The Book of Jonah Read Online Free PDF

slosh in tiny waves. These moods came over him, too—guilty, remorseful—but he’d learned that unfortunately, like their antipodes, they never lasted long, eventually gave way to lust, or boredom, or whatever name he might use for the inexplicable attraction that drew him to Zoey—over and over and over. “I guess I did sort of lose my bearings,” he confessed.
    Philip gave a noncommittal shrug. Jonah was sure Philip thought what any reasonable person would think: that he should end it with one or the other. But along with its lack of seriousness, their friendship did not admit the giving of sincere personal advice, either. It was a limit Jonah had noticed in nearly all his male friendships (maybe it was as much a foundation as a limit). So whatever Philip actually thought, all he said was, “Well, these things do happen.”
    Aaron Seyler was working the crowd not far away—drawing in all the nearby attention rather in the manner of water flowing to a drain. The brunette Philip had been eyeing was herself now making moon eyes at Aaron. He accepted all the adoration with an affability that approached grace. “Was he always like this?” Jonah asked.
    Philip watched Aaron for another moment, weighing, Jonah guessed, all manner of respective advantages and deficiencies in a man who could quite possibly be his rival one day for the Democratic nomination for mayor of New York. Finally he said, “Aaron sees himself as entirely smidge. He makes no distinction. He believes in QUEST, he believes QUEST is improving schools, he believes he is the person best suited to lead such an organization, or any organization, for that matter. In brief, he believes in something. Namely, in Aaron Seyler, which is what makes him so extraordinary, even in this room of rather extraordinary people.”
    Jonah watched as Aaron went on smiling and accepting congratulations and paying earnest attention to everyone and evidently doing as much—more—than anyone could ask to elevate the underserved and underprivileged. But it occurred to Jonah: If Aaron cared so much about New York City students—if any of them did—why weren’t they teachers? “He believes his own bullshit,” Jonah said. And somehow it was at this moment that he decided, with full conviction, that he would end things with Zoey. It was, he concluded, the right thing to do.
    He sustained this conviction through the rest of the cocktail party, and through the point on his cab ride home when he sent Zoey a text message: “Lunch tomorrow?” Then he immediately felt the uneasiness and preemptive regret that always accompanied his decisions to end relationships with women—but he told himself this was just the inertia and selfishness talking.
    Zoey didn’t respond for more than an hour, which wasn’t surprising, since she’d told him she was spending the evening with Evan, her (quasi-) boyfriend. By the time his phone finally chimed with her reply, he was undressing in his bedroom. “yes but only lunch. Z = busy bee tomorrow.”
    Jonah smiled and wrote, “Busy tonight?” because the fact that she was texting meant maybe that Evan had left, and with Sylvia in Chicago, they— He resummoned the guilt—he erased the message. In its place, he wrote, “Cool, only lunch. Meet @ 1 @ yr office?”
    It was several minutes before the reply came: “i’m too fat for lunchtime quickies now??” Then, in another minute: “i know, i know. don’t judge. i have the spoon in my hand. dignified lunch @ 1, schtupping to be scheduled.”
    He smiled again at the text—and then frowned. Didn’t he find all this charming? Didn’t he want to schedule schtupping as much as she did? Why exactly was he going to do this again? The answers came to mind: Sylvia, Evan, the momentum he’d built up toward doing it—the guilt now reasserted itself. “See you