Morgan's Passing - Anne Tyler [126]
“I can’t do without Gina, Morgan.”
“And the others,” he said. “Mother and Brindle. You think Bonny wouldn’t take them back? If we walked out of here and left them, Brindle would be on the phone to Bonny before we hit the pavement. ‘Bonny, dear, they’ve left us!’ ” Morgan said in a high, gleeful voice. “ ‘Goody, now we can get back to color TV and civilization!’ And Bonny would say, ‘Oh, God, I suppose it’s up to me now,’ and here she’d come, rolling her eyes and clucking, but secretly, you know that she’d be pleased. She likes a lot of tumult. A lot of feathers flying in her nest. I’d ask her for a divorce again and this time she’d agree to it. No, I can’t do that, I don’t want her knowing where we are. I don’t want her driving after us with hats and dogs and relatives. I’ll bring one suit, one hat, and you and Josh. We’ll just clear out—pull up our tent and go.”
“Yes? Where to?” Emily asked. She was lying flat again, with her eyes closed. There was no point taking him seriously.
“Tindell, Maryland,” he told her. “Join up with that fellow Durwood.”
“It was Leon he was asking for.”
“I am Leon, for all he knows.”
“Oh, Morgan, really.”
He was silent. He seemed to be thinking. Finally he said, “Isn’t it funny? I’ve never changed my name. The most I’ve done is reverse it. My name has been the one last thing I’ve hung on to.”
She opened her eyes. She said, “I mean this, Morgan. I do not intend to leave Gina.”
“Oh, all right, all right.”
“I absolutely mean that.”
“I was only talking,” he said.
Then he rose and went to the closet, and she heard his Panama hat settle among the other hats with a dim, soft, whiskery sound.
8
“It’s all very easy for you,” Bonny said, “because Morgan’s in a position of certainty by now. You know what I mean? He’s … solidified. You inherited him when he was old and certain. You have never got lost in a car together and yelled at each other over a map; he will always seem in charge, to you.”
Emily stood in pitch dark, lifting first one foot and then the other from the cool, slick kitchen floor. She said, “Bonny, why do you keep calling?”
“Hmm?”
“This is just not natural. Why are we always on the phone this way?”
Bonny let out a whoosh of smoke. She said, “Well, I’m worried about his eyes.”
“His eyes?”
“I’m reading this book. This book by some Japanese expert. Everything’s in the eyes, it says. If you can see a rim of white below someone’s iris, you can be sure that person’s in trouble. Physically, emotionally … and you know Morgan’s eyes. That’s not just a rim of white, it’s an ocean! His lower lids sag like hammocks. I don’t think he’s eating right. He needs more vegetables.”
“I feed him plenty of vegetables.”
“You know he has a sweet tooth. And he drinks so much coffee, chock-full of sugar. Deadly! Refined white sugar, processed sugar. It’s a wonder he’s lasted as long as he has. Oh, Emily! He should be eating alfalfa sprouts and fresh strawberries, organically grown.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Morgan’s diet.”
“He should cut down on red meats and saturated fats!”
“I have to hang up now, Bonny.”
“If he were properly fed,” said Bonny, “don’t you think he’d act different? I mean, basically he’s a good man, Emily. Basically he’s warm-hearted and open. Openness is his problem, in fact. Oh, Emily, if I had him back, don’t you think I would feed him better now?”
9
Emily felt her way down the dark hall, stubbing her toe against the wicker elephant. She arrived in the bedroom and found Morgan wide awake, propped against the wall, silently smoking a cigarette. He didn’t say anything. She got into bed beside him, smoothed her pillow, and lay down. The telephone rang in the kitchen.