Though I prefer a car one can get into and out of with ease and style, I made “I’m impressed” noises, knowing men like cars for different reasons than women do. Dinner was fine. Stanley talked mostly about his only real interest, himself. I learned the basics of limestone quarrying, software pirating, and employee shortcomings in the first half hour. As we ate, we sipped drinks, wine for me, Crown Royal for him. He easily outdid me in quantity with no apparent effect. His hand remained steady, his words clear. When I thought he was warmed up enough, I brought the conversation around to our personal tragedies. “You certainly stay busy,” I said, adding with what I hoped was charming honesty, “I do, too, so I don’t think about the past too much.” He chose to focus on my tragedy. “Tough break, losing your husband so young.” “It was. Of course, having the children helped. You didn’t have that comfort.”
