Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [57]
She felt her cheeks burn. Was their breakup the stuff of discussion? She supposed so; it was a tight-knit community, and people genuinely cared about each other. The protracted on-again off equals again romance had probably kindled all kinds of discourse.
"I could have handled it better." She tried to sound neutral, unemotional. "I could have stuck to it the first time I told him it wasn't working, instead of taking him back again and again."
"I know Cheb. He has a silver tongue. If he'd lived four hundred years ago he would've been a salesman."
Kathryn smiled. They'd studied about salesmen in school, about the time in Earth's history when people actually tried to talk people into acquiring things they didn't need, just to make money. It sounded so bizarre that she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't studied the era and seen examples of the persuasive techniques such people used. Hobbes was right-Cheb would have been perfect in a calling like that.
"When do you go back to school?" Hobbes, she knew, was returning to Indiana University, one of the most prestigious non-Starfleet institutions in the country and one of the hardest to get into.
"In about a week. I'm finishing up an honors thesis I've been working on this summer."
"In what subject?" Kathryn realized that she'd known Hobbes since they were children, but had almost no idea of his interests, his studies, his hobbies. Did he still play tennis?
"Philosophy. That's my major field." He chuckled. "Probably not too thrilling to someone on the science track at Starfleet Academy."
"I've always enjoyed philosophy. It's just-not very active."
"Ah. Then you might enjoy reading Lat Nadeen, a twenty-second-century Bolian philosopher. Let's just say he's not one to sit in an ivory tower. I think you might be surprised by some of the things he advocates."
"Maybe I'll give it a try." An easy silence fell between them. Kathryn was surprised at how comfortable she felt with Hobbes. There were some positive aspects in being with a person in whom you had absolutely no romantic interest. They sat for a few moments, enjoying the late summer evening breeze.
"Did you know my dog died?" She hadn't intended even to mention this, but found the words on her lips nonetheless.
"No, I didn't. You had him for a long time, didn't you?" Kathryn felt her throat tighten. It was still hard to talk about. "Eleven years. But I thought he'd live a lot longer."
"I lost my first dog when I was six. I'm not sure I'm over it yet." Kathryn found herself relieved to hear him say this. She thought she should be able to handle Bramble's death better than she had. After all, he had died peacefully and in no pain, after a long dog's life. But coming as it did in the middle of this tumultuous summer it had been almost unbearable for her. "He was my best friend for years. He used to lick my tears when I cried." She stopped, feeling tears well even then. "I guess I'll just have to stop crying."
He reached out and gave her a little pat on the backperfunctory, brotherly, an odd little gesture that made her feel awkward rather than comforted, though she appreciated his bumbling effort. Another silence ensued, and then Hobbes decided to change the subject.
"What does your father have to say about the Cardassian situation?" His question dissolved her sense of comfort instantly. "He doesn't. He won't talk about it. I guess he must be under orders or something." She wondered if the bitterness in her voice came through. That question was answered when Hobbes offered, "Sounds like it's a touchy subject."
Kathryn took a breath. She didn't mean to leak her feelings, and she certainly didn't want to talk about it. But something about the August evening, the fragrant breeze, and Hobbes Johnson's gentle presence overcame her inhibitions, and she found herself opening up.
"Whatever's going on with Cardassia has taken a toll