“Would you have gone if you knew?”
The same question Denise had asked.
This time, the answer came more easily.
“I might have.”
He looked down.
“Then your life would be different.”
“Yes.”
“I might be different.”
“Yes.”
He stared at his hands.
I reached across and took them.
“Different is not automatically better.”
He looked up.
“You don’t know what would have happened.”
“Neither do you.”
That stopped him.
“You like unknown variables,” I said. “Try respecting this one.”
A reluctant smile appeared.
“That’s unfair.”
“Why?”
“You used my own reasoning against me.”
“I raised you. I know your weaknesses.”
He leaned against my shoulder.
After a moment, he whispered, “Would you go now?”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“To school.”
I laughed softly.
“I have a job.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Of course it wasn’t.
I looked at the old college letter.
The paper represented a door that had closed.
