Page 28 of No Kind of Hero
He considered that. “When it sucks your soul?”
She laughed. “Well, there’s that. And by the way, I had an idea for in here. Another idea.”
“Shoot.” He kept painting, even though this bathroom was taking way too long. You could say he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.
“I was thinking that each stall could be its own little world.”
“Uh . . .” He gave her some side-eye. “How long are you picturing somebody staying in there?”
She sighed. “Evan. Have you timed women in the restroom? When there isn’t a line, so you feel like you need to hurry up and free up the stall? Men just go in there, pee at the urinal, zip up, and leave. A woman isinthere. She flushes, and then she fixes her clothes, and then she goes out by the sink and fixes them some more. Plus makeup.”
“I’m taking your word for it.” Beth was right. She wasn’t fantastic at the romantically mysterious woman-thing. Too bad he liked that about her.
“So anyway,” she said, “you could have your favorite stall.”
“OK. You’re losing me in the weeds.”
She waved her roller again, seeming to forget what had happened last time. “The Zodiac. You paint the constellation, and you have somebody paint in the description.”
He wanted to love her idea. “Uh . . .”
“You have twelve stalls to work with. It’s perfect. Painted on that marble background you talked about, on a sort of scroll.”
“What’spainted?”
“Well, all right. Take me.”
“I would, but we’re painting.”
“Ha ha. Pay attention. You write ‘Virgo’ at the top, with the dates, in black paint with a fine brush or even a Sharpie, and then in the scroll, you put something like, ‘Your tender heart shields its secrets from all but the lucky few. Nature reminds you to play, and animals remind you to love.’ Like that. All positives.”
“And you just made that up.”
“Well, no. Obviously it’s what they say about the sign. I just made it more poetic.”
“But you don’t believe in astrology.”
“You don’t have to believe in it toknowit. Everybody knows what their sign’s supposed to be about.”
“I don’t.”
“Sure you do. You’re Taurus. And—oh. ‘Love Signs.’ That should be on there too. Like for Virgo, you put, “Determined, loyal Taurus has the patience to set shy Virgo free.’”
Well, yeah.Thatwas true. “Is that so,” he said. “I like the sound of that. But youdidmake that up.”
“No. I may have, uh . . . looked it up, once upon a time. In between work, you know.”
“Uh-huh. When you weren’t being responsible and hardworking and were thinking about being set free instead. So if you’re not making it up, do me.”
“See? You’re interested. You can’t help it, even though you don’t believe in it. All right.” She wasn’t even pretending to paint now. She looked into the distance, frowned a little, and said, “Your steady, reliable nature reassures everyone around you. You hold tight to those you love, while working with your hands keeps you centered.”
“You did make that up. That can’t be my . . . whatever. Sign.”
She was looking smug now. “Except it is. And your ‘Love Signs’ says, ‘A Virgo mate demands all your patience and concentration, but her sighs and trust are your reward.’ Except that’s too long.”
“And except that it’s supposed to be for a woman,” he managed to say. Because, damn. That part was true for sure, at least the way he remembered it, and he wanted to use all his patience and concentration again. Starting now.
“Oh. Right.” She finally started to paint again. “Forget the Love Signs part. Otherwise, half the ladies will be coming out of the restroom looking for a new man. We’re going for a romantic evening here, not Breakup Central when their guy’s a . . . a Gemini, or something equally horrible that thinks ‘shy Virgo’ is boring. I’ve been on that date.”
