American Music - Jane Mendelsohn [58]
There’s always that chance, she said. But I’m willing to take it.
I don’t mean us, he said. I mean what’s happened here, the stories.
I can take that chance too, she said.
But do you want to?
He looked sideways at her. Those yellow flecks in his eyes. Without thinking about it she took her hand off his coat.
Don’t you want to know? he said.
She blinked. Her brow was clear and smooth but now it tensed a little and her eyes narrowed.
Yes, she said, looking down, I do. She looked up. But not if it’s going to hurt you.
I’m so hurt already, do you think it matters?
Of course it matters. It’s enough already.
But you need to know. I can tell. You need this.
I need you more, she said.
I want to do this for you, he said.
Her eyes were tearing now.
When it ends you’ll leave here?
When it ends I’ll leave.
He had her face in his hands. He kissed her and when he stopped kissing her he took off his coat. Then he reached his hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off. Then he lay down on the bed with his back to her and he took her hand.
The Carriage
The sawdust swirled into tiny piles on the floor when the door opened and closed. A bell rang. The door slammed shut. The wheels of a baby carriage cut smoothly through the sawdust. Behind them, a woman’s feet followed in heels and stockings kicking up more yellow explosions of sawdust. The light in the shop was golden and warm. Two men wearing white coats smeared with red worked behind a counter. The woman pushing the baby carriage smiled when she saw them. Hello, Irv, Hello, Arnold, she said. They glanced up from their cutting and shot her friendly looks and said Hello there, ma’am, and How’s the baby? There were two women there already and while the woman with the carriage waited she gazed at the pink baby bundled in the carriage and played with her. The infant’s face was round and alert and unsmiling although interested in the sudden change of location. Her face registered the dusty air with a quick sneeze. Then it returned instantly to looking up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, the rim of the bonnet of the carriage that caught her vision, the large face of the woman who looked down on her and straightened her cap. The baby kicked off her blanket near her feet and the woman held her feet and said piggies and played with the feet. The infant almost smiled and seemed happy and then looked back at the lights. The woman raised the pitch of her voice and now the baby looked at her, although she did not quite look in her eyes. The woman tucked the feet in their hand-knit booties back underneath the soft blanket.
What’s good today, Irv? Did you save me a nice cut?
I have some beautiful lamb chops.
Marvelous. Give me six.
How’s the proud papa?
Working hard. He’ll be thrilled to have lamb chops.
The man behind the counter wiped his cold wet hands on his apron and began hacking away at some meat. He measured it and wrapped it up in thick white paper and then he tied it up with string. He leaned forward over the counter to hand it to the woman and as he did so he said, Let me see the gorgeous little princess.
The woman turned the carriage around so the man could see.
No, no, lift her up. I need a good look.
The woman removed the infant from her comfortable bedding and lifted her up and showed her to the butcher.
Is she a beauty, the man said.
The woman beamed. The baby squirmed a little. The woman gave her a loving squeeze.
Arnold, c’mere, the man said. Look at her. Look at those gorgeous green eyes.
What was her name?
Who?
The child?
No one said.
I kept searching but I couldn’t find out.
Honor had both hands on his rib cage. She moved them around his back. I looked all over. It isn’t there.
It’s somewhere.
Will you lie on your back? she said.
He shook his head into the pillow.
You can find it without that, he said.
Her hand stopped. She saw a woman rising out from the entrance to a subway station. It was raining slightly when she emerged onto the