Over the past month, Sandra has been seeing Dr. Sasse twice each week and attending a group class once a week for people that have had someone close to them pass away. Losing Jeff gave her the motivation to uncover her emotions, discover the root cause of her anger and hate, and learn how to manage her response when she becomes overwhelmed. Now that she has spent significant time forcing herself to speak with Dr. Sasse about her feelings, it has become much easier for her.
At her first group therapy meeting she was quiet, reluctant to join in, but with some encouragement, she finally told her story at the end of the session. Nobody judged her. Not even the woman who had lost her husband and two children to a drunk driver, an event so horribly painful Sandra doesn't know how this woman gets out of bed every day.
There's also the college student who came home 10 months ago to find her sister raped and murdered, her boyfriend arrested hours later. Kami had warned her sister that her boyfriend seemed odd and maybe she should be careful. Kayla, known for being a free spirit and trustful of everyone, didn't listen, not even when her parents thought something was unusual with her new beau. She was brutally assaulted and died from her injuries three months into her relationship with this man. For a long time, Kami felt her sister was partially to blame, and she felt confused and disgusted with herself for not directing 100 percent of the blame toward the man that violated Kayla and murdered her.
It disturbed Sandra to listen to Kami describe how angry she was with her naïve younger sister and how she found herself resenting her for being so trusting. There was the shock of blaming a victim for her own murder, but it also cast a light on what Sandra was feeling toward her mother.
The cigarettes – a pack a day for several years. Sandra came home from school one day in first grade and begged her mom to stop the filthy habit because she learned it could cause all sorts of health problems, but she just smiled and kept on smoking. Then there were her mom's excuses to avoid seeing a doctor. Her mother hated them - even going in for a routine physical took a lot of persuading from her dad. Regular check-ups may have caught her cancer sooner. And when she did find a lump in her breast, she waited. First, she said it might be a clogged milk duct from breastfeeding for so long. Then she decided it was just a sore spot from an underwire bra. She kept putting it off, always finding excuses to delay getting it checked out. By the time she went to see a doctor about it, it had spread. Had she gone in immediately upon finding the lump, she may still be alive. Or…maybe none of that mattered. Maybe her fate was decided long ago. No matter what Betty Roslin did or didn't do, the outcome may have been the same.
Late last week Sandra was finally able to fully articulate to Dr. Sasse what she has been feeling. "Mom left us. Maybe if she hadn't smoked, or if she exercised more, ate better, or maybe if she had gone to the doctor sooner, she'd still be here. And I wouldn't have started drinking and doing drugs, I wouldn't have overdosed and gotten arrested, I wouldn't have hurt my family and friends…this is so stupid. My head tells me she could've done everything right and still died from cancer, but part of my heart blames her, hates that she didn't take better care of herself, and I'm so ashamed for feeling this way. That's why I've been pushing people away – only a truly horrible person would blame their mother for getting cancer and dying. People like JJ and Jeff deserve better than me."
"How do you feel right now?" Dr. Sasse had asked, closing his notebook and setting it aside.
"Embarrassed about admitting all of that, but also relieved. Because I think I finally figured it out, and this conflict my brain has been having with my heart that has been tearing me apart can finally end. I love my mom. I do. I miss her. From things I've heard in group therapy, it's not uncommon to feel some resentment toward the person that died. For some, that's a stage of grief, but I can't let it drag me down anymore. I need to heal. Can you help me with that?"
"Yes."
The transport carrying Dr. David Roslin and Jen Jorgenson arrives at noon on Wednesday at the shipyard in Tauron City. They are greeted by a limo driver who takes them to a luxury hotel located in the heart of the city. It's a short drive from there to Tauron City University where Dave will present the keynote address tomorrow evening regarding his current book, an overview of his upcoming book, and research that is being done through grants at Caprica City University. The hotel is near the Tauron Museum of Natural Wonders and History, close enough to walk there and to many other historical and cultural places downtown during their extended visit.
After checking into the hotel, they relax together, enjoying the view off the balcony. At 5 pm they will be picked up by the history department chair from TCU and taken to one of the top restaurants in the city, one Jen can't wait to dine at. Years ago, she received permission to emulate some of the main dishes off the menu from Arete, and she's excited to try some of the common dishes to see how close hers come to mimicking the flavor.
They freshen up and change into their evening clothes at 4 pm, Dave in navy slacks with a crisp white button shirt, and Jen in a beautiful teal colored sleeveless summer dress and heels. They meet Dr. Hamish Yara in the lobby along with his husband Cyrus Yara.
