Page 21 of An Impossible Love
Chapter Ten
“Beef or chicken?”
“Beef,” both Emmy and Tim said at the same time and laughed. Tim touched his beer to Emmy’s.
“Great minds.”
The waitress smiled at them both and moved away from the table. They sat outside; it was an unseasonably warm day in DC, and Emmy smiled at her new friend. The restaurant, a Tex-Mex place, had been one of Emmy and Zach’s favorites, but she hadn’t been there for a year or two and was quite glad the entire staff was different, so no awkward questions were asked about Tim’s resemblance to Zach.
And it was quite extraordinary. Emmy wondered if she should really be spending so much time with Tim because of it. After that first meeting, Emmy had called Tim to apologize for having to run out on him, but Tim had brushed her apology aside. “Hey, listen, I understand. But I’d like to see you again. Maybe talk some more?”
Emmy had readily agreed, and they’d spent time together on a couple of Emmy’s off days. Tim was funny, erudite, and sweet, and although it was painful to be with someone who reminded her of Zach, of what could have been, Emmy also found his presence a balm—and a distraction from her turmoil over Orin Bennett.
“So,” Tim said now, "how does one spend time in this city? I’ve done the McNuggets tour.
Emmy grinned. “The McNuggets?”
“You know, five minutes in the National Archive followed by Apollo 11 and the Hope Diamond.”
“Oh, dear God, man, you are a philistine,” Emmy pretended to be disapproving. “I’m just going to have to educate you. Want a tour of the White House?”
“I thought they’d stopped that.”
“They stopped the tours of the West Wing after 9/11, but I can get you in. You’ll have to be cleared by my boss, of course, so any dark secrets of yours, tell me now.”
Tim pondered. “Well, I did tip cows in high school.”
“Who didn’t?”
He appraised her slight frame. “Can’t see it.”
“You doubt my cow tipping skills?” Emmy was enjoying teasing him; even after this short time, it felt like they had known each other forever. “Fool.”
Tim grinned widely, swigging his beer, and as the server arrived with sizzling plates of fajitas, they both groaned with pleasure at the scent of the food.
“I usually don’t eat fajitas in public,” Emmy admitted, “because I always,alwaysmanage to spread the guac all over my face.”
Tim immediately stuck his finger in his guacamole and wiped it on his nose. “There. Now you can spread away.”
Emmy choked on her food she was laughing so much. “You loon. Listen, later on, Marge and I are going to see our dog at the shelter. Want to come?”
“Try to stop me,” Tim looked excited. “I love dogs. And any excuse to spend more time with Marge.”
Tim had been a huge hit with the older woman, who swapped up her Coca-Cola habit for aSam Adamsin Tim’s company. Tim flirted up a storm with Marge, who cackled in delight every time Tim made a near-the-knuckle remark. Marge had nodded at Emmy one night after Tim had said goodnight. “Sweet boy, that.”
Emmy rolled her eyes. “Boy? He’s in his late thirties, Moo.”
“Still. You could do a lot worse.”
Her words had made Emmy feel a little uncomfortable, but now, sitting with Tim, she understood why Marge would say it. Tim was so easy to be with, no hidden agenda, no guile—although he was clearly a very intelligent man. He had told her that his desire to go to Australia had precluded his going to college, but that after a while as he grew older, he began to teach himself: reading endlessly, taking courses, just being inquisitive about the world.
“They say education is wasted on the young,” he said now as they chatted about what he’d learned, “and it’s true. There’s so much to know, Emmy.” He studied her. “You went to Harvard, I hear?”
Emmy nodded. “On a scholarship. I’d aced my bachelor’s degree at college in New Orleans, but my tutor insisted on me pursuing my master’s. She arranged the scholarship for me. I went to Harvard and was recruited from there.”
“What did you study?”
“Criminal psychology.”
