The Pursuit of Alice Thrift Read Online Free PDF Page A

and works at a Harvard hospital. No, not married, but he dates a different nurse every night.’ ”
    I said, “It’s not so much your gift of gab. It’s bigger than that. It’s a quality of mercy combined with your ability to make a joke.”
    Leo smiled and said that was a nice compliment. Very nice. Thanks.
Quality of mercy
—wow.
    â€œMaybe some of it will rub off on me,” I added.
    He said—another tribute to his diplomacy—“You have other strengths, Alice.”
    â€œName one.”
    â€œBrains, for starters. I mean, let’s say there was an entire hospital staffed by smiling volunteers, happy LPNs, and class clowns like me. It would certainly lose its state certification in a hurry.”
    I said that was a ridiculous argument, but thank you.
    â€œWhat exactly are you worried about?” he asked. “Your private life or your professional life?”
    â€œProfessional,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ll be invited back for a second year. And then what? I’ll have to start over again. And what would that be? Who’s going to want a resident that was asked to leave?”
    â€œDoes that happen?”
    â€œAll the time. It’s a pyramid system. They start with seven, and prune every year.”
    He sighed. Even Leo couldn’t put a positive spin on my prospects.
    I walked over to the counter and came back with the coffeepot. “Let’s just say my answer to that question had been ‘personal’ instead of ‘professional.’ Would you have some insights? Have you noticed me doing anything egregious during social exchanges?”
    Leo upended the sugar dispenser and let several teaspoonfuls pour into his cup.
    â€œBe honest,” I said.
    He squirmed in his chair, closed one eye. “If you put a gun to my head, I’d probably say that at times you remind me of my sister-in-law Sheila.”
    Leo had twelve siblings, so there was always a family member he could cite as a role model or bad apple. “I hasten to add that Sheila is probably the smartest of any of my brothers’ wives.”
    â€œBut?”
    â€œBut she’s not the person I’d marry if I had my eye on the governor’s mansion.”
    I said, “Massachusetts doesn’t have a governor’s mansion.”
    Leo closed his eyes, exhaled as if exasperated.
    â€œIs your brother running for something?” I asked.
    Leo shook his head.
    I said, “I ran for office once, in high school, but I lost. I would have been perfect for the position of class secretary because I’d taken shorthand one summer and would have been able to take the best notes of anyone else, but apparently that mattered very little.”
    â€œEverything in high school is a popularity contest—which can’t be a startling revelation to you.”
    I tried to remember back to the three straight years I ran, and the three straight years I was trounced by girls who weren’t even members of the National Honor Society.
    â€œDon’t take this wrong,” said Leo, “and don’t answer if you don’t want to, but did you date in high school?”
    He didn’t let me answer. He patted my hand and said, “No matter. What a stupid and shallow question, right? As if you’d even remember.
My
high school social life is certainly a blur.”
    He poured himself a second bowl of cereal and filled it to the rim with milk. “The guy who calls here? Is he a friend?”
    â€œI had dinner with him once.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd he’d like to do it again.”
    â€œHave you called him back?”
    I said no.
    â€œNo, permanently, or no, not yet?” he asked.
    â€œHe’s not my type,” I said.
    Leo offered no rebuttal, but I knew what he was thinking: How could Alice Thrift, workaholic wallflower, have collected any data or constructed a model on something as theoretical as her