Jen makes an immediate impression at dinner, chatting about the different items on the menu and commenting on the blend of seasonings used to enhance the taste. Cyrus knows the manager and is happy to introduce her to him, so they excuse themselves before dessert arrives for a quick chat by the kitchen.
"She's exquisite," Hamish comments to Dave. "I hope you don't mind my asking – around 5 years ago I met you at a conference on Caprica with your wife. She was pregnant as I recall. Forgive me, I don't remember her name."
"Betty. She was pregnant with Cheryl, who's almost 5 now."
"Ah, that's right! Betty, such a lovely woman. We had a wonderful conversation back then. I had told Cyrus about her, and I was looking forward to introducing them to each other, so I was surprised to meet Jen in the lobby. You and Betty parted ways?"
"Not exactly. Betty passed away from breast cancer when Cheryl was 3."
"I am so sorry to hear this news! Forgive me for prying. Jen is equally as lovely. You are very fortunate to have loved twice. I will say a prayer for Betty tonight."
"Thank you. I haven't figured out how to bring up my wife's passing without being directly asked about her. I'm grateful that you asked rather than make an incorrect assumption. Betty and I intended to grow old together and some days it's still strange to me that she's not here anymore, especially now that I have a grandchild. But Jen…she's amazing. My daughters love her. We met through Laurie's husband – Jen was his babysitter when he was a child."
"I'm going to make an observation here, forgive me if I'm being bold. I believe you have another chance to grow old with someone and judging by how Cyrus has taken to her, I think he will agree with me. I will add that to my list of things to pray about this evening."
After successfully making it through another week of therapy and school, Sandra decides to treat herself and Cheryl Friday evening by going out to eat. They have both been on good terms with each other, agreeing that it's better to be supportive and friendly than constantly bickering about little things.
"How would you feel about getting noodles tonight? I can call Uncle KC and see if we can get a reservation. If they're full, we can always get it to go."
"Yay!" Cheryl exclaims, always eager to eat spicy noodles. "Did daddy leave you money?"
"Nope. I'm using my advance from my book. If I can't spend some of it on my little sister, what good is to me? Go comb your hair and I'll call KC."
If they leave right away to avoid the evening crowd, he can get them a table for two if they don't mind being indoors and near where the band is warming up. On the drive there, Sandra promises to take Cheryl to the ice cream parlor for dessert afterwards.
Both girls devour two bowls of noodles and KC packs up two orders to go so they can have leftovers on Saturday. Sandra leaves a generous tip since KC refuses to charge them for their meals. That's a direct order from the boss - anyone with the last name of Adama or Roslin never has to pay for food.
The ice cream parlor is crowded so Sandra parks Cheryl at a table while she stands in line to order. While she's waiting, Cheryl looks around the room for people she knows, but most of them are young couples with infants, nobody she has ever seen before. The bell on the front entrance rings and when she turns, she sees Jeff walk in with a very tall, very pretty, very blond girl.
"Uh-oh."
Sandra is just about to place their order, so Cheryl runs to her intending to ask if they can get their treats to go.
"Cher, I thought you were going to save the table," Sandra complains.
"I changed my mind. We should get it to go," she says jumping up and down with urgency.
"Do you have a tummy ache?"
"No, I want to leave."
"I can't eat my ice cream while I'm driving," Sandra says. "It'll melt before we get home. The table's still open, go grab it so we can eat here."
Cheryl runs back to the table just as Jeff's date pulls out a chair. "This is my table," Cheryl says as she climbs on top of the other chair.
"It was empty when I walked over here. You'll have to find a different one," the blond replies, barely giving her a glance.
"My table. You need to leave. Now," she argues in as defiant a tone as she can muster.
"I don't think so," the girl huffs, pulling out her phone and ignoring Cheryl.
"The only reason it was empty was because I had to tell my sister something. You need to leave."
"Not my problem. Look," the girl points to the far corner. "Those people are leaving. If you hurry up, you can have that table."
Even if this girl wasn't on a date with Jeff, Cheryl wouldn't like her. Who takes a table away from a little kid? However, the corner table that just became available might be a better one to eat at. She can arrange the chairs so Sandra will sit with her back to the room and maybe she won't notice Jeff and his snooty date.
Cheryl turns and runs to the table, getting there before a family of four that just walked through the door can get to it. By this time, Sandra has paid and is looking around the room. Cheryl waves and moves to the corner seat, leaving the one facing toward the corner for her sister to sit in. Sandra doesn't see Jeff standing in the long line and he doesn't notice her either, looking at his phone and smiling, presumably at a text he just got from his date who is making plump kissy-lips and taking selfies.
