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Book Haven, Thursday

Several days of being cranky because of Jono had left her… still cranky, but somewhat mellower, and Rosalind was glad to be opening the store today because it gave her something official to do.

Observing the number of people who were feverishly buying cookbooks, which was something to do with the holiday coming up, she surmised, Rosalind was glad that it wasn't her holiday. Besides, the discussions were amusing, especially when people disagreed about what was 'right' for Thanksgiving dinner.

The shop was open and there was a sign outside that said:

Now hiring! Apply inside!

Around mid-morning Rosalind had to break up a too-spirited argument about what kind of cranberry sauce was superior because it was disturbing other customers. That amused her too.

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"Which you've been so forthcoming about, hm?" she asked sharply. "Not to mention the fact that you're the one who said you're terrible at surviving."

Rosalind tilted her head at him. "You came back from your war. You lived. That's what surviving is about. It's not about how good a fighter you are, though that helps." She met his eyes. "It's about determination. The same determination that kept you alive, try applying that to every aspect of your life. Of course, that's if my advice is worth anything to you."

"You don't want to hear my life story any more than I want to tell it," Jono replied, shaking his head. "But you're right about one thing, at least. It is about determination. The rest... I think we're talking about two completely different sorts of survival."

They often did.

"You lived. I lived. You keep on going, and I sometimes wonder why I bother. And that has nothing at all to do with skill, and everything to do with guilt. A vague 'get better' doesn't make that go away. Do you ever just... look back instead of forward?"

She was going to address the thing about his life story, since he was the one telling her to get to know him and then about-facing and saying he didn't want to do that. Rosalind wished he'd make up his mind.

The more important part, though, was getting answered now.

"No," she said promptly. "Never. I don't have time for looking back."

Nor the inclination, frankly.

It was hard to make up your mind if you happened to be Jono. Half the time, even he didn't know what he wanted. Just that he was going to be miserable while he lamented the lack of it.

"I... have no idea how you do that," he admitted, after a moment's pause. "I can't help but look back. Where I've been defines so much of who I am, helps me decide where I want to go or where I don't want to find myself again. Not looking back seems like a completely alien concept to me."

"Technically," she pointed out, "I could be considered an alien."

Being from a totally different world than he was an all of that.

"I don't understand how you can look back."

"I look back so that I don't make the same mistakes twice," Jono replied, looking down at the lid of his coffee cup. "I look back to remember people I've cared about who didn't make it. I look forward as well, but I can only see so far."

Which was saying a fair bit, considering he'd set foot in the future more than once.

"I don't do that either," Rosalind offered. It was almost an apology.

... If you squinted a lot and tilted your head ninety degrees.

"Look forward. I take it one day at a time. The only forward planning I ever did was know I needed to work harder, get stronger, and I worked for that."

But it wasn't the same as planning for the future.

"So... there's nobody you miss? No regrets?" Jono shook his head a little, trying to wrap his head around that. "Nothing at all that you wish you'd done differently?"

"Not particularly," Rosalind said, after a long moment of thought. "There are things that... if they hadn't happened, I'd be glad, but since they did..."

Well, what was the point in looking back on them.

"And even that has nothing to do with my own choices."

"You don't base the decisions you make on where you've been at all, then..." Jono had no idea what to make of that. "I suppose... you live, you learn, you move on, and that's that?"

It was mind-boggling.

Rosalind shrugged slightly.

"How else am I supposed to live?"

Oh, that was a difficult question to answer, right there.

"I suppose that's the way to do it, if it's working for you," he allowed. "That's something else that comes from growing up the way you did, I suppose?"

"Partly," she said, after a moment's hesitation. "Also partly... just me, I think. I never had time growing up to look back, so I got used to not."

"Whereas my upbringing was all about where I came from. Family histories, stories of things my great-granddad wanted us... needed us to leave behind. Starsmores forget about where we came from, and, well..."

He looked at his hand, holding his coffee cup. Huge, blue.

Not his hand.

"We don't have the luxury of not looking back, is the thing."

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