Ignorance Is Bliss

Terry and I exchanged emails for a while after that Thanksgiving night. Slowly, things grew serious. Which still surprises me. A real connection, built entirely out of sentences and pauses between replies. Who knew affection could arrive quietly, one paragraph at a time.

I was not young, exactly. But I was innocent in a way that mattered. Trusting. Open. Perhaps gullible, though that word feels a little rude, like calling a daisy unsophisticated. When Terry asked for my address, I gave it to him. When a plane ticket arrived for spring break, I accepted it as if that was simply and naturally how life should go.

I told my best friend. She was thrilled and terrified, a balanced reaction. Her husband was not balanced at all. He asked, “Have you ever watched 48 Hours?” I nodded politely, as one does when one has no idea what someone is talking about.

Then word traveled. Academia is very efficient that way.

One afternoon, a lab colleague invited me to lunch. When I walked into the break room, I realized lunch was a ruse. Chairs were arranged in a circle. Students sat me down. No food. Only concern. They spoke gently but urgently, like people explaining fire exits. “You should watch 48 Hours,” they said.

I wondered why everyone was so devoted to this show.

The intervention lasted the entire lunch break. Nobody ate. I cried. Not because I was upset, but because I was so deeply moved. Concern like that is a rare thing. It lands softly. Like snow.

Then our professor walked in. He took in the scene and laughed. He waved everyone off and turned to me. “Go home and watch some 48 Hours. Goodness.”

I did not.

I still took the trip.

At the airport, Terry greeted me with a wide smile and a white teddy bear holding a heart that said, “I love you.” We drove two hours to his home. The road unspooled calmly ahead of us. Fields. Sky. Time.

Then he asked, casually, “Have you ever watched 48 Hours?”

I looked at him with eyes wide enough to qualify as a weather event. Up to that point, I had not watched a single minute of it.

He nodded, thoughtful. Then said, very gently, “Please do not accept invitations from strangers again. You really need to watch 48 Hours.”