Page 75 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
Many people are, she’s realised. The world seems hard, and harsh, a lot of the time, but she believes most people want to make it better for themselves and each other. They don’t always know the best way to do it – and sometimes they fumble in the trying – but most of the time they’re all trying to do their best. Just as she is. Just as Dennis is.
‘How have you been, Dennis?’ she says. It’s the first time she’s ever asked him. No wonder he looks surprised.
‘Fine.’ A big grin this time. ‘How are you?’
She wants to say ‘fine’ or ‘good’ or ‘well’ – they’re the default answers. But they’re not the truth, and at this particular moment she’s not interested in lies. Plus she doesn’t want him to think she only asked him how he is so he would ask her in turn.
‘That’s not much detail,’ she says instead. ‘How’s work going? Are you enjoying it here?’
He looks momentarily confused. ‘Um … yeah. Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because I’ve never asked you. It’s rude of me.’ She smiles weakly. ‘I was brought up to have better manners than that.’
Her parents weren’t warm-hearted when she was growing up, but they were well mannered; qualities which, she’s found, should never be confused for each other.
‘All right.’ He makes a funny face that she finds endearing. ‘Yeah. I like it here. The kids are mostly okay. A couple of them are good athletes. If I do my job right maybe they’ll get into state champs.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ she says, and means it. ‘I have to confess that I’ve never seen you teach so I don’t really know what you do.’
‘That’s okay. I was never good at English, so …’ He shrugs. ‘I don’t really get what you do either. But I’m not at school any more so I don’t have to.’
He shifts closer to her. A tiny bit. So tiny she may be misinterpreting it.
Then he turns to pluck the teabags from the mugs, puts sugar into one of them and stirs before he presents it to her. ‘Strong and black with one.’
‘Thank you.’ She takes a sip without thinking and burns her tongue, wincing.
‘That looked painful,’ he says, starting to laugh.
‘That doesn’t mean it’s funny!’ She winces again, then joins in his laughter.
‘It’s kind of funny,’ he says. ‘It’s basic chemistry or something that the tea was going to be too hot to drink.’
‘Which is why I’m not a science teacher,’ she says, putting the mug on the benchtop.
‘I reckon you could be. I reckon you could be anything you wanted to be.’ He says it so casually, as if it isn’t one of the kindest things anyone could say to a person.
There are few things more validating, Patricia believes, than being told you can do or be anything. Oh, it can have its disadvantages: there are some students whose parents should never have encouraged their darlings to believe such a thing because it means they think they don’t have to work. So she revises her thoughts: said to an adult, it’s a lovely compliment.
‘Thank you,’ she says, lowering her eyes briefly. When she lifts them again, it’s to see him gazing at her.
Patricia looks away first. She checks her watch – unnecessary, but a good prop for a person who wants to make a getaway. And she needs to get away because Dennis is making her uneasy in a way she hasn’t felt since she used to have intense crushes on boys in her teens, and that one time in her twenties on a man she would see on the bus to work. They never spoke, but she imagined a whole life with him.
‘I have to go,’ she says. ‘I have a few things to do before I make my parents’ dinner.’
He frowns. ‘What about your tea?’
‘Oh.’ She realises the flaw in her logic and laughs nervously to cover it. ‘Yes. I, uh, should have made it earlier.’
He puts his mug on the bench. ‘Are you trying to avoid me?’
She can hear disappointment, maybe even sadness, in the way he says it, but there’s no accusation there.
‘What?’ She laughs again, even though she’s not the laughing type. Not at school anyway, where she has a serious job and a serious persona to match. ‘No! Of course not. Why would I do that? I have no reason to avoid you.’