Sandra's dish is huge – four scoops of ice cream, sprinkles, chocolate syrup, peanuts, whipped cream, and a cherry on top of each scoop. It will take her forever to eat it, so Cheryl decides to eat slowly, hoping that Jeff and Miss Meanie-Pants will leave before they do.
With one eye on her sister and the other on Jeff, Cheryl takes one painstakingly slow bite after another.
"Are you sure your stomach doesn't hurt? You usually eat ice cream so fast it makes my head spin," Sandra observes.
"It doesn't hurt. I'm kind of full."
"Since when? I don't think I've ever heard you say that before."
"I'm probably done with my growth spurt. It doesn't take as much to fill me up."
Cheryl takes a few more slow bites, pacing herself so that she doesn't finish before her sister. Jeff and blondie are smooching, feeding each other ice cream, and wasting all sorts of time. When blondie uses her index finger to wipe chocolate syrup from Jeff's face, then licks it off in a seductive manner, Cheryl's tongue protrudes from her mouth as if she's going to gag.
"You look like you're going to throw up," Sandra says, observing the scowl on Cheryl's face. "I better take you to the bathroom." She rises from her chair and holds her hand out to her sister.
"I'm fine," Cheryl says, quickly putting her tongue back in her mouth. "I'm fine, really."
"Better safe than sorry. I don't wanna be responsible for everyone getting sick here because I didn't get you to the bathroom in time."
"Let's go this way," Cheryl says, trying to lead her the long way around the room, as far from Jeff's table as possible.
"We're taking the direct route and not wasting any time," Sandra replies, giving her sister a confused look, until she takes two steps and sees Jeff kissing someone. She stops - everything stops in that moment. All she can do is stare until Cheryl slips her hand in hers. "Oh," she sighs shakily, realizing her little sister was trying to protect her. "You're not sick, are you."
"No. I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see them. I was trying to have your back. Do you want to leave?"
Sandra from a month ago would have been hurt, angry, and bolting from the establishment with her sister in tow. It stings to see Jeff with this girl, but she also knows it is completely unreasonable to expect him to sit around and wait for the day she is finally ready to be in a relationship, the day she feels much better as a person.
"We don't have to leave. Both of us need to finish our ice cream, and we don't need to worry about those two. Thanks for having my back, little sis."
"You're welcome big sis."
Jen and Dave have brunch at the hotel Saturday morning before walking to the museum where they will spend the rest of the day. They are met by the curator, Leander, who gives them an exclusive tour, taking them to exhibits that haven't opened to the public yet, and a backroom where artifacts from an archaeological site have been brought in and are being cleaned and prepped. That takes a few hours, then he turns them loose to explore the museum on their own. One of the last rooms they visit contains several murals done by a well-known Tauron artist from the previous century.
"I love these murals," Jen comments as she walks into the room. The one to her left depicts what life was like hundreds of years ago, showing native Taurons herding cattle through lush pastures, straw huts dotting the landscape. Women played a vital role, not only providing upkeep of the huts and raising children, but also aiding in the butchering of cattle and preparation of the meat in addition to using the hides to make clothing, blankets, and saddles. Every part of the animal was used.
Another mural showcases ancient agronomy and the different seasonings and spices that are native to the colony. This one is of particular interest to her along with the exhibits of spices next to it. She spends considerable time reading about them and how they differ from their modern, genetically engineered counterparts.
The remaining murals depict Tauron customs from ancient times through current history, including the evolution of tattoos that many Taurons adorn their bodies with.
"Not seeing any butterfly tattoos here," Dave murmurs in Jen's ear as she gazes at the mural.
"Hmm," she giggles as he slips his arms around her waist from behind. "I don't suppose so. I think I could spend most of the day in this one room. Maybe we can come back sometime?"
"Anything for you, Jen. I need to speak with Leander before we leave. Look around some more, take your time. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."
"Wait," she calls after him. "We're eating early tonight, right? Can you tell me where we're going?"
"No," he shakes his head with a wide grin. "It's a surprise. Trust me."
Laura meets Jean, Lily, Sasha, Tabitha, and Ellen at the Lightfoot Estate, an oceanfront property located a few hours west of Caprica City. This is the first time they have all gathered at the location of the wedding. A tailor is there to take measurements for alterations, as well as a carpenter who will build a platform for the wedding and some props. Eugene's mom Laila is also present, an extremely welcoming woman who doesn't act like someone who possesses such wealth. She's very humble, helpful, and cordial to everyone. She and June, Jean's mom, have become good friends. They have a late lunch with fresh garden salads, fruit, and champagne.
