Perfect Fifths_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [65]
“Is it cashmere? It is, isn’t it? And not some cheapo Wal-Mart nineteen-ninety-nine cashmere, either. That’s, like, shorn from the underbelly of embryonic Mongolian lambs.”
“I really don’t know.”
“Where does one get a sweater like that?”
[Pause.]
“I know what you’re doing, Jessica.”
“You do?”
“You’re changing the subject for my benefit.”
“I am?”
“Sure you are. There’s something about your story that could hurt my feelings, but you didn’t realize it until you were already in the middle of it.”
“Uh …”
“I appreciate the gesture. I do. And I’ll gladly let you change the subject if you think it will be so damaging to my psyche.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“However, your change of subject is sort of… dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“Because the story of the sweater is related to the story of the watch.”
“It is?”
“Of course it is, don’t act so surprised. You’re a woman. You were following a hunch. You’re curious, and yet you realize that these are stories you may not want to hear.”
“I bet those stories overlap the story of how you learned to drink.”
“Socially and in moderation.”
“And, of course, the already legendary story of The Beard, or rather, the shaving of The Beard.”
“And the more incidental shaving of the dreads, yes.”
“What about your glasses?”
“The glasses?”
“Are they part of any of these stories?”
“No, they have nothing to do with the sweater or the watch or anything else. I was getting horrible headaches. I thought it was stress. Or from reading too much. It turned out that I was nearsighted.”
“I like them. The glasses. They suit you. Your face.”
“Well, thank you. I … oh …”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“‘Never have I met someone for whom nothing so obviously meant something.’”
“Touché, Jessica.”
“So?”
“Okay. [Throat clearing.] I was thinking how I wish you, too, were wearing a new pair of glasses.”
“Why?”
“So I could say they suited your face. So I could pay a compliment to your appearance in a way that wouldn’t embarrass you. And I can see by the flush on your cheeks that I’ve embarrassed you anyway.”
[Pause.]
“Thank you, Marcus.”
“You’re welcome.”
[Pause.]
“I have no idea what I was talking about, because you so graciously let me change the subject.”
“For now.”
“We’ll… uh… see … about that.”
“If you wanted me to tell my story first, why didn’t you just say ‘Hey, Marcus, go first.’”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was less hesitant to tell my story than I was to hear your story.”
“And now?”
“And now I’ve changed my mind.”
“Fair enough. So you want to hear it?”
“I think I do.”
“Do you or don’t you?”
“Well, after all this buildup, I most certainly do.”
“Even if it might… I don’t know … Make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll tell you. [Deep breath.] The story goes like this. A man receives a cashmere sweater and a watch that doesn’t tell time from an ex … er … ex.”
“An ex, er, ex?”
“‘Girlfriend’ isn’t quite right.”
“Lady friend? Or is that too silver fox? How about ‘lovah’?”
“Ah, love, Jessica, had very little to do with it.”
“I see.”
“This ex also encouraged the man to trim his beard and dreads but not cut them off completely.”
“I see.”
“And he did.”
“I see.”
“With her, the man learned to drink socially and in moderation. Then they … then it … ended. And he shaved off the beard and the dreads down to the skin. He still wears the sweater because it’s a warm sweater and it’s cold outside. But the watch—he wears the watch … He wears the watch as a reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Her.”
“Oh. I see.”
“And … er … [Throat clearing.] That’s the story.”
[Pause.]
“Marcus?”
“Yes, Jessica?”
“I’m sorry, but that story sucked.”
“I know it did. There was one really excellent part about it, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Your apology! Pay up!”
“Damn. Now we’re even.”
“Yes, I suppose we are.”
[Pause.]
“What time do you have to be at the gate?”
“According to my cell phone, I should probably start heading over there any minute now. I guess we’ve run out of time. We’ll never get the full, uncensored versions of each other’s stories.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind if those stories go unfinished right now.”