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“No.” Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he was looking for Disney, and that didn’t exist outside of movie theaters.
“Marriage is work,” she said, almost like she’d stolen the line from his dad. “But the work is the romantic part. Any old…bozo,” she said. He chuckled and she stopped talking for a moment, clearly caught off guard. “What?”
“Dad said you wouldn’t call the men you’d dated bozos.”
“Oh,” she said, then laughed. “They weren’t bozos. Or I’m sure their wives don’t think so.”
“That’s very nice of you, Mom.”
“That’s what I mean,” she said, following some line in the conversation that he was missing. “It’s easy to be romantic. Anyone can think of roses, and they even sell them at grocery stores. And then you have commercials that tell men to buy their wives diamonds. But it’s work to be there for every conversation. To take over the burden when your loved one can’t and to let them take it over when you can’t. And I think that’s where the romance is.”
Devotion. Loyalty. Stick-to-it-ness. He hadn’t had a personal crisis—other than this one—that he’d needed Marsie to be around for, but he didn’t doubt that she’d be there in the future. Marsie didn’t shy away from things because they were hard or uncomfortable. Marsie showed up to life, though she did it in her own way. And her own way was one of the things he liked so much about her.
“Marry someone you want to do that work with. And who you think wants to do that work with you.”
“Mom,” he said, swinging his feet to the floor and leaning on his desk. “What do you do when Dad does something that hurts you?”
“Sometimes I pretend it didn’t happen. Deafness has saved many a marriage.”
“And the other times?” It was too late for Jason to pretend he hadn’t seen the algorithm, and he wasn’t sure he’d want to pretend. It seemed too big to ignore.
“We talk about it. I don’t always get to wait until I’m ready to talk about it, but I try to wait until the hurt has died down enough that I can understand his point of view.”
Could he listen to Marsie’s point of view?
Yes.
Could he do it now?
No.
“Did someone hurt you?” his mom asked. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone. I mean, other than that you’re always dating.”
“Yes, but I’m not ready to talk about it with her.”
“Is it the math girl?”
“What?” How did she know? She’d had eyes in the back of her head when he was a kid, but she lived too far away for such magical sight now.
“You mentioned her to your dad. You never mention specific women to your dad. She must be important. Do you want to talk about her?”
“No, not right now.”
“I’m here when you want to.”
“I know.” Like Marsie, his parents were steady and reliable. And, suddenly, that sounded like the most romantic thing on the planet.
“Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, dear. Call anytime.”
After his mom signed off, Jason looked at the screen on his phone. But he didn’t text Marsie. Or swivel in his chair to head up to her office. He couldn’t, because he couldn’t think of her without thinking of those algorithms.
“You’re wasting your life,” his favorite professor had said when he’d dropped out of school. “Wasting your life and your intellect.” Like the only thing that made life worth the air he breathed was a fancy diploma hanging on his wall.
It’s what Marsie considered important. That had been abundantly clear in all her attempts to add up her perfect partner.
Jason had run into that professor at the grocery store a couple years ago. Despite the addition of over a decade to their faces, they’d recognized each other. Also despite years and Jason’s good job, the man had still told him what a shame it was that he’d wasted his talent.
Jason’s girlfriend at the time had agreed with the professor, in what was the beginning of their lack of “spark” and the end of that relationship. The thought of hearing something similar come out of Marsie’s mouth cramped up his stomach.
