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The metal of her needles clicked. The pages of Karl’s book rustled. If, on the other side of the city, someone with a telescope was scanning windows, they would see what appeared to be an old married couple so comfortable with each other they didn’t need to talk—not two strangers with no idea what to say to each other.
“What book are you reading?” Vivian was struck by the sudden and silly fear that a stranger looking in the windows with a telescope knew what Karl was reading while she, sitting next to him, had no idea.
“Hmm?” Karl looked up and it took a moment for his eyes to focus on her across the cushions. “It’s a collection of Herman Melville’s short works. He wrote Moby Dick.”
“I know who Melville is. I may not have graduated, but I’ve taken some college classes. I’m not stupid.”
He turned his head back to the pages, giving her snippy comment all the attention it deserved.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ve never said or even implied I was stupid. I don’t know why I reacted so poorly.”
Only she did. The uncertainty of her existence and unwanted helplessness wore on her, coming out in bile when she was least prepared to stop it. Feeling close to, yet so distant from, the man on whom her life currently depended on was unsettling.
Which was no reason to be a bitch when all he’d done was answer her question.
He lifted his head and turned to her again, his face as expressionless as desert sand. “Not knowing who Melville is would only imply a deficit of education. It wouldn’t say anything about your innate intelligence.” Then, though there was no discernible change in his expression, his eyes softened. “I didn’t know you went to college. What did you study?”
“Nothing.” His expression hardened and he was turning his attention back to his book when she started talking again. “I didn’t mean that to be snippy. Working full time meant I didn’t have much time for school, and so I took what I wanted when it was available. It didn’t amount to much of anything in particular.”
She didn’t tell him that the thought of finally graduating from college and facing job applications was terrifying. What if she’d spent all that time and money getting a degree and then still couldn’t get a job other than dealing in casinos? So long as she never graduated, she never had to face losing the security of a job that offered health insurance and paid enough for her to keep an apartment and a car. She never had to leave the comfort of walking through the same doors for sixteen years and the security of knowing exactly who she was and what she was doing, even if she didn’t like it.
It hadn’t escaped Vivian that her father had been responsible for both destroying her chance at college after high school and destroying the life she’d built for herself once she’d realized “college student” wasn’t something she could make work and still hope to eat. She could’ve handled the pregnancy on her own if she’d still had that job security.
“When did you learn to knit?” He was focused completely on her, the book on his lap closed, without even his finger to mark where he’d stopped.
Vivian admired Karl’s ability to focus, although she was afraid she might come to crave it. When his hazel eyes fixed on her, her heart raced and her entire body warmed by ten degrees. Between pregnancy and being in the same room with Karl, she didn’t need a winter coat.
“About ten years ago—when it seemed like everyone was learning how to knit. I’ve always liked activities that used my hands.” Mostly she’d made dishcloths, which she’d had to donate to the thrift store before driving to Chicago because she couldn’t justify taking them with her.
“Like card dealing?”
“The casino had automatic shufflers and the fancy shuffling techniques my father taught me would have been forbidden anyhow.” Some of which made counting cards really easy and had been designed to facilitate cheating. But she’d always preferred the ones that looked fancy without being deceitful.
“Can you show me?”
“Card shuffling tricks or knitting?”
He appeared to take her question seriously, even though she’d meant it as a bit of a joke. “Card shuffling tricks.”
