Breathing Lessons (1989 Pulitzer Prize) - Anne Tyler [2]
' 'No, she was just-and she said that Jesse was the only one she'd ever truly loved." "She said this on the radio!" "It was a talk show, Ira." "Well, I don't know why everyone has to go spilling their guts in public these days," Ira said.
"Do you suppose Jesse could have been listening?" Maggie asked. The thought had just occurred to her.
"Jesse? At this hour? He's doing well if he's up before noon." Maggie didn't argue with that, although she could have. The fact was that Jesse was an early riser, and anyhow, he worked on Saturdays. What Ira was implying was that he was shiftless. (Ira was much harder on their son than Maggie was. He didn't see half as many good points to him.) She faced forward and watched the shops and houses sliding past, the few pedestrians out with their dogs. This had been the driest summer in memory and the sidewalks had a chalky look. The air hung like gauze. A boy in front of Poor Man's Grocery was tenderly dusting his bicycle spokes with a cloth.
"So you started out on Empry Street," Ira said.
"Hmm?" "Where the body shop is." "Yes, Empry Street." "And then cut over to Daimler . . ." He was back on the subject of the fender. She said, "I did it driving out of the garage." "You mean right there? Right at the body shop?" "I went to hit the brake but I hit the gas instead." "How could that happen?" "Well, Fiona came on the radio and I was startled." "I mean the brake isn't something you have to think about, Maggie. You've been driving since you were sixteen years old. How could you mix up the brake with the gas pedal?" "I just did, Ira. All right? I just got startled and I did. So let's drop it." "I mean a brake is more or less reflex." "If it means so much to you I'll pay for it out of my salary." Now it was his turn to hold his tongue. She saw him start to speak and then change his mind. (Her salary was laughable. She tended old folks in a nursing home.) If they'd had more warning, she thought, she would have cleaned the car's interior before they set out. The dashboard was littered with parking-lot stubs. Soft-drink cups and paper napkins covered the floor at her feet. Also there were loops of black and red wire sagging beneath the glove compartment; nudge them accidentally as you crossed your legs and you'd disconnect the radio. She considered that to be Ira's doing. Men just generated wires and cords and electrical tape everywhere they went, somehow. They might not even be aware of it.
They were traveling north on Belair Road now. The scenery grew choppy. Stretches of playgrounds and cemeteries were broken suddenly by clumps of small businesses-liquor stores, pizza parlors, dark little bars and taverns dwarfed by the giant dish antennas on their roofs. Then another playground would open out. And the traffic was heavier by the minute. Everyone else was going somewhere festive and Saturday-morningish, Maggie was certain. Most of the back seats were stuffed with children. It was the hour for gymnastics lessons and baseball practice.
"The other day," Maggie told Ira, "I forgot how to say 'car pool.' " "Why would you need to remember?" Ira asked.
"Well, that's my point." "Pardon?" "It shows you how time has passed, is what I'm saying. I wanted to tell one of my patients her daughter wouldn't be visiting. I said, 'Today's her day for, um,' and I couldn't think of the words. I could not think of 'car pool.' But it seems like just last week that Jesse had a game or hockey camp, Daisy had a Brownie meeting . . . Why, I used to spend all Saturday behind the wheel!" "Speaking of which," Ira said, "was it another vehicle you hit? Or just a telephone pole?" Maggie dug in her purse for her sunglasses. "It was a truck," she said.
"Good grief. You do it any damage?" "I didn't notice." "You didn't notice." "I didn't stop to look." She put on her sunglasses and blinked. Everything turned muted and more elegant.
"You left the scene of an accident, Maggie?" "It wasn't an accident! It was only one of those little, like, kind of things that just happen. Why make such a big deal of it?" "Let me see