The Age of Grief - Jane Smiley [13]
“I’m not going to step on it!”
“Well, pick it up anyway. I doubt that Lily wants your mess all over her place.”
“Who are you to speak for Lily?”
“I’m speaking for society in general, in this case.”
“Why don’t you go running, for God’s sake?”
“I’d rather not have a heart attack in the heat, thank you.”
“Well, it’s not actually that hot. It’s not as hot as it was yesterday, and you ran seven miles.”
“It’s hot in here.”
“Well, there’s a nice breeze outside, and this town is very shady. When you get back we can have lunch after you shower. We can have that smoked turkey we got at the store last night. I still have some of the bread I made the day we left.”
Kevin looked at her suspiciously, but all he said finally was, “Well, pick up that stuff, okay?”
Nancy smiled. “Okay.”
Still Kevin was reluctant to go, tying his shoes with painful slowness, drinking a glass of water after letting the tap run and run, retying one of his shoes, tucking and untucking his shirt. He closed the door laboriously behind him, and Nancy watched out the window for him to appear on the street. When he did, she inhaled with sharp, exasperated relief. “Christ!” she exclaimed.
“He doesn’t seem very happy.”
“But you know he’s always been into that self-dramatization. I’m not impressed. I used to be, but I’m not anymore.”
Lily wondered how she was going to make it to lunch, and then through the afternoon to dinner and bedtime. Nancy turned toward her. “I shouldn’t have let all these men talk to you before I did.”
“What men?”
“Kevin, Roger, Fred.”
“I haven’t talked to Roger or Fred since late last winter, at least.”
“They think I ought to be shot. But they really infuriate me. Do you know what sharing a house with Roger was like? He has the most rigid routine I have ever seen, and he drives everywhere, even to the Quick Shop at the end of the block. I mean, he would get in his car and drive out the driveway and then four houses down to pick up the morning paper. And every time he did the dishes, he broke something we got from our wedding, and then he would refuse to pay for it because we had gotten it for free anyway.
“Fred and I get along, but in a way I think he’s more disapproving than Roger is. Sometimes he acts as if I’ve shocked him so much that he can’t bear to look at me.”
“So how have you shocked him?”
“Didn’t Kevin tell you about Hobbs Nolan?”
“He mentioned him.”
“But Hobbs isn’t the real issue, as far as I’m concerned. Men always think that other men are the real issue. You know, Roger actually sat me down one night and started to tell me off?”
“What’s the real issue?”
“Well, one thing I can’t bear is having to always report in whenever I go somewhere. I mean, I get in the car to go for groceries, and if I decide while I’m out to go to the mall, Kevin expects me to call and tell him. Or if I have to work even a half hour late, or if the girl I work with and I decide to go out for a beer after work. I hate it. I hate picking up the goddamned telephone and dialing all the numbers. I hate listening to it ring, and most of all I hate that automatic self-justification you just slide into. I mean, I don’t know how to sound honest anymore, even when I’m being honest.”
“Are you—”
“No, most of all I hate the image I have of Kevin the whole time I’m talking to him, sitting home all weekend with nothing to do, whining into the phone.”
“I think Kevin is mostly upset because you don’t sleep with him.”
“Well—”
“I really don’t see how you can cut him off like that.”
“Neither does he.”
“Why do you?”
“Don’t you think he’s strange-looking? And everything he does in bed simply repels me. It didn’t used to but now it does. I can’t help it. He doesn’t know how big or strong he is and he’s always hurting me. When I see him move toward me, I wince. I know he’s going to step on me or poke me or bump into me.”
“Well, you could go to a therapist. You ought to at least reassure Kevin that you’re not sleeping with this other guy.”
“We did go to a therapist, and he got so nervous he was