Even though he continued to refuse her offers, Margaret kept passing along small portions of her food onto Jason’s plate. She also fed Sam, who also refused, though there was no exchange of words between the two. I offered them both some of my linguini in vodka sauce, but no one wanted anything from me. As I watched what would probably pass for a happy enough family from across the room, I wondered if what passed as love between Margaret and Sam originated from some deeper form of acceptance. It’s the kind that can come only after a long string of rejections, an acceptance that remains open so long as you remain open to it. It’s what I’ve seen in some second marriages, and is what I glimpsed between those two. Sam offered no words, no touch of the hand, in that same way he wouldn’t need to speak to or touch his own hand. The sentiment of affection was clear.
Jason and Sam
