Free 36 Arguments for the Existence of God by Rebecca Goldstein Page B

from?”
    “Tennyson.”
    “Did she stick it out with that doctor?”
    “They lasted less than a year.”
    Roz reaches over and ruffles Cass’s hair, letting her hand drift down the back of his neck. He wishes it didn’t give him the thrill it does. Men’s bodies are cads. Still, the sensation reminds him of Lucinda, if that’s any redemption.
    “You’re better off without her. You should be grateful to that brain doctor—what was his name again?—for luring her away from you.”
    “Micah McSweeney, and I am.”
    “Sometimes I think your mate-selection module got knocked out of whack in the commotion you went through with me.”
    “You may be right.”
    “Remember when you begged me to marry you?”
    “Did I? Sure you’re not mixing me up with some other bloke?”
    They’re both grinning.
    “Did you? On your
knees
, did you!”
    “And what did you say? Did you by any chance say, ‘I need a life of maximal options’?”
    “You still remember!”
    Her voice is rich and husky, though the vibrating veins of animation that run through it make it sound as if it belongs to a higher range. It’s exactly the voice Cass remembers from twenty years ago. If Cass doesn’t glance over at her, he’d swear it’s the twenty-nine-year-old woman. Then again, even when he does give her a quick sidelong glance, she looks notmuch older than when they had been lovers. The biggest difference is, she looks a lot tidier and more expensive—though he wonders about the bottoms of her feet.
    “So tell me what you’re doing in these parts. You’re still at Berkeley?”
    “No, I’m not. I’m
retired!”
    “Retired? You’re too young.”
    “That’s the beauty of it! The University of California is bankrupt! The only money they have is in their pension funds. They’re broke, and can’t pay our salaries, but they’re flush with pension cash! So they offered early retirement to any senior faculty that wanted it! They’re paying me a yearly stipend that just about matches my salary, only I don’t have to go to work! How sweet is that? I hit the jackpot!”
    “Are you staying in California?”
    “I’m keeping all options open. With a little encouragement, I’d dislodge that Lu
cin
da person. I noticed you’re living with her.” He’d been right that she had devoted those five minutes to research.
    “I am.”
    She gives a melodramatic sigh.
    “I thought so. A girl takes her eyes off a guy for two or three measly decades, and the next thing she knows, he’s two-timing her.” This last is delivered, to perfection, in her Mae West impersonation. “You haven’t gotten married again, have you?”
    “No, we’re not married.”
    “I’d be hurt if you had gotten married and hadn’t told me.”
    “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
    They’re on the Larz Anderson Bridge, crossing the frozen Charles. Cass glances left and sees Weeks Bridge gleaming in the brilliant wintry light. As they make a left on the far side of the Charles onto Storrow Drive, Cass gestures and says, “Look over there, Roz. Do you see the way the rushing water has carved out a cathedral in the ice? It’s sublime, isn’t it?”
    “Sublime? Cathedral?” She’s craning her neck to see what he’s talking about, but they’re already making the turn that will get them onto the turnpike, and she turns back to him, shrugging. “So this is how the atheist with the soul carries on. Sounds like there’s a whole lot more soulthan atheism going on in there. How’d you come to write a book like that anyway?”
    “We can talk about my book later. Let’s concentrate on you first.”
    “You always know the right thing to say!” She laughs. “Okay. So you want to know what I’m doing now that I’m retired from academia? You won’t believe it! Cass, this is the most exciting adventure of my life.”
    “I hope this one doesn’t involve international lawyers and investigators from the State Department.”
    “I’m sorry, but I’d smuggle