But she didn’t.
“Sorry, I—I just never had a chance to ask . . .”
“ ‘How does it feel to kill somebody?’ ” Matt furnished, not very pleasantly.
She nodded.
“I’m sorry, Matt.”
Why don’t you ask your pal Chenowith? Wouldn’t you say that blowing up eleven innocent people would make him more of an expert?
Jesus, she didn’t! She has never talked to Chenowith about what he did! How do I know that? I don’t know how I know, but I know.
“What was it? Feminine curiosity?” Matt asked.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Like I said, have another cracker,” Matt said, and made her another one.
She took it, put it in her mouth and added wine, and chewed. And smiled.
“That is good.”
“I’m surprised your father doesn’t do it. He takes his food seriously.”
“What you really said was ‘Go home, Susan,’ ” she said.
“I can’t believe I said something like that,” Matt said. “Not when we still have half a bottle of wine and two pounds of cheese.”
She smiled.
“I’m sorry I said that,” Matt said. “I apologize. I really don’t want you to go home.”
“I’m going to have to. I have to go to work tomorrow. And so do you.”
“Have another cracker,” he said, and made her another one.
She took it.
“I learned something about you tonight I didn’t know,” she said. “That may have had something to do with my uncontrolled curiosity.”
“Like what?”
Susan looked into his eyes. “I never connected you with Penny before,” she said.
“I don’t recall mentioning Penny,” Matt said. “Oh, that’s right. You’re another product of Bennington, aren’t you?”
“We were friends,” Susan said.
“How did you come to connect me with Penny?”
“This is awkward,” Susan said.
“Go ahead. If we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we should have no secrets from each other.”
She smiled at him again.
“Oddly enough, I seem to like you better when you’re playing the fool,” she said.