The Interview Read Online Free Page A

When I laughed, he looked over at me and smiled; I noticed that his eyes reflected the greenery well… they looked interesting. Another morning, when he’d been away on business for a few days I realized I liked his company.”
     
    “ You missed him.”
     
    “ I did. Then, one day--while James was helping me pick some herbs for my mother in the garden--it dawned on me that I hadn’t thought about Ben in a long time. That night I took out my old journals and re-read the entries I’d made on the boy I had once thought so highly of. The prose seemed awfully juvenile all of the sudden; it angered me to read them, really… the boy I’d known seemed wholly unworthy next to the man who’d asked me to marry him. I burned the journals, and the sketches I’d drawn of Ben. Even the little friendship bracelet he’d given me so many years previous. I know that seems a bit drastic… but it healed something in me. I felt able to grow up, and James’ company constantly reminded me that I didn’t have to go it alone. The fact that my parents loved the man also gave me courage.”
     
    “ That would help…” Candace admitted, soberly. “So, did you say ‘yes’ or was that just unnecessary?”
     
    The writer laughed, softly.
     
    “ He asked me out for a picnic… my parents declined to go, which surprised me. I baked a few appetizers, not wanting him to think my mother was the only cook in the house…”
     
    “ Trying to impress the guy, eh?”
     
    “ That did not occur to me until later. But, yes; I suddenly cared what this man thought of me, oddly enough. I was careful not to slouch, or jabber on too much. I worried about how I smelled, how my hair looked… things I had never cared to worry about before. ‘You’re quiet today’ James remarked, as we drove. I merely nodded; inwardly, I wondered why I could think of nothing to say. All my wit was stolen away… my philosophies focused on the man next to me, though I didn’t want to admit that out loud. He asked me what I was thinking about. I told him I’d rather not say; he laughed, smiling at the windscreen. He said he was glad I still felt free to be honest with him.”
     
    “ So… a romantic picnic,” Candace said, writing. The writer shrugged, a little.
     
    “ That’s such a trite word… ‘romantic’,” said she. “It’s almost a cliché in of itself.” The woman paused a moment before continuing. “That picnic meant so much more than what a mere adjective could speak of… it was where I realized I loved James, you know. Aside from welcoming your children into the world, there nothing in a woman’s life quite as special as finding your soul mate.”
     
    “ Yeah… that’s what keeps romance novels selling like they do,” Candace put in. “We’re all looking for that.”
     
    The authoress nodded; the reporter noted that despite being a best-selling writer, the woman’s slow, patient nod was a better answer than words.
     
    “ We sat for some time, just eating and watching the scenery; he’d picked a large tree to sit under, on the edge of some farmland. Birds were flocking at the far-away haystacks and bickering over bugs. It was enjoyable to sit with him.”
     
    “ Did you think of Ben?” Candace asked, wondering if she was egging too much. For some reason she felt bothered about trying to rattle this woman.
     
    “ Once; though, doing so brought out tears of regret.”
     
    “ Did James notice you crying?”
     
    “ I think so. I dashed them away fairly quickly,” the writer said, “Most men find a crying woman a bit of a mystery… they may want aid, or they might want space. We weren’t married yet, so he debated with himself and picked the latter. Every other time since, though… he has jumped in to comfort me, so be at ease.”
     
    ” Good; the man’s human, then.”
     
    “ Very.” The authoress smiled, the hat brim nodding along with her. “Once I’d got over my emotional moment, I looked over at James; I