A Lady in Waiting 7

Miss Community Coordinator peeped out from behind the corner of her mind. “I forgot to ask, Rod, just how old are you?”
“Well, my orders say I was born in 1960. So far as I know, that’s accurate.” Not a shred of smart-aleck, just gentle ribbing.
She doubted she was the only one who would have thought him much younger. She was almost back in control of herself again. “They definitely belong to a later generation than you, but I agree that’s really not the point.”
“Not at all like you, eh Becky?”
She paused, but decided it simply couldn’t be avoided forever. She had to say something or lose it completely. “I find myself watching almost everything in this community pass by me on a different track entirely. It’s part of my position to be all things to all people, at least within the bureaucratic limits, but I can’t afford to really get personally involved. I’m even more detached than the people in Finance.” It was a favorite speech she had rehearsed and used often enough.
He offered a half-smile. “Professionally, at least, my contract requires pretty much the same perspective. I couldn’t possibly muster the sort of external schizophrenia of a spy or anything, pretending with deep cover to be something else, but I also can’t simply come here and jump into the hot-tub and party with wild abandon. Besides, if that were my style, I’d never have gotten this job. I’m pretty sure I was hired because I’m nothing like the people I encounter.” Again, that pause. “That’s why I’m so delighted to find someone like you here. If nothing else, there is at least someone I can talk to.”
A part of her kept a claw’s grip on her normal public persona, hoping she wasn’t going to leave too much blood to clean up later. Forcing it to stand to the fore, she stabbed to death the words, “Glad I could help.” Instead, she said, “I hope I’m up to it. Your books leave my head spinning.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Then you do understand, because that neatly describes what it’s like to write them. I won’t flatter myself by suggesting it takes some special courage to confront such ideas, but if you read much at all, you know I emphasize how important it is we become comfortable with that dissonance. I’m not offering answers, just suggesting we have been asking the wrong questions. At least, wrong for a few of us. What others take as chaos is my home.”
He pushed back from the table a bit. “I have to go. I do hope I’m not reading too much into your response to my work. Whatever you do, don’t let me bore you like some overeager boy telling his wild fantasies to the first listening ear.”
Holding her gaze just for a moment, he gave her a full gentle smile, then walked away, shouldering his laptop bag as he headed for the exit. His bicycle helmet swung merrily off one side.
“As if,” she said out loud with her eyes following him. She smiled and turned back to the remains of her breakfast. Her appetite for his company was even bigger.