'Mmmmmm.'
'Of what?'
'Of what we did a few minutes ago.'
'You know,' he said, 'you surprised me. You seem so proper and pure--almost angelic--but you've got a wonderfully bawdy streak in you.'
'I can be bawdy,' she admitted. 'Very bawdy.'
'You like my body?'
'It's a beautiful body.'
For a while, they talked mostly nonsense, lovers' talk, murmuring dreamily. They were so mellow that everything seemed amusing to them.
Then, still speaking softly, but with a more serious note in his voice, Tony said, 'You know, of course, I'm not ever going to let go of you.'
She sensed that he was prepared to make a commitment if he could determine that she was ready to do likewise. But that was the problem. She wasn't ready. She didn't know if she would ever be ready. She wanted him. Oh, Jesus, how she wanted him! She couldn't think of anything more exciting or rewarding than the two of them living together, enriching each other's lives with their separate talents and interests. But she dreaded the disappointment and pain that would come if he ever stopped wanting her. She had put all of those terrible years in Chicago with Earl and Emma behind her, but she could not so easily disregard the lessons she had learned in that tenement apartment so long ago. She was afraid of commitment.
Looking for a way to avoid the implied question in his statement, hoping to keep the conversation frivolous, she said, 'You're never going to let go of me?'
'Never.'
'Won't it be awkward for you, trying to do police work with me in hand?'
He looked into her eyes, trying to determine if she understood what he had said.
Nervously, she said, 'Don't hurry me, Tony. I need time. Just a little time.'
'Take all the time you want.'
'Right now I'm so happy that I just want to be silly. It's not the right time to be serious.'
'So I'll try to be silly.' he said.
'What shall we talk about?'
'I want to know all about you.'
'That sounds serious, not silly.'
'Tell you what. You be half-serious, and I'll be half-silly. We'll take turns at it.'
'All right. First question.'
'What's your favorite breakfast food?'
'Cornflakes,' she said.
'Your favorite lunch?'
'Cornflakes.'
'Your favorite dinner?'
'Cornflakes.'
'Wait a minute,' he said.
'What's wrong?'
'I figure you were serious about breakfast. But then you slipped in two silly responses in a row.'
'I love cornflakes.'
'Now you owe me two serious answers.'
'Shoot.'
'Where were you born?'
'Chicago.'
'Raised there?'
'Yes.'
'Parents?'
'I don't know who my parents are. I was hatched from an egg. A duck egg. It was a miracle. You must have read all about it. There's even a Catholic church in Chicago named after the event. Our Lady of the Duck Egg.'
'Very silly indeed.'
'Thank you.'
'Parents?' he asked again.
