I insisted he at least feed me while we were talking, so we found a local diner and settled into a booth. He was wriggling in anticipation the whole time I looked at the menu, and between that and thinking back over the last few weeks, I was feeling kind of overwhelmed and shaky, myself. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when I ordered a cheeseburger.
"You're on the meat, again? Ay, this is really something…"
"You know, I do often go carno after a long time on the vegan train. You know I believe all things in moderation."
"Stuff it, Cosima, and get to the story."
So I told him, with necessary edits, of course.
I used to be really bad at lying, obfuscation, even lying by omission. Maybe it was because I'd spent so much time forced into keeping up appearances with my holy roller parents. Maybe it's just who I am. I'm emotional, I crave honesty, connection and knowing. Trying to deny myself of that when I was younger just tied me in knots, compacting my spirit until it had to explode outward. Shay and I had quite a few fights about it, when we were first on the run. It came to a point where she began teaching me meditation just to stay calm so I wouldn't blurt out everything to anyone. We conducted our own, private acting classes, first by rote and then improvisational.
The funny thing was, the more I got into exploring the spiritual, the meditational, the better I became at omitting the parts of my history and emotions I had to hide to stay safe, keep any questions about my identity comfortably controlled. It made me calmer, relaxing the feedback loop of tense heart, tense muscles, tense mind. When I envisioned the world as containing so many layers and energies, clinging to one particular path didn't seem so necessary. I cleared my mind, took each decision in less of a panicked, temperamental rush, and let myself be in the moment, instead of I want, I want, I want...
I even became a better listener. I took in more of what people were saying so that I could analyze their reactions, say less myself, but it evolved into letting the part of me that was engaged, caring, nurturing, come forward. I couldn't connect to them with the whole of my ego, my desires, but I could quiet my self-involved thoughts and really focus on what they were saying, along with the stories their bodies and facial expressions told. It actually felt really good. As much as I'd loved the science, the puzzle-solving and intellectual pursuits, there had been a part of me that was lonely, that needed to get out of my head and get grounded in the basic, human desire for social interaction and bonding. So, while I said less about myself and some parts of my life, I listened and spoke more to the universal truths, the simple answers to complex problems which was letting them go, existing and letting things take care of themselves. My past, my issues, they were mine, and I could take care of them mainly by taking care of myself, and learning to let them go. Sure, I had a few people I could confide in about things, like Shay, Sarah, and later, Margot. But the feeling of quietly releasing my anxiety and hurt, of moving through the world thoughtfully, carefully, but with the assumption that everything would be okay, that I was merely a part in a vast whole — where all the intricacies of life were based on some real and grounding constants — it was liberating, reassuring. It was possibly a really bass-ackwards way to get involved with spiritual enlightenment, by starting it with learning haow to hold back and make up stories about who I'd been, but it worked, for me. Plus, people don't need to know all the details. Tell them you empathise with them due to some pains or joys in your past, and it creates a feeling of mutual understanding, which, let's face it, would not go as smoothly if you told them you were a clone who'd escaped some sort of genetic-manipulation war. I mean, who can relate to that, right?
So, Teo knew a lot about me, but he didn't know all the dangerous stuff. I'd revealed to him that I had to keep a low profile due to having been manipulated by some government and big-business types, but I never mentioned DYAD, or Topside, specifically. I let him know I'd been part of an experiment on genetic manipulation, but not a human clone. I let him know what he needed to know, what was fair to him when considering us making a child together — that I had had some gynecological issues in the past but was now biologically sound, that I had a lifestyle of roaming that would both give him and Michael the majority of the parenting time and keep us all safe, that I was willing to take as much or as little part in the family as worked for them. But there was a lot I didn't say, and I really said very little about her.
It came out when we were in some maudlin conversation, or when I was drunk or super-stoned. There had been a woman. I'd loved her. I'd thought she was The One, the true love I was supposed to have a life with, you know? But that some shit went down, and everyone got hurt, and that was all a part of a history I wanted to leave behind me, now. He got it, how important this person had been to me, how I'd been shaken, even if my words about her were far and few between. Delphine. He didn't know who she was, but he knew she was important to me, and that was enough to make her important to him.
"Wow," he breathed, after I told him how she and I had been reunited by surprise, how we'd worked out all the wounds from our past and, in our maturity, had formed an even tighter bond than the circumstances of our shared history had allowed. How we reconciled, how she was amazing, how truly head-over-heels I was. And, of course, that the sex was great, mind-blowing, even, because of course he would ask, but that it was more than that, because I didn't even feel comfortable calling it sex, a lot of the time. It was important to me, deep, so I couldn't dish about it the way we had about previous dates and conquests. I needed to call it making love. "Oh my God, this is serious. You look happy, Cos. Really." He cocked his head as his mischievous smile spread again. "So when do we get to meet her?"
"Um, it could be pretty soon," I admitted, trying to smother my shit-eating grin. "I'm gonna see her while I'm out in Massachusetts, and then she may come visit in Woodstock. Maybe even," I found myself biting my lip, then feeling a warm glow as the sensation of the action reminded me of her, "if everything goes okay, maybe she can meet you guys and Sevvy in a couple weeks?"
His look of surprise and excitement morphed into something deeper, and when he glanced down and back up again, I realized that his eyes were welling up with tears. That sweet, sentimental, actually sappy hispano. He really was such a romantic.
"Yes, of course." He grabbed my hands in his own and squeezed. "I'm so happy for you, Cos. We'd be honoured."