The Age of Grief - Jane Smiley [16]
“We should get steak,” Nancy said.
• • •
In the bedroom, putting on her clothes, Lily smiled to hear Nancy’s laugh followed by a laugh from Kevin. Really, he was a good-humored sort of person. Although she could not have said how the visit had failed that morning, or why it was succeeding right then, she sensed their time filling up with possibilities of things they could do together. She heard Nancy say, “I think the coals must be ready by now,” and the slam of the door. She pulled a cotton sweater over her head and went into the kitchen thinking fondly of the Humboldts driving away the next morning with smiles on their faces and reconciliation in their hearts. She hadn’t done anything, really, but something had done the trick. Kevin was sitting at the table wrapping onions and potatoes in foil. Lily opened the refrigerator and took out a large stalk of broccoli, which she began to slice for steaming. Kevin had put on a light-blue tailored shirt and creased corduroy slacks. His wet hair was combed back and he had shaved. He said, “Why did you stick with Diamond all those years? I mean”—he looked at her cautiously—”wasn’t it obvious that you weren’t going to get anything out of it?”
“I got a lot out of it. Ken’s problem is that nobody thinks he’s anything special but me. I do think he’s quite special, though, and I think I got a good education, lots of attention, lots of affection, and lots of time to work. It wasn’t what I expected but it wasn’t so bad. Though I wish there had been some way to practice having another type of relationship at the same time, or even just having dates.”
“What did he think about your winning the prize?”
“I don’t know. I broke up with him right after I applied for it, and I didn’t read the letter he sent after I got it.”
“Last night, you know when you were asking—” Lily glanced up, alert. Kevin coughed. “Well, I thought about something. All the guys were so afraid of you in college. They all talked about you, you know, and watched you from a distance.” He faded, then went on, uncertainly. “Your, ah, eyes were so big, you know. It is disconcerting when you—”
But the door opened and Nancy swept in. “The coals are perfect! Are these the steaks in here? I’m famished! Guess what? I got three big ears of corn from your neighbor, who was out in his garden. He’s cute. What’s his name? He was funny, and awfully nice to me.”
“I’ve never even spoken to the guy,” Lily said.
“What do you do? Cross the street when you see an attractive man?”
“It’s not that. It’s that some curse renders me invisible. But Kevin was about to say something.”
He shrugged.
“Put on you by Professor Kenneth Diamond, no doubt,” Nancy said. She handed a potato back to Kevin. “Do that one better. The skin shows. Seriously, Lily”—Kevin took the potato back with a careful, restrained gesture—”you can’t keep this up. It’s impossible. You’re the most beautiful woman anyone we know knows. You have to at least act like you’re interested. I’m sure you act like you wouldn’t go on a date for a million dollars. You don’t prostitute yourself simply by being friendly.” Kevin rewrapped the potato and handed it back to Nancy. Then he smiled at Lily and she had a brief feeling that something dramatic had been averted, although she couldn’t say what it was. Nancy ripped the paper off the rib eyes and dropped it on the table. The Humboldts went outside to put on the meat, and when they came back in, Lily couldn’t see how to lead Kevin back to his earlier remark.
The wine was nearly finished. Kevin had chosen it, a California red that he’d tried in Vancouver. He kept saying, “I was lucky to find this so far east. That isn’t a bad liquor store, really.” Lily hadn’t especially liked it at first because of its harsh flavor and thick consistency, but after three glasses she was sorry to see the second bottle close to empty. She set it carefully upright in the grass.