"None for me, I'm still breastfeeding," Laura says as they pass her a glass.
"I'll second that, the no champagne part," Sasha clarifies when she receives some funny looks from her friends. "I wish you would have brought Emilee, though."
"I would need a lot of help to tear her away from Bill on the weekends."
Once they finish the meals, the women go inside to be measured by the tailor. Lily is very thin. Working in such a high-pressure job as a news anchor has contributed to her stress level and she tends to skip meals when she's busy, which is nearly all the time. Tabitha has finally grown into her tall frame, filling it out nicely with a womanly figure. When the tailor has Sasha try her bridesmaid dress on, it's quite a bit tighter than when it was purchased the month before.
"This is probably the right time to tell you something, Jean. I'm pregnant, and I'll be extremely pregnant by the time of your wedding," Sasha announces.
"Oh, my gosh! Congratulations!" Jean exclaims, pulling her friend into a hug. "It is congratulations, right?"
"It is. I mean, we weren't trying, but it happened, so we're going to have her. I've already moved in with him here on Caprica."
"What's his name?" Laura asks, never having heard Sasha mention she was seeing anyone let alone living with them.
"Stuart."
"What's his last name?" Laura asks, wondering why Sasha isn't readily offering that information.
"Stuart."
"His name is Stuart Stuart?"
"Yes, and don't make fun of him. He's the father of my child."
This is more than Lily can handle, who doubles over with laughter. Too much champagne has that effect on her, plus she's always had trouble keeping a straight face when something is funny. "I'm sorry," she says when she sees Laura glaring at her.
"I'm sure he's very nice if he's dating you. What does he do for a living?" Laura asks, trying to steer the conversation into a more serious, less funny area.
"He works at a paper plant. He's a director," Sasha says proudly.
"Like a director of stationary, or printer paper, or what kind of paper?" Laura asks.
"Not exactly. He's the director of…toilet paper."
"No, Lily, you be quiet," Laura points her finger at her friend. "I'm sure Stuart is a great guy."
"I have a picture of the two of us on my phone," Sasha says, fumbling in her purse. Scrolling through a few dozen photos, she eventually finds the one taken at a dinner with her family. "Here."
Lily takes the phone, expecting to see a short, fat, balding guy, because what kind of parents would name their child Stuart Stuart? To her surprise, he is none of these things. Tall, broad shouldered, a full head of wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile so warm it could melt the polar ice caps. "Well, uh, damn. Stuart is a good-looking guy, Sasha. Don't suppose he has a brother?"
"He does but he's only 16."
"I can wait a few years," Lily replies, only half-kidding.
"He prefers guys."
"Of course he prefers guys. Of course."
The tailor moves on to Laura next, zipping the back of her dress but having a little trouble at the midsection. She asks her to suck in her stomach, which enables the zipper to move all the way up with some tugging.
"I don't think I can sit down in this dress," Laura says sheepishly, pointing to how the material is so tight across her abdomen that it is stretched to the limit.
"Are you planning on gaining more weight before the wedding?" the tailor asks.
"I wasn't even planning on gaining this weight. Guess that phase of breastfeeding where I can eat like a machine and still lose weight is over."
"I can do the same thing to your dress that I'll do with Sasha's. We can insert elastic, and I'll add some panels that we can release if we need to. Just as a precaution."
Laura returns to her assigned guest bedroom that is doubling as a changing room so that she can slip back into her clothing. The bedroom is huge with a very inviting, comfortable-looking bed. It will probably take another 15 to 20 minutes before the tailor is finished with everyone else, and since she missed her morning nap to get ready for this party, she decides to lie down and rest for a few minutes. She immediately drifts off into a deep sleep.
"Hmmm, Bill, what time is it?" she asks when a hand touches her cheek.
"Wake up, Laura. It's Sasha. We wondered what became of you."
"What?" she asks, completely disoriented from her nap, opening her eyes to see her friend sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.
"Ah, geez, I'm sorry. I didn't get my morning nap in. Is Jean mad that I disappeared?"
"No. She's wrapping up the party anyway, but she was concerned when you didn't come back from changing. Laura, do you think we can have our babies play together some day? I think it would be so nice if they could be friends."
"Sasha, I would love that! I wish I had brought Emilee today so you could see how much she's grown."
