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I looked down. “We still have a ways to go.” A thought occurred to me, and as usual it was out of my mouth before I could reconsider. “Do you ever wish you’d been born a man?”
“Please say no,” my dad whispered, but Margaret appeared to take the question seriously.
“Not for a minute. Women make the best friends and the best supporters. Our empathy is part of what makes us strong, despite the stereotype.”
“You think so? Culturally, the whole idea of being female is equated with weakness. If you do anything ‘like a girl,’ it’s an insult. And, of course, the ultimate insult, being called a pussy. Sorry, Dad,” I said and ducked my head. I never said words like that in front of him.
“On the contrary, I would argue that men’s emotions makethemweaker than they do us. Take the old-fashioned art of dueling for example.” She put her elbows on the table, bright-eyed. “Men used to set a date for a formal get-together to shoot each other if someone got their feelings hurt. Can you imagine women doing that? Janet said that Sharon called you a tramp over dinner the other night, so you’re going to meet her at dawn with your guns. Which somehow proves you’re not a tramp?” She shook her head in disgust. “And almost all murderers are men, which should also tell you something about who’s more emotional,” she muttered.
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it too deeply,” I said. “We kind of just accept the fact women are more emotional. We make fun of periods and how women cry all the time, and men are seen as stoic.”
“I’d like to see how stoic they’d be during labor and delivery. History books are full of men who couldn’t handle their feelings and did something stupid. So yes, we make those connections culturally, but they don’t stand up to any sort of examination. But I digress. No, I wouldn’t want to be male. They may have more power, but look what they’ve done with it. Oh, and we live longer.” She shot me a wink.
I stopped to consider that. Not that I wanted to be male myself, but lately it seemed like everything would be so much easier if I were. I’d be where I wanted to be professionally, but Margaret was right; there was a lot to lose in exchange for that power.
“Mags is smart, you know,” my dad said. “Men are great, but we’d be lost without you women. At least I would be.”
“Thank you, Margaret,” I said sincerely. “I would love to get coffee with you sometime and talk more.”
“Anytime, Indiana.”
I smiled at her and my dad. “How’s it been going for the two of you?”
Dad brightened. “Every morning, Mags takes me out to the garden, where we have our coffee and watch the mountains. You know how much I love this view. Mags isn’t from here; she moved from the East Coast. She loves it, too. But now I have an even better view to look at when I have my coffee, sitting right next to me.” Dad raised his eyebrows at her.
“Russell,” she said and swatted his arm, “stop it.” She turned to me. “Has he always been this sentimental?”
“No,” I said. “You must be very special.”
“She is, Indiana,” he said. “Even if she kills me, too, it’ll be worth it.”
I shook my head. “Margaret, don’t kill my dad.”
“Wasn’t planning to, but you have my promise.”
“Then you have my blessing.”
Dad turned to me. “So what’s this about a guy coming over for the afternoon? Nancy said there was a lot of giggling and you couldn’t wait to get him inside.”
I blew my hair out of my face with an exasperated breath. “It’s not what it sounds like.”
“Regardless of what it sounds like, I’d like to meet him.”
“Nancy misunderstood. I was excited because, well, guess what? I finally did it. I finally got fish for my tank.”
“That’s a big step, Indiana,” he said seriously. “A lot of women your age are having children, and you’ve just gotten up the courage to get a single fish.”
I ignored that. “Not justafish, Dad, but, like…feeeeesh.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“I now have eighty-three fish, Dad. Maybe more. There’s definitelygoing to be inbreeding. Unfortunate but unavoidable. Aren’t you proud of me? I’m the matriarch of a whole inbred fish family now.”
He whistled through his teeth as Margaret looked back and forth between us. “How inbred is this colony going to get? Will they grow legs and hang out on your countertops? Are they going to sleep in bed with you?”
“Most likely they’ll just develop spinal deformities, but by all means, if they grow lungs and want to sleep with me, there’ll be fish sleepovers with tropical snack flakes and Animal Planet on TV—the whole deal.”
“You go all in, don’t you?” Dad asked, shaking his head.
