Christine Rimmer - Cat's Cradle

He bent, a little stiffly as always since his return home, and snared a book from one of the boxes. He looked at the title on the binding, then gently opened it to the first page. “Nah. Never got around to it—not that any reputable college would take me.” He glanced up from the book. “What about you? Did you ever get to college?”

“No,” she said quickly, wondering why in heaven’s name she’d asked him that question about going farther in school.

“Why not? I seem to remember that you were a real brain. There was even a scholarship, wasn’t there?”

Cat stuck her hands into her pockets and looked out the window at the trees and the ever-present winter mist. “Yes.”

“What school was it? I forget.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t wish to discuss this with him, but that would be making a big deal out of it. And if she made a big deal out of it, he would sense that she often regretted missing her chance for a college education. She didn’t want him to know of her regret. It was too personal. And she was being careful to avoid anything personal with him.

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