I had been talking on the phone with my friend Karen, and when I hung up, I started to tell Bo about our conversation.
“Karen? “ he asked. “Who’s Karen?”
I could see the question on his face.
“You know. My friend Karen … we shop together, eat lunch out, get our hair cut. We’re together a lot.”
“Oh,” Bo said.
I decided to push. “Do you know who I mean?”
“She’s tall, attractive, has dark hair.”
He didn’t say anything. “Married to Jay. We worked together for years.”
“Oh,” he said knowingly.
I decided to push. “You don’t really know who she is, do you?”
“No,” he replied sheepishly.
I dropped the topic, but went straight upstairs to find a picture of Karen. “It’s time,” I told myself as I went through a box of photos from the top of the closet. “Time to make an album of people’s faces so I can show them to him when he’s unsure.”
I found Karen’s picture and took it to him. ‘Oh”, he said, as if it didn’t really matter.
This conversation told me a lot. More than I had realized. More than I want to know. When Bo says he knows, he probably doesn’t. Another setback.
Postscript: This morning when we got up, Bo knew exactly who Karen is.