Chapter 15

That night, I confirmed my earlier hypothesis. Orgasms worked better than sleeping pills on Judah. I left again at five, but only because we’d already made that arrangement.

The lesson I left behind was for caramel French toast. Judah had made arrangements for that, too.

My train pacing ground to a halt. On nights when we couldn’t get together, I went straight home and messed around in my kitchen with ideas on what to teach Judah next. He was eager to learn, though not always good at follow-through. The third time we went back to his place, he showed me the remains of the frittata he’d attempted. The egg in the center that hadn’t cooked all the way had congealed in the refrigerator in the two days since he’d set his kitchen towel on fire trying to take the food out of the oven.

As unpredictable as my life became, however, I didn’t miss the way it’d been before.