Chapter 12
“You’re quiet. Something wrong?” Finished with his hamburger and every single French fry he’d been served, even the tiny bits of overcooked ones, Tony glanced covetously across the table at what was left on Margo’s plate. They’d had to wait for a table at the popular Deschutes Brewpub and during the wait she swore he’d moved from hungry to ravenous.
“It’s noisy in here and I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” She pushed her plate with the half-eaten burger and fries across to him. “You must be tired, too. It’s been an even longer day for you.”
He cleaned up her leftover fries, then seemed to realize she was playing with her glass of beer as a way of avoiding his eyes. His head tilted, he frowned at her. “It’s more than being tired. You’re not happy about something. Is it because I’m here or because I didn’t tell you I was coming to Portland? I could have told you last night on the phone. It just seemed fun to … anyway, I apologize if you didn’t like being surprised.”
“No, I loved the surprise. I’m glad to see you, really.”
“Then what is it? Your body’s here — which I’m enjoying looking at — but I don’t have much of your attention. What’s going on?”
“It’s just that … oh, God, Tony, you know how I am.” She looked up, directly at him. “Ever since I got back from Philly, I’ve been trying to make sense of what happened between us. But I haven’t been able to. And now, before I can get it sorted out, here we are, all coupled up.”
“Meaning … ?”
“Everyone thinks we’re a couple. Our families. All my colleagues. Tonight all those people looking at us like … well, like ‘Oh, aren’t they a cute couple’ … and Kiki and Liz making a fuss over us.”
“And that bothers you because … ?”
“It doesn’t bother me. It worries me. If it doesn’t work out, will I make my mother unhappy, lose your sisters as my friends, piss off your mother, embarrass myself in front of everyone I work with, make my friends feel sorry for me because this gorgeous man dumped me?”
“Jesus, sugar, you worry about things that wouldn’t even occur to anyone else. First of all, why do you think it won’t work out between us?”
“I’m not saying that it won’t. I’m just trying to anticipate what could happen. And even if it does work out, there’s a whole other set of questions. Who’s gonna move where? Will one of us end up with no job? Will I have to sell my house? Will your career be wrecked because that Inquirer reporter who knows every organized crime figure in Philly from Angelo Bruno on connects you with my father? How’ll we deal with the long hours we both work?”
“I was wrong. That’s beyond worrying. I don’t even know what to call it. It must be hell inside that head of yours.” He leaned across the table and took her hand. “No wonder you’re so quiet. You’re so busy coming up with all the things that can go wrong, you don’t have any room left in your mind to think of a topic of conversation.”
“It’s not funny. It’s … I don’t know … it’s … I can’t figure it out.”
“I’m not going to joke you out of this, am I? Okay, then I’ll ask a serious question. Would you like to go away by yourself this weekend to work this out? I assume that’s what the solitude in the wilderness is about.”
“I was ready to go away and try to work it through but now that you’re here, all I can think about is being with you.”