Mr. Malen was honest about how awkward he was when first courting Mrs. Malen, and whenever he tried to brag, she gently brought him back to “the way it really was.” We were all laughing before we left, and on our way out, they both gave me a hug. Mrs. Malen hugged Troy. He didn’t retreat from her affection. From the very little he had told me about his own family and home, I didn’t imagine him getting many hugs like this one there.
“Come again,” she said. “We’re thinking of getting some pistachio ice cream. Mainly because George likes it.”
“I love pistachio,” I said.
“I knew you found the right girl to bring here,” Mr. Malen told Troy. “About time.”
Troy reddened a bit again, nodded, reached for my hand tentatively but held it tightly when I clasped his, and opened the door for me.
“That was fun,” I said. “Of course, I’ll have to walk ten miles to work off the calories.”
“Thanks for going there with me. I know it’s not exactly what you anticipated.”
“No, it was fun. I really mean it.”
He searched my face for sincerity and opened the car door for me. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing your girlfriends would agree to do on a Friday night,” he said as he got in.
“Stop apologizing. I enjoyed it, and I don’t look to them for social guidance,” I said.
“Who do you look to?”
Once, I thought, what seemed long ago now, I had looked to my twin sister, who was far more sophisticated than I was. Despite everything, that answer was still lined up ahead of anything else in my mind and ready to be spoken. But even suggesting it would crack open the dam that held all the horror I had endured. It would come rushing in and surely kill this budding relationship between Troy and me. Maybe for that reason more than any other, I slammed the door shut on even a hint of
it. The sad thing I knew in my heart was that no relationship could flourish on a ground of lies and deceptions. Nothing could come of this. I was teasing myself and probably him.
“Myself,” I replied.
I knew he wanted to talk more about himself and learn more about me, but I was too frightened to ask any more questions. Twice he tried to initiate a conversation about families, relatives, our early lives, but I didn’t say much of anything. We were both silent all the way back. I was sure he was wondering if he had made a mistake asking me to take a drive.
After we parked and got out of the car, I realized it had gotten even colder. I hugged myself again, not looking forward to the long walk to my dorm.
“You’re really cold,” he said. “I guess you weren’t planning on doing much tonight.”
“No, but I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not.” He took off his jacket. “Wear this. I’ll walk you back.”
“But won’t you be cold?” I asked as I put on his jacket.
“I’ll risk it, but let’s move.”
He reached for my hand. Then he started to jog. I laughed and kept up with him.
“Feels like it might snow tonight,” I said.
“When it does, keep track of when the first flake hits your face. That’s a lucky moment.”
“Who told you that?”
“No one. I made it up.”
There wasn’t anyone outside my dorm when we arrived. We both shot into the entry and caught our breath in the pool of warmth. His face was red, and mine felt on fire, but in a good way.
“Got rid of some of those calories,” he said.
I took off his jacket and handed it to him. “Thanks. Thanks for the sundae, too. I haven’t gone for ice cream anywhere for a long time, probably not since I was a little girl. Now it’s usually a cone of custard or frozen yogurt at the mall. And I don’t do that often, either.”
“Yeah, we grow up too fast these days. That’s what George says. I mean Mr. Malen.”