“Your father?” she asked hesitantly.

“Never knew one, never heard a name.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thanks, but please don’t feel sorry for me. It was a rough, poor neighborhood and I wasn’t the only kid with those kinds of problems. I was one of the few to get out, however. And it was a genuine miracle. I was in a good foster home and went to a decent school, and even though I was pure trouble, they worked with me, caught me up on the lessons, took extra time with me, introduced me to track. I could’ve been placed in any other home and gone all the way down to the place my mother lived and died, but I got a second chance because someone gambled on me. I was too mean to care and too angry to appreciate the chance and I fought back hard, but they hung in there with me. I was lucky. Plus, I might’ve been poor and neglected, but I wasn’t unloved or abused or molested, so I had a fighting chance. My foster mother suggested I had a chance to make my mother proud of me. She also made sure I was in counseling with a group of kids more like me. Worked like a charm.”

“Is this a story you’ve told a lot?” she asked.

“It’s a story I’m used to now.”

“You tell it in your speeches?” she asked.

“About my life, yes. About my mother? Not too much. Telling it to myself was the hard part. I think it was ten years ago or so that I had to figure out what was driving me, what was scaring me and costing me sleep, what extra weight I was carrying. And I didn’t do that because I’m sensitive or insightful. I did it because I was angry, screwed up, wanted to win races, and it was like I was just ten pounds too heavy. I got into yoga, started reading more about spiritual freedom, started listening to...” He stopped and laughed. “TED Talks. Not exactly, but stuff like that. As an experiment I just blurted out the unvarnished truth about myself, my roots, and no one died.”

He reached for her hand and held it.

“No, I don’t talk about her a lot. Only when it’s appropriate. It’s heavy. I assume you really wanted to know.”

She nodded.

“I hope your experience was a lot easier.”

She nodded, but she pulled back her hand. Of course her experience was easier! “I was adopted by a white American family. Irish Catholic, as a matter of fact. They were well-to-do. I went to private schools, traveled a lot with my family and classmates. I lived a pretty charmed life.”

“Something happened somewhere along the way,” he said.

“Why would you say that?” she asked, picking up her mug of tea.

“I don’t know,” he said. “There’s grit in you. You’re a survivor, I can see that. It’s how I connect with people. I thought we’d have more in common.”

“I think we have some things in common,” she admitted. “Since I found myself a young single mother, I’ve gotten tougher.”

“No help from those well-to-do Irish Catholic parents?”

She laughed a little ruefully and shook her head. “They were mortified. Furious. Disappointed. I was an honor student. I’d been accepted to Harvard. They’d poured a fortune into my education. They expected better. And...well, they weren’t going to help me. Us. I wanted to have my baby and asked for their support and they were adamant—there would be no single mother and fatherless baby in their house. So I left. I made it on my own.”

“And Charlie’s father?”

“He also wasn’t much help, but then he wrecked on a motorcycle in the rain and was completely lost to us so I’ll never know if he would have eventually been supportive. Please, I try to paint a more positive picture for Charlie. A person shouldn’t grow up thinking the worst of their... Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“I understand what you meant,” he said. “But haven’t you tried contacting them? Would they have changed their minds once they met Charlie?”

“Leaving was very hard,” she said. “It took me quite a while, in fact. In the end I might’ve done it as much out of spite. Anger. Determined never again to be a part of their grand plan.”

The cute little Asian baby, gifted and naturally hard-working, destined for great things... They had two biological daughters who hadn’t impressed them, one in the Peace Corps and one majoring in marriage. Lin Su was to be their great achievement. At the very least a physician, at best a great scientist or neurosurgeon. They would proudly take credit for her.

“Adopted,” he said.

“I was a happy child,” she said, almost defensively. “Until I became a mother, I didn’t have problems at home.” See, I’m not really like you.

He didn’t speak for a while. He took another sip of tea. “I figured out something about myself—that I had issues. Not conscious ones. For one, I was afraid of being abandoned. And it wasn’t an idle fear—I had been abandoned over and over. For a long time it kept me from healthy relationships with women—I thought they’d eventually leave me. I poured myself into my sport.”

“Even your coach?”

He laughed uncomfortably. “She was the exception as a matter of fact. I was in a relationship with Gretchen for a while. After working closely together, we got involved, and by that time I’d resolved some of my issues and wanted a more committed relationship. But she didn’t. She’s very independent, married to her work, isn’t interested in a family, doesn’t want to be tied down, doesn’t need anyone. Just what I deserved, I guess. I walked away from perfectly great women before even giving them a chance because I was screwed up. Then I chose one who wouldn’t commit.”

“I think maybe she’s reconsidering,” Lin Su said.

“Well, I’m not, and I made that clear. It would never work, anyway. We’re really not very alike.”

“You’re everything alike!” she said.

“Doing the same kind of work isn’t enough to make a successful relationship. There has to be a lot more than that.”

“Well, you’ll find the right person,” she said, sipping her tea, which had become cool.

“I think I have,” he said. “I could be wrong, but I think we have a lot of the same stuff. Even if we come from very different backgrounds, our priorities are similar.”

“That’s crazy,” she said. “Charlie is my priority. Charlie, Winnie, my home life, family life, my work.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re right—nothing in common there.”

“I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I bet I’m not it,” Lin Su said. “I haven’t even been on a date in over fourteen years. Well, not really...”

“Not really?”

She shrugged. “I was in a friend’s wedding and I had a partner for that, but it was nothing.”

“You’re it,” he said. “I can tell.”

“There’s this saying about men and settling down—the most available woman when they’re the most ready. They don’t even think about it.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

“I haven’t!”

“All right. I understand completely. You think about it. In the meantime, let’s go out to dinner one of these nights.”