Political Science 101

Chapter Seventeen

TONIGHT, ANA didn't seem like her normal cheerful self. But Mitch had grown weary of asking if she was okay, partly because he was tired of asking, but mostly because he didn't want to annoy her with the repeated question. Regardless, their dinner at her favorite Italian restaurant was going well as they both enjoyed each other's company over pasta, bread sticks, and fine wine.

Mitch was careful not to be caught staring, but he just couldn't get over how he had somehow been dating this beautiful 24-year-old woman for the past six months. He watched as she gently chewed her food and sipped her wine, shining her beautiful smile whenever he said something funny. Her slim black evening dress seemed to gently hug her slim body and the hue of the thin black straps over her shoulders provided a perfectly gentle contrast of color with her delicate pale skin. Everything about her seemed to present itself in perfect balance; she was neither fastidious nor affable, neither expressive nor tepid, neither angel nor demon. Yes, Mitch was certainly falling for Ana because he knew just enough about her to keep her mystifying, yet mysterious.

In the beginning of their relationship, Mitch wondered what Ana could possibly see in him; a man over a decade older than she, but this query was shortly answered. Ana was not only youthful, attractive, and cheerful, but she was also exceptionally intelligent, a wonderful conversationalist, and loved to talk politics. Their lively conversations (often fueled by copious amounts of wine and spirits) would seemingly carry on for hours as they discussed their own viewpoints and opinions, finding that with every lively discussion or debate, they only seemed to have more and more in common.

But there was one particular detail of their relationship that was often at the forefront of his mind. After dating for six months, Ana and Mitch had not yet slept together. In previous relationships, sex was often a driving point and much (of not most) of the intimacy in his previous relationships was physical (rather than emotion or even verbal). But somehow, with Ana, it was different.

After the death of his first wife, Marie, Mitch fell into a deep depression of his own, lasting nearly three years. When he finally came to grips with Marie's loss, he found himself cycling through relationships at an alarming rate. As a post-graduate student working on his second Ph.D., he flaunted himself as the rugged genius with a dark side and women seemed to gravitate toward him. But as he womanized his way through grad school, displaying his neo-Will Hunting facade, he noticed (but didn't seem to care) that his numerous relationships could only be oxymoronically described as "empty fulfillment."

Indeed, as he subtly gazed across the table, he knew Ana was different. And somehow, he was different as well. Even after his multitude of relationships in grad school and subsequently all-but giving up on finding a woman after his wife died, Mitch looked at Ana with a keen sense of emotional optimism, wondering if she mirrored his thoughts and feelings.

"You know," Mitch said, hurrying to swallow his food, trying not to be rude, "you've never talked about your family."

"Oh, there's really not much to tell," she said quickly. "I'm only close to my Aunt—" she stopped short of completing her sentence, allowing her silence to indicate the completion of her statement. A look sprang into her eyes, as though she'd revealed some sort of trade secret.

"Yeah?" Mitch replied, breaking the brief awkward silence. He expected her to continue, but she instead looked down into the scarlet wine in her glass. "Well," Mitch continued, "what about your parents?" Intrinsically, Mitch cringed a little, hoping he hadn't mentioned a sore subject.

Ana stared into a momentary oblivion, then seemed to snap out of it. "Oh, they're  — we're fine. They live in Dallas." All of a sudden, Ana was Ana again. "I grew up in Plano," she chatted on, "right outside of Dallas. So, I mean, my parents technically lived in Plano, but I just say Dallas."

"Yeah," Mitch said, "You've told me you were from Dallas." He could tell that she was subtly deflecting, but chose not to pursue it. "I take it Texas Democrats are a rare breed, like Missouri Democrats." Mitch meant it to be a humorous question, but it came out sounding a bit more like an anti-Texas and anti-Missouri accusation.

Ana smiled, uncomfortably.

Mitch decided it was time to change the subject.