wonderful evening. I love you with all my heart.”
He replied with a perfunctory “Me, you,” but began to doubt if he really meant it.
Under ordinary circumstances, Goodwin would have been elated, but he was despondent. Sophie’s living arrangements troubled him greatly. There was little doubt that she was quite wonderful, but she was clearly short changed in the rationality department. His friends were absolutely right. His perception of her must have suffered under a cloud of rebounditis. It was clear to him in a verydepressing way that his lovely soul mate was one of those single over 40 adults that Graves counted as a functioning psychotic. While the evening was extraordinary, it was also quite dangerous. Future involvement with Sophie would end in disaster. Goodwin knew that he had to cut the relationship off before his emotional connection to Sophie passed the fail-safe point and there was no turning back regardless of the consequences. Sophie, he told himself sadly and resolutely, had to be history. Bloomingdales could no longer be on his itinerary.
That good and prudent conclusion lasted until Sophie appeared within the frame of his office door several hours later. He hadn’t seen her at first. He was looking at the photograph taken the night before. Despite his conclusion about the instant demise of their relationship he was smiling fondly at it.
“Hi there, soldier. Want to go skating?”
“Sophie, what are you doing here?”
“It’s too nice to work. Sky is a perfect blue. The temperature is in the low 50s and I have two employee passes from Bloomies for Walman Rink.”
“But, what about your law firm? What you told me about you being a lawyer was true wasn’t it? He was praying for a yes.”
She laughed. “Absolutely. I just took today off. Bloomingdales is a place I just hang out in at night. It’s not a very long story. Come skating with me and I’ll explain.”
She was wearing a short red skating skirt, dark tights, and a white long-sleeved tee-shirt that accentuated her beautiful body. The thoughts that troubled him evaporated, at least for the moment. He replied: “But, I haven’t skated in years and besides I have nothing to wear and plenty to do today.”
“You mean that important velvet inventory in your Edison, New Jersey, plant. I read your appointment schedule, told your receptionist that I was affiliated with Bloomingdales, which is true in a very loose way, and she rearranged that exciting appointment for tomorrow. Here’s a matching Ralph Lauren outfit.”
“Did you shoplift these?”
“Borrowed. I just throw them into the return bin; they’re cleaned and resold. Not to worry. As for your not skating for many years, it’s just like making love. Once you do it, you never forget, except you don’t moan as much, unless skating turns you on or more realistically you twist your ankle.”
Despite a shaky start and wobbly ankles, Goodwin felt a sense of great exhilaration. And, why not? He was with an extraordinarily beautiful, funny, and bright woman with whom he was beginning to feel inexorably connected. His concerns about her, for the moment at least, were pushed aside. And, he was starting to skate rather well. His outwardly bound ankles and wobbly legs corrected themselves after two rotations around the rink. Sophie skated backwards, effortlessly, urging him on. She skated around him as he moved forward and on occasion did a little pirouette.
He was sweating when they sat on a bench and drank some hot chocolate. “You’re such a good skate!” she laughed. “You deserve a reward.” Sophie grabbed the back of his head, pulled him towards her, and kissed him passionately. It was the type of spontaneous public kiss he had seen other couples do, generally younger, and which he always envied. He thought, “It’s so nice to be in love.”
“Sophie, I know this is crazy. I’m a guy who always has his arms around his emotions most of the time, a guy totally in
He replied with a perfunctory “Me, you,” but began to doubt if he really meant it.
Under ordinary circumstances, Goodwin would have been elated, but he was despondent. Sophie’s living arrangements troubled him greatly. There was little doubt that she was quite wonderful, but she was clearly short changed in the rationality department. His friends were absolutely right. His perception of her must have suffered under a cloud of rebounditis. It was clear to him in a verydepressing way that his lovely soul mate was one of those single over 40 adults that Graves counted as a functioning psychotic. While the evening was extraordinary, it was also quite dangerous. Future involvement with Sophie would end in disaster. Goodwin knew that he had to cut the relationship off before his emotional connection to Sophie passed the fail-safe point and there was no turning back regardless of the consequences. Sophie, he told himself sadly and resolutely, had to be history. Bloomingdales could no longer be on his itinerary.
That good and prudent conclusion lasted until Sophie appeared within the frame of his office door several hours later. He hadn’t seen her at first. He was looking at the photograph taken the night before. Despite his conclusion about the instant demise of their relationship he was smiling fondly at it.
“Hi there, soldier. Want to go skating?”
“Sophie, what are you doing here?”
“It’s too nice to work. Sky is a perfect blue. The temperature is in the low 50s and I have two employee passes from Bloomies for Walman Rink.”
“But, what about your law firm? What you told me about you being a lawyer was true wasn’t it? He was praying for a yes.”
She laughed. “Absolutely. I just took today off. Bloomingdales is a place I just hang out in at night. It’s not a very long story. Come skating with me and I’ll explain.”
She was wearing a short red skating skirt, dark tights, and a white long-sleeved tee-shirt that accentuated her beautiful body. The thoughts that troubled him evaporated, at least for the moment. He replied: “But, I haven’t skated in years and besides I have nothing to wear and plenty to do today.”
“You mean that important velvet inventory in your Edison, New Jersey, plant. I read your appointment schedule, told your receptionist that I was affiliated with Bloomingdales, which is true in a very loose way, and she rearranged that exciting appointment for tomorrow. Here’s a matching Ralph Lauren outfit.”
“Did you shoplift these?”
“Borrowed. I just throw them into the return bin; they’re cleaned and resold. Not to worry. As for your not skating for many years, it’s just like making love. Once you do it, you never forget, except you don’t moan as much, unless skating turns you on or more realistically you twist your ankle.”
Despite a shaky start and wobbly ankles, Goodwin felt a sense of great exhilaration. And, why not? He was with an extraordinarily beautiful, funny, and bright woman with whom he was beginning to feel inexorably connected. His concerns about her, for the moment at least, were pushed aside. And, he was starting to skate rather well. His outwardly bound ankles and wobbly legs corrected themselves after two rotations around the rink. Sophie skated backwards, effortlessly, urging him on. She skated around him as he moved forward and on occasion did a little pirouette.
He was sweating when they sat on a bench and drank some hot chocolate. “You’re such a good skate!” she laughed. “You deserve a reward.” Sophie grabbed the back of his head, pulled him towards her, and kissed him passionately. It was the type of spontaneous public kiss he had seen other couples do, generally younger, and which he always envied. He thought, “It’s so nice to be in love.”
“Sophie, I know this is crazy. I’m a guy who always has his arms around his emotions most of the time, a guy totally in
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