that makeup sex and it would be all worth it in the end." He grins. "Miss her, I do. Sometimes I think about getting another, but what am I going to do at my age with another woman? I ain't really got much to offer. I mean, I got my kids and my grandkids, but what woman wants to take them on? If I'm being true to myself, I still love my ex-wife. Could I really tell another woman that I loved her? I've only told one woman my entire life I loved her. What about you?"
"What about me what?" I ask him, wondering if I should be getting back to the task of reading or continuing to have this personal conversation.
"How many women have you told you love them?"
"I’ve told my mother that I love her, and she's a woman."
"I would think she's a woman," he says. "She gave birth to you, didn't she?"
"Well, yes. She did."
"How many romantic women have you told that you love them?"
"To be quite honest, I have never told any women that I love them," I say softly, not wanting Skye to hear.
"You've never told a woman you love her?" His eyes are narrowed now. "This, I find hard to believe. How old are you, pushing fifty?" I stare at him and he bursts out laughing. "Just joking. I know you're not fifty. I would not let a fifty-year-old man be with my Skye."
"Okay. Yeah. Well, I'm in my thirties."
"So you like her?" he asks again, and I just stare at him for a couple of seconds. I look over to make sure Skye isn't listening to the conversation and lean forward.
"I do like her. I think she's very special and?—"
"Don't tell me it's complicated," he says. "It's never as complicated as people like to say it is. You either like her or you don't. You either want her in your life or you don't. You either want a commitment with her or you don't. Let me just say this because I can tell that you respect her and you care about her feelings, right?"
"I do." I nod.
"Don't play around with her. If she's not the one for you, if she's not someone you can seriously see making your wife, let her go. She's got a tender heart. She's a good woman and she deserves a good man." I stare at him for a couple of seconds.
"I'm not making her do anything she doesn't want to do."
"You're a good-looking guy. You're her boss. I can see that she likes you," he says. "Women, sometimes they have hope that things are going to change. I'm not saying that she has hope that things are going to change, but you know what I mean." I nod silently. "So think about it. You like her and you stay with her and you try and see if you can make this thing work, or you like her and you let her go and let her find the right man for her. That's the least you can do. I'm saying this because she's like a granddaughter to me. I love her. She's been coming here for years. She dedicates every Saturday, and sometimes during the week when she's not working, to come in and read with us. She's a good one. If I was fifty years younger, I'd give it a shot." He bursts out laughing. "Though, I don't know that my wife would've liked that."
"I don't know that she would've liked that either," I say, laughing, and he nods.
"Back to the book."
