A Lady in Waiting 10

She smiled because she could afford it. This time, she had been able to consider the shape of her questions and didn’t lose them in her own discomfort, so she skipped the introductory chatter. “I read parts of your old blog. You made reference to the ‘manosphere.’ On the one hand, you seem to agree with the basic ideas. At the same time, you seemed to renounce most of it as too selfish. I know you hold some underlying logic, but I can’t follow it.”
He actually grinned this time, showing her something she had not yet seen. Shifting his weight, he held out his hands. “The facts of human nature are visible to anyone who is willing to set aside cultural mythology. What you do with that is a separate question. Most of those writers are still stuck in their own Western biases, so they use the facts of human nature in a Western fashion. They are trading one package of mythology for a different one which is only slightly better. They still want what shallow and materialistic men have always wanted, but now they are simply better at getting it.”
She gazed at her hands for a moment, folded together in her lap. She looked up. “A half-truth is still a lie. So these guys are standing taller while still stuck in the mud.”
He almost laughed. “Very well put!”
She interrupted with, “I stole that from a friend who is very literate.”
“Sounds like he can afford to throw a lot of such treasures around. How fortunate for you; I’d like to meet this friend some day.”
“He works in Finance. I’ll introduce you sometime. Right now, I still want to catch the vision you were trying to promote. I don’t feature myself a feminist, but some of your blog posts almost sounded offensive.”
His smile hardly faded. “It’s only insulting if you cling to the myths. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you could escape them easily, they’re so ubiquitous and overwhelming. Much as we might wish to wipe away the curse of the Fall, modern feminist assumptions can’t change what we are and what makes us tick. It serves no purpose to demand rights and fairness that God says are not possible. There is joy and wonder aplenty left over once we get used to reality.”
She crossed her arms. “I remember that. On the one hand we are wired in ways our world refuses to understand, but then you seem to suggest there are ways to fight the curse.”
He didn’t hesitate. “The curse is not our human fallibility, but our blindness to it. Talking about the facts of our broken nature is not meant to discourage us, to have us wallowing in our sin, but to recognize the real options for escaping the worst effects. Fighting all the huge social disasters that arise from sexual ignorance is not about better sex, though it will surely bring that. It’s about putting sex in its proper place. It’s not a goal in itself, but a celebration of something much more important between two people. The manosphere virtually ignores the meaning of a lifetime partnership in mission, and chatters endlessly about how to have a hot sex life. Despite lip service to meaningful relationships, they never cease talking about women as complex toys. I want no part of that.”
She turned her head to one side. “I remember seeing that ‘mission’ business. Nothing else matters, you said. So when you promised your wife you would heed her advice and try to find a successor, did you know then what kind of woman you were looking for? I gather looks really weren’t much of an issue.”
His eyes had drifted down to his hands on the back of the chair. “Among the many conversations we had during her lifetime, we agreed I would never make it alone. Not in the sense I couldn’t live as a bachelor, but that I couldn’t keep the mission alive without a partner, someone who could at least understand some of what drives me. I need someone who catches the loose ends that fall free when I find myself wrapped up in something that consumes so very much of my limited human resources. With a partner, the mission doesn’t suffer quite so much as it would if I stumbled along alone.”
He looked up at her. “No, I don’t care what she looks like. Sure, I have tastes; every man does. Having those satisfied is mere icing on the cake. What matters most is someone who has a clue to what drives me. I learned long ago, before my first marriage, when two people spend time together sharing something so much bigger than themselves, genuine love and passion are sure to follow. That’s another of those facts about our wiring.”
It was now or never. Becky rose from her chair, walked to the door. Resting one hand on the handle, she paused. Then she closed it. Turning back, she put her hands on her hips. “Am I stupid for asking if there is any cake here at all, and do you see enough icing?”
She was in arm’s reach, just barely, from where he sat. He leaned out and took her hand. “It had to come from you or it would never work. I had no idea it would be this quick, but I was more worried you’d never ask. Yes, there’s cake and plenty of icing.”