"If you don't have anything going on right now, I could use a ride home. Maybe we could stop by your place first? I could always have Stuart pick me up there if you don't want to drive me the rest of the way."
On the long drive back to Caprica City, the two childhood friends chat about pregnancy. Sasha has several questions, including what Laura's early symptoms were and how she dealt with morning sickness.
"How have you been feeling?" Laura asks.
"I was really tired at first, then I never felt like I could get enough to eat. Kind of emotional, too. I get misty-eyed whenever one of those commercials comes on tv about greeting cards and families sending them to grandparents they haven't seen in forever. Sometimes I get cranky and rude. That's not like me at all."
"No, that doesn't sound like you. You've always been one of the sweetest people I know. Pregnancy is a blessing, but it can sometimes bring out the worst in you." Laura reflects back to arguments she had with Bill when she was pregnant, little things that inexplicably set off her anger. Even recently she has snapped at him about leaving dirty socks on the floor and chewing his food too loudly.
"I've picked fights with Stuart over nothing, and then suddenly I'm pulling him into the bedroom because I'm crazy turned on and need him. Thank the Lords of Kobol he's an understanding man. Were you like that, too?"
"Ummm, yeahhhh," Laura replies, remembering how she barked at Bill this morning for making her toast too dark, then seduced him in the kitchen 5 minutes later, demanding he bend her over the counter and have his way with her. "Sasha, would you mind if we made a stop before we get to my place? There's something I need to do."
Dave decides to surprise Jen Saturday evening, refusing to answer her every time she asks where he's taking her for dinner. It's their last evening on Tauron and he's determined to make it special. Sandra has warned her what a sneaky man he can be, so Jen's certain she'll never be able to guess, especially after attempting to trick him into revealing their destination and getting scolded by him, lightly of course.
All she knows is that he will be wearing his navy suit with the crisp white shirt he got back from the hotel cleaners this morning, no tie. She will wear a new sun dress, one she picked up at a boutique on Caprica especially for this trip with him.
"You look dapper tonight," she says when he finally emerges from dressing and preening in the bathroom. "I was starting to think you got lost in there."
"I decided to shave again, and I didn't want to cut myself, so I took my time. Do you need to step in there before we leave?"
"No, I'm ready. Just waiting for you. Is there a cab waiting for us?"
"No need. We're walking."
They set off from the hotel heading in the opposite direction of the museum. After strolling a few blocks, they turn, walk another block, then turn again.
"Do you know where we're going?" Jen asks, worrying that she may develop a blister on her feet from the heels she's wearing.
"I'm a little turned in my directions," he admits, pacing around in a circle, gazing at the buildings and checking his phone. "Let's go this way."
They walk a few more blocks, then take a turn into a long alley.
"This can't be right," Jen says, hesitant to walk into the area that has a few dumpsters lining it, a perfect place for a criminal to hide.
"Just follow me," he says, pulling her by the hand. He then stops halfway into the alley looking around again before his eyes settle on a door. "This way."
"There's no way this is a restaurant," she says. "There's no sign, I can't smell food, and the dumpsters don't have food in them. Where are you taking me?"
Stepping through the door, they walk into a dark room, their eyes having to adjust for a few seconds. It's dusty, musty, and filled with…artifacts?
"This is the museum! If Leander is still here, we can ask directions," she says, walking determinedly from the backroom into the artifact cleaning room, hoping to see the curator.
"Hmm, maybe he's out front," Dave says when they can't find his friend.
Jen reluctantly follows Dave into the museum, worrying that they have no business being there after hours and wanting to avoid the security guard they saw earlier in the day, a large muscular man who has probably never smiled a day in his life.
"In here," Dave says, pulling her along toward the mural room.
When she steps inside, a table for two is set up in the middle, complete with fine china, wine, and a breadbasket. Leander is standing nearby with a smile on his face and next to him, a waiter from Arete.
"Would you care to join me for a private dining experience this evening?" Dave asks, gesturing toward the table.
"I love this. I love you," she says, giving him a kiss, then wiping the lipstick from his mouth. "Sandra warned me you were sneaky. You knew where we were going the whole time, didn't you?"
"I did," he admits, happy that his subterfuge worked. "I had to kill a little time because the food was delayed. Hope your feet didn't get too sore."
Two hours after leaving the Lightfoot Estate, Laura arrives home with Sasha. Emilee is happy to see her mother and while she's somewhat cool toward the new guest at first, looking at her suspiciously when Laura places her into Sasha's outstretched arms, she quickly warms when Sasha sings her favorite lullaby.
