Red Leaves. Paullina Simons

suspicious expression deepening. ‘Come on, have lunch with me,’ Jim said.

      ‘Can’t, Jimbo, sorry. Gotta do the work before Thanksgiving. Have way too much stuff to do.’

      Sighing, he said, ‘Oh, well, I’ll come with you to the office then. I’ve got some work to do there myself.’ Jim was the editor of the Dartmouth Review.

      ‘Oh, God!’ Kristina exclaimed. She was at the end of her rope. ‘Jim, please! I just need a couple of hours. I just need to think and sit, and just be alone to put together my thoughts. Okay?’

      He stopped walking, and she stopped with him but continued to walk in place.

      ‘Will I see you later?’ he said.

      ‘Jimbo,’ Kristina said, mustering a tone of tenderness. Mixed with her frustration and anxiety, his nickname came out quick and husky, caressed and spit out at the same time. She cleared her throat. ‘Jim, of course you will. We’re studying at four, remember? I’ve got basketball practice at two. I’ll see you, okay?’

      ‘Why don’t you just move in to Leede Arena?’ Jim said grumpily. ‘You’re always there.’

      ‘Jimmy, I have to go to practice. You know that. I didn’t become All-Ivy on talent alone.’ She grinned.

      ‘Is your work suffering?’ His tone was still sour.

      ‘Well, I’m not making Dean’s List this semester, if that’s what you’re asking.’

      He nodded, and then almost as an afterthought said, ‘You know, I looked everywhere for you last night. Everywhere.’

      She didn’t say anything, and he continued, ‘Even in the library stacks.’

      Reaching out, Kristina touched his face. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was at Red Leaves.’

      ‘I wish you would’ve. I couldn’t fall asleep till, like, one. Kept calling your room.’

      ‘One, huh?’ Kristina managed a smile. ‘That’s about two hours past your bedtime, isn’t it?’

      ‘Ha-ha,’ said Jim.

      ‘Gotta go, Jim,’ Kristina breathed out. ‘I’ll see you later.’

      He leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed him back and walked away, stepping up her pace until she was running. The laces on her torn Adidas were loose, and Kristina stopped for a second to tie them, dropping the backpack she was carrying. She ran from McNutt Hall to Collis Café before she noticed. She ran back, picked it up, and sprinted under the Dartmouth-green awnings of Main Street straight toward Peter Christian’s, the basement joint.

      Oh dear, here we go, Kristina thought, as she took three deep breaths and stepped inside the darkened restaurant.

      ‘Sorry I’m late,’ Kristina said, plopping herself down across from Howard, who smiled politely.

      ‘This is not too bad,’ he said, speaking precisely and slowly, looking at his watch. ‘It is only fifteen minutes.’ He put two sugars into her coffee and added some milk. As always Kristina thought it was strange and incongruous to hear him speak such perfect English. She leaned over to kiss him.

      ‘Why are you so wet?’ he asked, wiping his cheek.

      ‘We were playing basketball. I get all sweaty.’ She smiled, taking a napkin and running it over her face. Howard just looked at her.

      Kristina took a sip of coffee and grimaced. ‘The coffee is cold,’ she said, putting her cup down. She didn’t want Howard to see her fingers trembling.

      ‘You sound like you have a cold,’ he said.

      ‘Howard.’ Kristina was amused. ‘Are you making a play on words?’

      ‘Why are you surprised by that? I do have a sense of humor,’ he said seriously.

      ‘I know you do, Howard,’ said Kristina, gently patting his arm from across the wooden table. ‘I know you do.’

      ‘You do have a cold, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes, yes I do.’ She didn’t really, but she knew it was important to Howard to show concern.

      ‘Where is your coat? You are wearing shorts?’

      ‘Forgot my coat.’ She shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

      ‘You still do it.’

      ‘Do what?’

      ‘Refuse to dress properly for wintertime.’

      ‘I find it invigorating.’

      ‘Viruses, they can be very invigorating. Strep throat. Pneumonia.’

      ‘Never had any of those things,’ Kristina said. He was nagging at her, playing mother, but it was all right. ‘Always been healthy as an ox.’

      They waited to talk properly until after they ordered. Kristina wanted to order a salad with the delicious spicy mustard dressing, but it was her first meal of the day - the saltine crackers notwithstanding - and she didn’t want to be having mustard and vinegar for breakfast. She ordered carrot cake instead.

      She tried to will herself to be less nervous. But she was wired. Last night she hadn’t had much sleep. And this beautiful morning, she had been up at seven. The bare-treed Vermont hills had sparkled in the sunlight, but now there was only anxiety as she thought about an upset Jim and the patient Howard - solid and polite, looking out at her from his black-rimmed glasses, with his gentle, unsmiling eyes.

      ‘How’ve you been?’ she asked, trying to calm down.

      ‘Good, Kristina, things are quite good. Busy.’

      ‘Well, busy is good,’ she said. He didn’t reply. ‘Isn’t it? Busy, it’s very good. You must be so… pleased… that you’re, you know, busy.’ She knew she was rambling. God! ‘Many interesting cases?’

      He considered her for a moment. ‘How interesting can corporate law be? So let’s see these papers, Kristina.’

      Kristina nervously took the manila envelope out of her backpack. Passing it to him, she said, ‘Everything looks okay.’

      Howard paused before opening it. ‘Is everything okay? I am not so sure.’

      Kristina chose to misunderstand him. ‘No, really. Everything is letter-perfect.’

      With a glance through the documents, Howard laid them aside. ‘We never got a chance to speak about this. Has something happened?’

      Something had happened. Kristina’s grandmother had died. But Howard didn’t know that. Nor would he.

      ‘I just think it’s for the best, that’s all,’ Kristina said, playing with her fork. She tasted the cream cheese icing of the carrot cake. It was good, but she just wasn’t hungry anymore.

      ‘Is it really for the best?’

      ‘Sure. Of course.’

      ‘Why? Why all of a sudden did you want a divorce?’

      He was wearing a suit, and he looked so nice and familiar a pang of sadness hit her. She thought, does this mean I’m not going to see him again? I’m so used to knowing he’s there.

      Shrugging, Kristina put down her fork. The coffee was cold, the cake was cheesy, and her stomach was empty. ‘It wasn’t all of a sudden. I thought it was time.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Howard, because I’m turning twenty-one, because I want to get on with my life. I mean, what if I want to marry someone?’ She paused. ‘What if you want to marry someone?’

      ‘Is there someone you want to marry, Kristina?’

      ‘Not yet. But who knows?’ She smiled. ‘Mr Right might be just