He might’ve laughed at her strange little circular pacing if, again, the rut their lives were in was at all funny. Although it couldn’t be a rut, if she thought they were sliding backwards -
Well, yes, he could imagine what her mother thought, and though he did not know Mrs. Beauregard remarkably well, what he had heard of her and seen from a distance gave him the impression that she probably had a long-since perfected unimpressed face. One that he hoped never to have to meet.
(But see, that was a laughable thought in itself.)
And there they were again, sliding backwards. He shut his eyes for a moment as her fingers trailed across his cheek, and briefly rested his head against her arm, feeling her doubts exactly, but when he opened them again he pulled both of her hands into his, refusing to give in to this endless frustration.
“Nuh-uh,” he insisted, looking back at her with the best faux-solemn look he could muster. “We’re not going backwards,” Tyb proclaimed. “There’s no going backwards now, Elsie,” he warned. “We’re going full steam ahead and nothing less. I’ve already started paying Harvey and Owen to say great things about me whenever your mother’s in earshot,” he said, joking - but hey, idea - and continuing to roll with this absurd line of conversation all the same. “And I’ve already picked out a house for us. And because I already know you’re going to get so tired of seeing me all the time when we live there that your library room is going be a maze, Elsie, so you can go get lost in a book there and I’ll be far too dumb to find you.” He was being silly now, and he knew it, but if the future was as far enough off as it seemed, then it was safe, wasn’t it, to indulge in it just once, right?
Well, yes, he could imagine what her mother thought, and though he did not know Mrs. Beauregard remarkably well, what he had heard of her and seen from a distance gave him the impression that she probably had a long-since perfected unimpressed face. One that he hoped never to have to meet.
(But see, that was a laughable thought in itself.)
And there they were again, sliding backwards. He shut his eyes for a moment as her fingers trailed across his cheek, and briefly rested his head against her arm, feeling her doubts exactly, but when he opened them again he pulled both of her hands into his, refusing to give in to this endless frustration.
“Nuh-uh,” he insisted, looking back at her with the best faux-solemn look he could muster. “We’re not going backwards,” Tyb proclaimed. “There’s no going backwards now, Elsie,” he warned. “We’re going full steam ahead and nothing less. I’ve already started paying Harvey and Owen to say great things about me whenever your mother’s in earshot,” he said, joking - but hey, idea - and continuing to roll with this absurd line of conversation all the same. “And I’ve already picked out a house for us. And because I already know you’re going to get so tired of seeing me all the time when we live there that your library room is going be a maze, Elsie, so you can go get lost in a book there and I’ll be far too dumb to find you.” He was being silly now, and he knew it, but if the future was as far enough off as it seemed, then it was safe, wasn’t it, to indulge in it just once, right?
