Di Angelo 2

Angelo approached the dinner table with a broad smile on his face, satisfied that he had just finished a productive session at the computer. The words had flowed forth and, when the bell rang to announce break time, he was at just the right point to put things away.

Linda, his wife of 26 years, walked from the kitchen carrying  small plates of pork chops in one hand and yellow squash in the other. It was their  attempt at eating healthier, and it seemed to be working.  

Angelo pulled her chair from the table and motioned for her to sit, then poured the Merlot and took his seat.

“Are you studying chivalry in class, too?” she asked, teasingly. 

“No. It was a spontaneous move. You were there, I was there, Seemed like the thing to do.”

“Well, keep it up. I like it.”

Angelo raised his glass. “To us, and to retirement. Four more years.”

“To us.” she echoed, a lilt in her voice. 

Linda looked intently at her husband, sitting some six feet away, far enough for her to take in his physical wholeness. She felt a sensation of his strength even at a distance. 

“That writing class has changed our lives. You are not the man I married.”

Angelo absorbed the words, letting the meaning settle into him. “I think you’re right, And, yeah, this class has made a big change. Louisa has us all digging deeper into ourselves than we ever have. I never thought I’d see grown men tear up. but in this class they do. We’re finding more about ourselves than we ever knew existed.”

He cut his pork chop and began his meal, savoring the flavor and analyzing the texture of the meat. Where once he would have downed his meals in short order, these days he found himself intentionally enjoying them. He sipped his wine now, letting it sit for a moment on his palate. Life was indeed different now. Better.

“Louisa gave us a piece to read the other night, by Nietzsche. He wrote, ‘We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge - and with good reason. We have never sought ourselves - how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves? It has rightly been said: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also"; our treasure is where the beehives of our knowledge are.””’

Smiling softly, he let the words sink in. 

“My treasure is with you.”

He looked into Linda’s eyes and said no more. She returned the look and moisture filled her eyes. “You really aren’t the man I married. You’re so much more now. I don’t recognize you but I love you so that my body quivers.”

They sat quietly for a while, as the food cooled on their plates.

                               ------------------

Memories of the night lingered with him as he sat in the squad car, John Mercer at the wheel. In moves that had seemingly been scripted, Linda and Angelo left their meals, stood to meet each other along side the table and kissed, softly and with passion like their first days together. The plates remained until she removed them in the morning, largely untouched.

“A penny for your thoughts,” John said to stir his partner. You in there?

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Angelo quietly returned to live in the moment. 

“Linda and I started our meal last night but we left it for other things. John, I’ve got to tell you, life is getting better.”

“I’m happy for you. To tell you the truth, whatever’s going on in your life, we all see it. You’re a different man. Better.”

“Linda said the same thing last night. And, she cried when she said it. Louisa. She’s changing us all.”

“That’s all I hear anymore, Louisa, Louisa. She cast spells on all her men?

“And the women, too. Some of them aren’t women, really. They’re girls. They’re in their twenties, and what this class is doing for them is growing them a whole lot different than we grew girls when I was twenty. She’s teaching them to think deeper. She’s making strong, capable, confident women.”

“And the guys? How many are boys?”

“None in this class. There are no twenty something men in the class. Their all old like me, in their forties or better. For some of them, this is painful.”

“If it’s painful, why do they stay with it?”

“Because they’re discovering so much about themselves that they can’t leave. It’s painful because they’re raising questions about their lives. They’re saying, ‘I didn’t know this or that. If I had known, things would have been different. So many regrets. So much to do over, and wrongs to make right.”

“And you, any regrets?”

“Buckets full. But, hey! I’m young! We’re healthy. We’ve got time.”

“Wow. where do I sign?”

“You should do this, too. Come to a class with me.”

“I’ll think about it. I worry it might take the edge off my game. You need edge to be in this game. A cop always needs edge.”

Angelo’s head tossed back slightly as John’s words penetrated his head. He knew exactly what John meant. It was something he feared, especially now that he was changing. He turned toward John and studied his face.

“Am I losing my edge,  John?”

John kept his eyes on the road , saying nothing. His eyes blinked with increased frequency as if flipping through photos or watching video.

“No, I don’t think you've lost your edge. In fact, I know you haven't. You just shot a guy to protect me. There was no second guessing there. You saw your duty and you did it. So, I’d say you still got it.”

John pulled the car into a parking spot at Genlott’s Diner. Turning the car off, they sat quietly in the cruiser for some time. John was the first to exit the vehicle. As he stood, left arm draped over the door, he looked over the roof of the car at Angelo. “I think what’s different is the ‘how’.” 

They shut their doors and headed to the diner. As they entered, John looked quizzically at Angelo. “Beethoven. Really?”