Knitting Under the Influence

“I like using the term, because it sounds so scientific, but it basically just means that the brain's flexible.” She put her cup down. “People get brain damage from things like strokes and car accidents and since the brain can't heal, you'd think that whatever function they lose would stay lost, right? But a lot of the time, they get it back. Like if they can't talk right after a stroke, but they do a lot of speech therapy, they'll usually be able to learn to talk again.”

“True for my grandmother. She had a stroke and couldn't talk and then talked again. Happy ending. Until she had another stroke and died.”

“I’m sorry,” Sari said.

“Actually, she was an awful grandmother,” he said. “Really mean. She scared the hell out of me when I was little-every time I saw her, she would tell me I should be ashamed of myself, but she would never tell me why. Maybe she just figured adolescent boys always had something to be ashamed of.” He made a comical face. “Not that she was wrong about that.”

“Well, anyway, she's a perfect example-her brain didn't heal exactly, it's just that other parts of her brain stepped in and took over for the injured part.”

“I believe the term you're looking for is neural plasticity,” he said.

“You catch on fast. So we think-it's still just a theory, but I believe it-that it works the same way for kids with autism. They start off with some real neurological damage, but with enough therapy their brains lay down new pathways, and the undamaged part takes over at least some of what the damaged part was supposed to do.”

“Now that's just cool.”

“I know,” Sari said. “It really is. Here's to the human brain.” They both raised their sake cups and drank.

“Makes you wonder whether it could work for the rest of us,” Jason said as he placed his cup back on the table. “I mean, maybe if I can find a therapist to just keep telling my dad that I’m not the loser he thinks I am, he'd lay down some new pathways and start seeing me in a whole new way. What do you think?”

“I think you'll need forty hours a week to start,” she said. “It won't be cheap.”

“Too bad I really am the loser he thinks I am,” Jason said. “Or I’d be able to afford it.”

“But then you wouldn't need it.”

“I know. It's all so confusing.”

The waitress came and asked if they wanted more sake. They had finished their food a while ago. “I guess we're done,” Jason said. “Unless you want some coffee?” He looked at Sari hopefully.

She hesitated. Then she said, “It's getting late.”

She had left her car at the house, so Jason drove them both back.

“Want to come in?” Jason asked as they got out of the car. “Zack's probably in bed, but you could see how cute he looks when he's asleep.” When she didn't answer right away, he said, “He's like world-class adorable.”

She closed the car door. “I believe you. But I should go.”

“Do you have to?”

She just nodded and headed down the driveway to the street where her car was parked. He followed close behind.

At her car, she said, “Good night. Thanks for-”

He cut her off with an abrupt hand gesture. “So, I’m wondering… how are you going to be when I see you tomorrow? Like this? Friendly and maybe a little interested? Or are you going to be the other Sari? The one who looks at me like I’m some kind of scary nut for just smiling at her?”

“I’ve never looked at you like that,” she said.

“Yeah, you have.” He reached for her hand and she let him take it. He held it lightly, his thumb brushing against the back of her fingers. “I’m not usually the kind of guy who slams his head against a wall over and over again,” he said. “But I was married for a while and I haven't dated anyone in all that time, so maybe the rules are different now. I like you, Sari. A lot. And sometimes it seems like you like me back. But sometimes-”

“I do like you,” she said, trying to sound calm. She didn't feel calm. He was standing too close for her to feel calm, and the way his fingers were playing with hers wasn't helping. “But I think it should stop here.”

“Is there a clinic rule I don't know about? Is this kind of thing frowned on?”

“It's not that,” she said.

“What is it, then?”

“Charlie,” she said.

He dropped her hand. “Who the hell is Charlie? Your boyfriend?”

Sari opened her mouth and heard a strange choking sound that she realized was a laugh. Her laugh. But it seemed wrong to be laughing when Jason was being serious, so she tried to stop, and the effort to suppress it made her shake. She put her hand to her mouth to try to push the laughter back in.

And she realized it wasn't amusement. It was hysteria.

“What's so funny?” he said.

She shook her head, gasping a little. “Nothing.”

“Who's Charlie?” he asked again. Impatient now. Getting annoyed. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” she said, and dropped her hand from her mouth, the hysteria gone as suddenly as it had come. “I don't have a boyfriend.”

“Husband?”

“No.”

“Lesbian lover?”

She shook her head.

“Now we're getting somewhere,” Jason said and drew closer. “No rules, no other man, no other woman… Is there any good reason I shouldn't do what I want to do? What I’ve been dreaming about doing for weeks?”

The little Lucy devil on her shoulder said, “Lead him on and break him apart.” The responsibly dressed Ellen angel said, “Get out of there while you're still okay, Sari.” And the girl in between them just wanted to feel Jason's mouth on hers and his hands on her body, so she didn't say or do anything, just waited in the cool dark of the night, her face turned up to him.

She had answered his question with her silence and her willingness. He smiled and his arms came around her.

His mouth tasted a little like alcohol, but it didn't change how good it felt. She closed her eyes and let him pull her close, like she had always wanted him to.

His whole body pressed into hers. Sari pressed back, shivering. He was Jason Smith and she had wanted him since she was fifteen years old. She could get lost in him-was getting lost in him-in his strong chest and broad shoulders, in the feel of his hands on her back, pinning her against him so she could feel the length of his body and how he was already hard for her. She was going to get lost in it, she wanted to get lost in it, she was ready to get lost in it…

If this had all happened in a dark, private room, that probably would have been that, and she would have fallen into bed with him and postponed all regrets and confusion to the next day's tab. But they were outside, and the sudden headlights of a car driving by made them both start and pull back and look around, their pupils dilated from more than just the dark.

“Come inside,” he said, tugging on her arm.

But she shook her head. She had been given a chance to stop and think about what she was doing. She would be an idiot not to take it. “I’d better not. It's better to take this slowly.”

“You sure about that?” Jason said, his voice not sounding like itself.

“Yeah.”

“I don't want to scare you off. But-” He took a deep breath, then said, “ ‘Slowly’ isn't another way of saying you're going to pretend you've never seen me before when I walk into the clinic tomorrow, is it?”

She shook her head again. “I’m not that good an actress.”

“Good,” he said. “So you meant all that?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, not quite able to look at him. “But I still have to go.”

His fingers stroked her arm. “Really? You have to?”

She found she was leaning in toward him again. She righted herself with an effort. “I just think it's a good