He didn’t have to have verbal diarrhea like her, but he could at least give her more than that.
She pressed on. “Left your mark on the town and its inhabitants then went to make it big in D.C.?”
“Left graffiti on the wall beneath this porch is pretty much all I did.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you had more impact than that. It’s not there anymore. What did it say?”
“The graffiti?”
She nodded.
He shifted his eyes sideways with a little lopsided grin of embarrassment. Then, bringing his gaze back to her, he said, “Swallow the world and shit it whole.”
“Ouch.” She laughed. “Sounds like childbirth.”
His burst of laughter caught her off guard. It was raspy and made her unclasp her palms, turn them, and claw the insides of her thighs.
“I’m sorry,” she said, chuckling and becoming even hotter in the face.
“No,” he said through the laughter. “That’s perfect. We were kids; didn’t know what the fuck we were talking about.”
“And did you?”
“What?”
“Swallow the world?”
“No.” He shook his head, still chuckling.
But she had a feeling he had gotten pretty close. This man, who looked so good in the simple Henley that clung to his shoulders and delineated his athletic arms, had spent most of his adult life in suits with people the rest of the nation and the world only ever saw on TV.
They were still worlds apart, and she should remember that, though it was becoming harder by the second.
“What about you? What was your last name before Hays, by the way?”
“Peterson. Minnesota, you know.” She smiled and shrugged. He was interested in her “before,” and she liked that. “I left no graffiti behind.”
“You love science. Chemistry. Did you ever want to become a scientist or—”
“Or have I always dreamed of being a school teacher?” she guessed the rest.
His gaze pinned hers. “My mother was a teacher. It’s a tougher job than most. And crucial to get right.”
She hadn’t expected his reply. He kept surprising her, shattering patterns she had grown used to.
“I didn’t always want to become a teacher. I love the experimental part, but not so much the math and processes that lab research requires. I took up a job as a teaching assistant in college and fell in love with it. It turned out well because, when we moved here, it was easy to find a teaching job, and it works well when you have kids. I get to do experiments in class or at home. I don’t have the patience and resilience that being an academic requires.”
“I don’t know about academia, but you seem plenty resilient to me.”
She had to force herself to break eye contact, force herself to remember he was good with words. A pro, in fact. She should remember that.
He was going back to Washington, and she belonged in this small town. Worlds apart. She should remember that, too.