Romantic Tension of a Sort

I like this!

I had a swallow of chocolate left and I looked at introspectively. Normally, I would have no problem coming up with something to say, but I felt surprisingly awkward. “Would you like another?” Dantes said.

“Heaven forebear!” I said. “I will spoil my dinner.”

“No good, then. I can’t hold you here with more chocolate.”

“You want to hold me here?”

There was his smile, breaking like the sun over the sea in the morning. “Your company is very pleasant. May I be frank?”
“If you want to be,” I said. “A cup of chocolate purchases at least that much.”

“I enjoy your company. I have to admit I’m impressed by your forthrightness. When I talk to other women, it’s a game.”

“As in women are playthings?” I said.

“Not at all!” he protested. “Rather, I believe they play with men like they are toys. It is the particular skill of your sex, and a cruel skill that most of you use to torment us. But you, I’ve never met a woman quite like you. You’re quick on your feet, you’re friendly, and you’re genuine. I don’t detect any artifice about you.”

“Perhaps,” I said, “your problem, M. Dantes, is that you don’t evaluate women as people, but as women. There is no doubt that we have our differences from you men, but most of us aren’t so very different from men. Let me illustrate. Do you know women who eat like a bird?”

“I understand all ladies eat like birds.”

“I understand that all ladies of quality generally eat their meals before they go to an event so that they can appear to eat delicately. In reality, we like two cups of chocolate, or the occasional extra helping of stew.”

“I would pretend shock,” he said, “but I had some suspicions along those lines.”

“I’m glad. I would hate to be God’s instrument of disillusionment. I wonder that it wouldn’t work both ways.”

“Let’s find out,” he said. “What questions do you have about men?”

There was a statement. I cleared my throat. “Well, one thing I’ve always wondered about is why men won’t talk about their feelings. Have they fewer than we women?”

“Oh no,” he suggested. I noticed he had hardly drunk any of his chocolate. “We have just as many, if not more than women. I think women are by far more the rational than men. However, the truth of the matter is that men are much more bashful than women.”

“I am incredulous,” I said. “Men go forth and make their fortune in the world. My cousin, for example, what he wants is to range far and wide. The Catalans are not enough for him, nor is Marseilles. How could a fellow like him, or like you, expect me to believe you are shy?”

“It takes a great deal for a man to risk sharing his feelings, regardless of all his other accomplishments, especially to women. It is true. Because it is easy for women, you all assume it is easy for us.”

I had never thought of it like that before. “That is insightful. I thank you for that, M. Dantes.”

Finally, he sipped the chocolate. “Madamoiselle, you are most welcome. I would be the luckiest man in the world if I had had a sister like you to help me understand these puzzles of God’s creation.”

“You say you leave in a month?” I asked.

“I am in port for one month, yes.”

“I will be fairly busy spinning during this month, as you know,” I said. “I would be happy, however, to help you unravel the mysteries of God’s creation, if you will help me understand men.”

“Are you proposing friendship?” he asked.

“Are you afraid to meet a woman on equal footing?”

“I am afraid of nothing,” he said. “At least if you ask my crew that is what they will tell you.”

“Then it is settled, Monsieur. You and I shall meet in the market and we will educate each other.”

He sipped his chocolate thoughtfully. “Again I am in your debt.”

“Hardly,” I said. “A woman is harder friend to have than a man. We are more demanding.”