Freezing

On a freezing day in Pennsylvania Megan did not get dressed. Jim said goodbye at seven. Megan squinted at him. She was not usually up at seven. She did not understand seven in the morning. Glowering, she pulled a Kinks sweatshirt (a relic bought on e-bayn) over her nightgown and then pulled on stretch pants. She went downstairs and stuck her new slippers in the new microwave. Jim bought her anything she wanted, including the slippers you heated up in the microwave. He had bought her an enormous collection of CDs and a couple of her favorite DVDs. She was a little stunned by this. She had never been especially materialistic.

Rose called. Megan saw Rose's number on Caller ID. Jim had also bought the new answering machine/Caller ID system.

I’m not home, she told Rose.

Really? I hear something. Are you smoking a cigarette?

She puffed out some smoke. Yes. I’ve turned to cigarettes.

You don’t need cigarettes if you’re having sex.

I bought two packs. Then I’m done.

Really?

I’m not here anyway. This isn't really Megan.

Why did you pick up?

The phone is right here next to the couch. I’m not real.

Well, i’m calling because I’ve moved out. At last! Want my new address?

Very much!

Megan was surprised. She hadn’t expected Rose to decamp from the river house. All Megan had ever heard was how tremendous it was to live there and how Rose did not need anything showier. Megan did not think the house was much, though she admitted the river was fantastic. Ben could not afford anything better. God, how Megan hated Ben. She thought Ben was a freeloader, a guy who could earn good money but chose to mooch off Rose, a guy who would doubtless go to hell for adultery, if there were a hell, which there wasn’t. For months Megan had told Rose to leave him. Now apparently she had.

How is the new house?

It’s huge. The rooms are huge. I did the floors and had Dorrie and Gabrielle paint the walls before I moved in.

When do I visit?

You’re in a relationship so you can’t.

Megan laughed. You’re right.

But I haven’t seen Dorrie and Gabrielle’s rooms. They don’t seem eager for visits. And they say they don’t mind the chocolate brown walls.

They literally don’t, Rose. Dorrie doesn’t care because she’s crazy and this other girl is a heroin addict! What the hell are you doing?

Rose sighed. They’re a buffer between Ben and me. He wanted to move in and of course he can’t because Dorrie is here. He told me he wanted to move in anyway, though.

Megan laughed. She couldn’t help it. Ben got everything he wanted. He would keep trying Rose. He would give her roses, classical dictionaries, anything he could think of. He would agree to send her back to school to get a Ph.D. And if Rose didn’t let him move in, he would install a chippie/mistress in the river house.

When Megan got off the phone, she felt sad because she knew Rose was trying not to cry. She knew why Rose had been married to Ben for over ten years. He was charming, he claimed he loved her. And Rose had been brought up on the usual crap: romance, Gothic novels, movies. And then there had been Bonnie Raitt. They had all listened to Raitt. Her songs about relationships were so mournful, the beaux so bad. That’s what women were supposed to put up with. Megan didn’t know that the singers were any better now. Role models? She thought not. She had heard Norah Jones on The Today Show or Good Morning America and had been surprised by how downbeat and Raitt-like she sounded. A pretty singer, maybe not “foxy” like Raitt (Ben’s word, not Megan’s or Rose’s), but another melancholy woman.

Megan turned off the TV and began to read about Eugene Debs. What could be more obvious? She decided she had to include him. He went to prison in 1919 f for criticizing the U.S. involvement in World War I and its persecution of people for sedition. Besides founding a railroad union and speaking out against the government, he ran for the presidency as a Socialist candidate five times. He was the nominee of the Social Democratic Party in 1900, and of the Socialist Party in 1904, 1908, 1912, and 1920. In short, he was Megan’s kind of guy.

Megan’s new boyfriend wasn’t perfect. Jim hated socialism and hated hearing about Eugene Debs. He thought she should take a job as a journalist or go back to school.

You’re wasting your life.

Oh for God’s sake, I’ll waste my life if I want to, she’d snapped.

Wasting her life indeed. He was a lawyer. He was wasting his life, too. She didn’t bother to tell him that.

They enjoyed each other’s company. But she believed that he might move next door again sometime soon. He had other obligations. When he brought his 17-year-old son over to meet her, it was a disaster. The boy didn’t want to think of anyone else in his mother’s place. Who could blame him? She could hardly tell him she didn’t intend to take his mother’s place.

But Jim and Megan’s biggest quarrel was about Hillary Clinton. Did either one care deeply about her? No. But Jim didn’t believe Senator Clinton had any business running.

I’m going to vote socialist so it doesn’t matter to me but why don’t you want her to run?

Because she’ll split the field so the men who might win won’t have a chance.

Ridiculous. If she gets the nomination, more power to her.

She can’t win.

Megan stared at him. Never discuss politics with your lover.