"So you went to school and got a degree, then went to graduate school to get another degree…" Daniel prompted.
"And then was so tuckered out from all the degree getting that I didn't finish my dissertation. Yet," Sophie said as she folded her legs under her and settling further into the sofa, facing Daniel.
Dinner had been a success – despite the lack of garlic bread – and they had retired to the family room with two glasses of red wine, Sophie watching as Daniel stoked a fire to life in the fireplace.
She could get used to this postcard perfect kind of life, she mused with a small smile. The good wine, the crackling fire, the hottie occupying her couch…
"Will you?" Daniel asked, jarring her back to the present.
"Will I?" Sophie repeated, momentarily dazed, and then shaking herself back to reality. "I will," Sophie said with determination. "I always finish what I start, I just… I needed a break. I wasn't sure…"
"What?"
"I mean, usually when you go this far in school, you're expected to keep getting degrees, or to turn around and teach. And the more I thought about it, the more I really didn't want to teach apathetic undergrads about seventeen century literature. I mean, I was one of those apathetic kids once…"
Daniel nodded, but said nothing.
"I guess I'm just searching for direction, and the longer I put off the writing, the longer I don't have to decide what I want to be when I grow up. And right now, that's incredibly appealing."
"I can understand that," Daniel said, and Sophie looked at him in puzzlement.
"You do? I mean, it seems like your life was all laid out for you, so all you had to do was step into those shoes."
Daniel shook his head no. "I never intended to go into agriculture at all. In fact, growing up, I couldn't wait to get away from Hay, to never come back. And yet, here I am…"
"What were you going to be?"
Daniel smirked. "You'll laugh."
"I won't," Sophie crossed her heart solemnly.
"I was going to be an accountant. I was going to join a big firm in London and wearing constricting suits and live the preppy life to the end of my days."
Sophie bit her lip but did not laugh. "Yeah… I can't really see that."
"In the end, neither could I," Daniel said with a self deprecating smile. "When Mum died, a lot of things changed, chief among them my perspective on the world and my place in it. Even though London was a done deal, I just knew in my heart I couldn’t go. It was difficult but I chose. I lost some things…"
"Like your girl," Sophie said softly, and Daniel looked up sharply. "Oh come on. You can check up on me, and I can't check up on you?" Daniel gave her a wry smile, but said nothing. "I hear that she just… left. That's a rude bitch, if you ask me."
Daniel laughed a little. "She was a lot of things, and yes, rude bitch among them. She just couldn't stand by my decision to stay, and in the end, I couldn't stand by her. Let's just say the parting WASN'T amicable."
"So I gathered," Sophie said with a smile as she took a sip of wine. "Her loss. Now you can be the playboy of Hay if you like. I can totally see it."
"Should I buy the Porsche first, or the posh shoes and Miami Vice suit?" Daniel deadpanned, making Sophie giggle.
"The suit. Definitely," she agreed. "So is this the right fit? Is this what you want to be when you grow up?"
Daniel nodded after a long pause. "Yeah. I never thought it would be this farm, but it turns out, it's this farm. This seems to run in my blood, and I'm quite good at it, so hopefully I can make a go of it for the next fifty years or so…"
"Hopefully," Sophie echoed, giving him a warm smile.
"So, you never told me. What was the topic of your dissertation?"
"Okay, brace yourself. It's pretty racy stuff," Sophie said seriously, and Daniel raised a single eyebrow.
"Oh really?" he asked speculatively, a seductive and teasing smile playing across his lips.
"Okay, ready?" He nodded and she took a deep breath. "The Influence of Non-Shakespearean Elizabethan Playwrights on the Concept of Epic Theatre and the Plays of Paradox." She paused, noting his blank expression. "Riveting, huh?"
"Oh, terribly," he deadpanned, before giving her a quick smile. "That explains why you threw Tamburlaine in my face once. Sophisticated argument tactic, by the way," he noted and she giggled.
"Why mess with a good tactic?" Sophie teased. "Yeah, now you can understand why I haven't finished my dissertation, right? Doesn't it just want to make you run out and learn all there is to know about the intricacies of Elizabethan theatre? At least I'm in the land of Marlowe and Kyd and Jonson. That's something…"
"Wow, if you do research here, can you write off this entire field trip as being school related and get a break on tuition or something?" Daniel speculated.
"I'm thinking… no. And you call this little shindig a field trip? More like a life altering event," Sophie smiled at him, grateful that he hadn’t pushed her to finish, nor quizzed her on the contents of her studies. It was interesting enough when she started, but now…
Life is so much simpler now, she mused. And yet, I feel like I'm learning more each day in that store than I ever could in a dusty carrel in Bloomington…
"Well, at least your degree is in comparative literature – that's related to your bookstore, right?" Daniel said, taking a sip of his wine. "I mean, it's all words on a page, and how they make people feel, and what they all mean."
"Yeah, but so far we haven't had a lot of spirited debates in the stacks about Austen novels or Victorian poetry. Mostly just 'how much is this?' and 'do you have anything by Danielle Steel?'. Woe is me."
"Woe is you, indeed. Could be worse…"
Sophie raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"You could be a farmer. Or even better, an Aga repairman. Well, repairwoman."
Daniel grinned and ducked as Sophie chucked a pillow at his head.
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