stirred inside as she reminded herself:
This isn’t my father. And it isn’t my boyfriend.
As the crowning complication to her
life, Maria was still her father’s daughter and hadn’t
yet decided how she would finally deal with business and materialism.
Nor had she decided how to deal with her predictable, maybe even
boring boyfriend.
“Hey,” Dan said. “I
gotta go. But I did enjoy your company.” He nodded at the
door as she reached for the briefcase. “Maybe you should
go first.”
Dan followed her out of the pub concerned
about her decision to go alone to the bank, even though it was
only a couple blocks. The easy way she had with him, her passion
for everything, the trees, life, her work—it was attractive.
Watching her move briskly down the sidewalk, he found himself
wishing there was a way to prolong their contact. But reason prevailed,
and he walked to the right and she to the left, he fighting the
impulse to follow. It was a slow morning, the shops just preparing
for the onslaught of afternoon foot-traffic—traffic that
might not come on this noticeably quiet Saturday.
