I remember how once, when my mother was getting on Jacob’s back because he refused to make small talk at a distant cousin’s wedding, he said that he would have asked Aunt Marie how she was doing if he really truly cared . . . but he didn’t, so pretending he did would be a big lie. There are times when Jacob’s world makes a lot more sense to me than the one the rest of us live in. Why do we ask people how they’re doing when we don’t give a crap about the answer? Is Mr Jennison asking me that question because he’s worried about me, or because it’s something to say to fill up the air between us?
