Mar 05 2009
Lady in waiting
I am waiting for her. This is a peculiar situation, because she is better at waiting than I am, and yet it is my turn to test my skills. This is a business trip for one of us, and a pleasure trip for both. I have never played so much on the verge of risk…or I did, once, when I sneaked into a colleague’s bedroom in the middle of the night, losing the rest of my workmates until dawn came to call.
This time it is more open than that, because she is staying with me in the same room. This time it is not about risk, but about trust. Congress attendees suddenly inspire no fears about how wise it actually is to indulge in this when almost everyone is accompanied by their wives, and those who are not sometimes just walk a thin line between gallantry and the exciting possibility of a one-night stand.
Still, oblivious to the world outside this room in a tiny and dream-like Guanajuato, I am waiting for her. I am trying not to anticipate, for I know that some scripts go wrong when only one actor is rehearsing them. Even though she seems resilient to pre-conceived stories that go amiss, this woman with “no expectations” still carries a veil that suggests to me she should be treated with care. As in a Henry James vignette, even when she shows more than she tells, she does so imperceptibly.
I like her more than I would have ever imagined. She gives me calm, and lets my own little freak side go out to play and quote movies that nobody saw to make a minor point about something. She knows about my stationery fetish, and puts up with the fussy psychologist that resides somewhere in me and needs to find a logic behind almost everything. Because she knows me more than she has, or because she thinks so, and I concur, I am now waiting for her. She has earned my trust and she is slowly winning my heart.