"Baby room is down that hall and on the right," Laura says, pointing the way.
"Okay. Holler if you need me," Sasha replies while carrying Em from the room.
"How was the party?" Bill asks, placing a kiss to Laura's cheek.
"It was good. Great seeing everyone again. Jean is marrying into a wonderful family and I'm so happy for her. Um, Bill, let's have a seat. I need to talk with you about something."
"Is Sasha staying for dinner?" he asks as they sit next to one another on the sectional.
"I suppose she could. She's living with someone now. His name is Stuart. It would be nice to invite him over, too, because they're going to be parents in about 5 months."
"Wow! I didn't even know she was seeing anyone."
"Neither did I. I'm happy for her. She speaks highly of Stuart, and it sounds like even though they aren't going to be married, at least not right away, he wants to be involved in raising their daughter."
"A girl! Emilee will have a friend."
"Yes, she will, and we plan on getting them together when her baby is old enough."
"So what did you need to talk with me about?"
Laura smiles warmly at him, looking him over, knowing that what she's about to tell him will change their lives dramatically. "I spent a lot of time chatting with Sasha today about pregnancy. She had several questions. I realized when we were talking…that it all sounds a little too familiar. On the way home, I decided to stop at a walk-in clinic. Bill," she says reaching for his hand, "I'm pregnant."
The sweet Tauron wine, the perfectly seasoned noodles, the rich, succulent dessert, and the romantic atmosphere all contribute to Jen's cheerful mood and deepening feelings for the man sitting across from her.
"Dave, this was an incredible evening. I wish it didn't have to end."
"We still have some time. Leander said he won't be leaving for another hour yet. We can take another look at the murals before we go." Rising from his chair, he offers her his hand. They walk to the mural of the men tending to the livestock.
"Simpler times," Jen says, carefully examining each detail like she's committing it to memory.
"In some ways, I'm sure it was. But it was a hard life, don't you think?"
"True," she agrees.
"How do you think the women managed all that work?"
"I'm sure they had excellent time management skills. Raising children, repairing huts, cleaning livestock, cooking – that's a lot to handle."
"It sure is. Why do you think the men didn't help?"
"In that time period those tasks were considered women's work. But it backfired on the men. Women could do everything a man could do, and then some," she replies with a wink.
"Including having babies. Men shared their wives with other men who weren't partnered with someone, sometimes with their own brothers and widowed fathers."
"Yes, the family wife. I've heard about this. I don't think I would have done well in that culture. Probably would have banished me from the village," she laughs.
"Do you think the men would have continued that practice if the women hadn't revolted?"
"They could still be doing that today in some of the more remote areas. I'd like to think that practice ended completely after the Women's Revolution, but some women didn't seem to mind being shared. I imagine there are still a few out there."
Next, they move to the mural of the seasonings and spices.
"Do all of these have modern counterparts, or have some been lost to history?" Dave asks, deferring to Jen since she's the expert on Tauron cooking.
"Most have been genetically engineered, except for a few that had some dangerous side effects if too much was ingested. Those have been banned. I'm sure there are heirloom seeds somewhere, probably for medical research."
"Have you tried all of these? Do you use them at the restaurant?"
"I've tried around two-thirds of them, but I only use about a third at the restaurant. I prefer the spicy ones. Some are sweet, but desserts aren't my specialty. When I started the restaurant, I felt I could provide a more authentic experience by focusing on main dishes. I didn't want to get spread too thin."
"That's sound business sense. What about the tattoos? Any desire to get one of those?" he asks, pointing at some of the larger ones that take up an entire arm or leg.
"No," she laughs. "I'm perfectly fine with having a tiny one and I didn't even like having it until a wonderful man told me it was his favorite. I really wish I could recall his name…" she says, glancing up and to the right like she's struggling to remember.
"Do you think the practice of telling one's life story with tattoos will continue in Tauron culture or will it become obsolete?"
"Why do I get the feeling I'm being given an essay exam? You are so full of questions tonight. Do you have any more, Dr. Roslin?"
Turning to face her, a mysterious smile appears on his face, his eyes searching hers, attempting to gauge how she will receive his response. "Only one."
The mildly annoyed expression on her face fades as she stares into his eyes. They really are the most beautiful shade of green, twinkling like he has a secret that he can't wait to share. When he makes the slightest squint, she knows that he's studying her. He moves a hand to her cheek, caressing it, a touch so gentle it causes her breath to catch before he asks his final important question.
"Jen, will you marry me?"