Why are there no lights on?
Because there aren’t.
Do you like the dark?
No, I don’t.
Why don’t you turn on the lights?
Because I don’t want to get up.
Ben stood in the room, not understanding his wife.
There were no lights on. It was zero degrees and the house was cold. Ben had said he was out doing winter sports. She didn’t believe him. She had heard the woman’s voice on the phone. He had the gall to call her while Rose was home.
It bored her. She didn’t say anything about it. There was no point. She had gone away to a hotel in the fall and he had called. So they weren’t divorced, they weren’t getting a divorce. They were Hillary and Bill. Some couple like that.
Rose was under the blanket. It was an old wool blanket she had had for years. To tell the truth it itched. She didn’t like to throw it out because it had belonged to her mother. She pulled up the chair in front of the window and looked out the window at the stars. She was listening to music, an opera on a CD, something that Ben had been playing at dinner yesterday. Looking at the stars always comforted her. It was dark beside the river at night. She realized more and more what a lovely view they had. She and Ben shared the view only because they had met at an open house. If Ben hadn’t wanted the house, would she be married to him?
She didn’t like to think like that. She genuinely loved Ben.
Why didn’t you go with me? he asked.
I hate winter sports. I only like indoor sports in winter.
Indoor sports?
Yes. There’s one I like.
He groaned. I’m too old. Have a heart.
I don’t think you’re too old.
He went into the other room. When was the last time...? She didn’t like to think. If she weren’t on antidepressants, she would never put up with this.
What about Megan? she yelled into the other room.
No answer. He didn’t hear or didn’t care.
Ben had said nothing about Megan before he went out supposedly snowboarding . She knew that he was in fact with some woman. Did his saying nothing mean Megan was safe and that Dreary the drug dealer wouldn’t go after her? All day Rose worried about Megan , partly because her work took half a mind. She was finishing the finance office building, nothing to it, and beginning a mall. A mall! She swore every time she thought of the mall. She wanted to shape it like a big X, X marks the spot, but it wouldn’t be allowed. Maybe she could get away with a V, after Thomas Pynchon’s book, which they had read in college.
Since Ben didn’t want to have sex (she would have to keep a calendar), she decided to watch one of her favorite romantic comedies. What would it be? Four Weddings and a Funeral? About a Boy? Something with Hugh Grant. He was perfect in everything. Now if only she looked like Andie MacDowell or Julia Roberts or Rachel Somebody-or-other. But in fact she looked nothing like them. She was a menopausal woman, no longer fertile, no longer pretty. it didn’t usually sadden her. Character. She had character. She didn’t miss being young. She didn’t miss tampons. All the usual had happened: blood on white pants when she was caught without a tampon, gushing periods where she had to change pads every hour, and a period that never stopped when her cycle first became messed up.
I’m going to call Megan. Is there anything I should tell her?
Get out of the house! he yelled back.
She called Megan. After a while a foggy voice said, Hello?
Megan, are you still there? Didn’t you go to your friend’s house?
I’m all right. A neighbor is staying with me. Some men came by last night and yelled in the front yard.
Wow. That sounds really scary.
It was terrifying. Like having the boys you always wanted to like you show up late at night. only it turns out they hate your guts instead of have a crush on you. My neighbor went out and dealt with them.
And he spent the night?
Yeah. I’m off the drugs. It makes a big difference.
You want sex again?
Well, I think the dope anaesthetized me.
Megan!
Oh, I’m so old I can say anything I want.
Megan has a boyfriend...
No, not really. It won’t last.
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