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little community. Eighteen years of my life there was enough for me. Living in
a small town is a small life,” Tess said.
    “Your life is as big as
you make it,” Neal said.
    The things he said and
the way he said them, matter-of-factly, made her feel as if his words were riddles
to be solved. Standing beside him, she felt as if she were a different
Tess—nicer, quieter, more receptive. Tess couldn’t remember the last time she
had felt this way in the presence of another person.
    “Why are you here,
tonight?” Neal said.
    She patted her wavy locks
and brushed the dangling wisps off her face. She felt her jutting collarbones,
and smoothed her black sweater. Her belly protruded—slight and compact, like a
mini sack meant to hold her lipstick or a pack of tissues. After being bone skinny
all of her life, this little bulge comforted her now. Her clasped hands rested
on it.
    “I’m not really sure,”
Tess said. “I’d never come in here before tonight.”
    Neal rubbed the scapula
between his hands, as if a genie would come out of it.
    “Sometimes the things we
do are driven by a higher power.”
    Tess was not going to
entertain his holy thoughts. No, she had limits.
    “Why are you here
tonight?” she said.
    “I used to go to this
church,” Neal said. “I went to elementary school and junior high school here.”
Neal looked around. “They’ve redone it quite a bit. It’s beautiful now.”
    The narrow halls, the
glistening tiling, the high ceilings with etchings on them. The light was just
right—enough to seduce without overpowering the eyes.
    “Yes. It’s quite lovely,”
she said.
    The chiming church bells
startled Tess. They listened to the bells in silence as she followed him
outside.
    The night air was dry and
crisp, the temperature had dropped. Spring. Tess shivered. Under the vast sky,
she felt small.
    “Do you like your life?”
Neal said when the church bells grew silent.
    Tess laughed. “That’s
quite a question to ask a stranger.”
    Neal nodded and bowed his
head. There it was, that unexpected shyness.
    “I suppose I do,” she
said. “It’s the only life I’ve ever lived.”
    He smiled at her, his
eyes focused on hers, intent, full of what seemed to her curiosity, as if she
were some strange creature.
    “Would you change
anything?” he asked.
    “I wish there were more
hours in the day to get to all the things I’d like to get to,” she said. “But I
guess that everyone feels that way.”
    “I've lived a long time
by the rule that you need to find time in your day for solitude, companionship,
food, reading, silence, noise, sleep.”
    “Sounds like a 36-hour
day,” Tess said. 
    In the moonlight, Neal's
eyes were a deep navy-blue with glimpses of white that made her think of the
ocean from a plane window.
    “Look at all the stars,”
Tess said.
    “Make a wish,” Neal said.
    She couldn't remember the
last time that she had made a wish upon a star. She wished that she could keep
the feeling she felt now—peace, serenity—with her.
    She turned to smile at
him and had an instinct to hug him as if she hadn't seen him for a while. He
smiled back at her and she felt as if they were in something together.
    “I bid you, adieu, my new
friend. Goodnight and farewell. Don't worry, though, I won't sing you the song.”
    “The song?”
    “The one the children
sing in The Sound of Music. ”
    Neal shook his head.
    “The movie— The Sound
of Music.”
    “I never saw it.”
    “You have to. It’s a
beautiful movie,” Tess said.
    “And you have to find
time in your days to get to the things you wish to get to.”
    “Maybe in another life
time.” She made her way to her car.
    “Good night, Tess,” Neal
called to her
    “Good night,” Tess said
before she pulled her car door shut.
    In her rearview mirror,
she could see Neal mounting his bike and riding away, his jacket flapping in
the cool April breeze, so that he looked as if he was about to take flight.

Chapter 5: