There really wasn’t anything left to say, she with her chewed and ragged nails, he with his cold, gritty coffee.
Through the window she saw a child with long, wavy blond hair outside yanking on a slender tendril off a birch tree. He has hair like the plastic ponies I played with when I was his age, she thought. Who lets the hair of their little boy get that long?
You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, he curtly observed to nobody in particular.
She continued staring out the window: I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear. The only thing you have left to do is repeat yourself until you feel justified and I’ll spare you the time and energy.
His grimace was so slight, not another person in the room recognized his distaste for the moment other than she. He hated it when she did that. She never gave him the satisfaction of drilling a point into her. With a dismissive wave and redirection of her glance she could end any conversation in time to preserve her dignity and pride.
Her Royal Highness.
How many times had he been subjected to her barrage of accusation and personal opinion, he wondered. Her armory was fat with explosive, eloquent words sharpened for assault. His unrequited patience would never, ever find an equal in her.
She shifted on the tall stool and clinked the tiny spoon in her empty mug. Do what you do best and leave, she said flatly. Be a hero.
A hero?
A hero.
To who?
Yourself, of course. The monotone in her voice was forced, but genuine.
The crack and scratch of an F14 wounding the sky above sounded through the windows and shook the legs of their stools ever slightly. The little boy froze in startled bewilderment, then darted out of sight with a gasp and barely audible cry.
Fine. I’m a hero to myself, then, he conceded. He couldn’t think of anything else appropriate to say out loud. He had plenty he wanted to say, but none of it could be appropriate he thought.
He tasted the cold coffee one last time while glancing at her fingernails. Jagged, he thought, like little saws. The cold sip left a bitter sheathe on his tongue and he let the mug clank down on the coaster.
The sound startled her into looking down at his cup. He rose and left without a word.
