“Maybe they tried,” Anna said. “What are you having?”
“The Zee roll, half a morning star roll and half a Lee’s special roll.”
Like always. Bess ordered the same thing every Saturday at four.
“You could get the same thing if you like,” Bess said, which was her way of saying she had ordered exactly what she wanted to eat, wouldn’t want to share, couldn’t change her selections. She was as rigid as a steel rod.
“I’ll order something else, thanks,” Anna said. “It’s nice to see you. You look wonderful.”
Bess laughed a little bit. “I never look wonderful, especially not lately. I used to at least try a little makeup but since law school I don’t even bother. No one cares how I look, including me.”
Anna quickly ordered. Out of habit she ordered more than she could eat, prepared to share with Bess, knowing Bess wouldn’t touch Anna’s food. It just wasn’t part of her plan. In fact, her dishes were arranged in a clockwise fashion, and it was always the same, just as her closet was color coordinated, her drawers stacked with perfectly folded sweaters, pajamas and undergarments.
It was how Bess managed her life. It was how Bess was in control. She didn’t have to make too many choices and nothing was left up for grabs.
“Tell me about your case law,” Anna said, just looking for anything they could actually talk about.
“We’re working through some tax law right now and it’s complex. I like it. No one else does.”
Anna laughed at that. “They will become tax attorneys when they find out what the billable fees are. But why do you like it?”
“It’s complex but at the end of the day it’s really simple. It’s mostly just math, except in the case of fraud. The IRS makes the rules and prosecutes if they’re broken but their rules are poorly written and ambiguous. It’s like mystery multiple choice and one has to figure out what they meant. There are taxes, fees and percentages. It becomes complicated with interest and penalties, which are often discretionary. No one really goes to jail. Well, sometimes, if there’s fraud, premeditated fraud. But it’s soft time.”
Anna was momentarily taken aback. “Soft time?”
“Easy incarceration. White-collar incarceration. Color TV, state-of-the-art gym, internet, catered meals...” She lifted one of her sushi bites to her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. “Conjugal visits.”
Anna laughed. “And what more could a felon want?”
Then Bess rattled off several paragraphs of tax code from memory, most of it involving rather obscure situations like property tax on a chicken coop in one state, sales tax on deodorant in another, “Because antiperspirant is considered an over-the-counter drug.” She went from real-estate taxes to capital gains deductions, pausing only for a bite of sushi.
“That memory,” Anna said. “Remarkable.”
“You have a great memory,” Bess said.
“Nothing to yours!”
“I think my memory would be more fun if it wasn’t directly tied to the fact that I’m so weird.”
“I wouldn’t call you weird,” Anna said. “You like things a...” She paused a moment. “A certain way. That’s all.”
“I certainly do. And not many people understand. Martin seems to. I’m not sure why.”
“Martin again.”
“Martin kind of likes tax law and is willing to drill me on it. But his first love is cybersecurity and identity theft, that sort of thing. Because it’s a little harder to untangle. He’s like me in that way. The bigger the challenge, the more he likes it.”
Anna swallowed. “I think you’ve mentioned Martin before but I can’t remember in what context.”
“I study with him,” she said. “He’s a hopeless nerd, like me. He’s just a smart nerd, not on the spectrum. But his memory is even better, if you can imagine.”
“Hard to,” Anna said.
“And I sleep with him,” she said.
Anna nearly choked. “You do?” she asked weakly. Bess just nodded and continued to work away at her sushi. “Are you in love with him?”
“I don’t know. Probably. But we have a lot in common and spend a lot of time together. He’s a great study partner. He pushes me. I do like him a lot. Of course.”
Of course, Anna thought. If Martin was like Bess—brilliant, gifted, almost a photographic memory, low on emotions, high on autonomy—they could marry and produce a flock of adorable robots.