Read Online Bad Connections by Joyce Johnson - Free Book Online

in her position. I thought I would much rather know immediately, painful as it would be. I would suffer intensely for a time and then get on with my life. Although when I reflected upon the curious staying power I’d demonstrated during my marriage, I wasn’t so sure of my own ability to cut loose from a hopeless situation. And I was even less sure when I asked myself how long I was going to give Conrad to work things out.
    I longed for an accident that would reveal everything to Roberta—something quite out of Conrad’s responsibility or control. As my obsession grew, I brooded upon possible ways in which knowledge could be communicated to her—scenarios like an encounter between the three of us in a crowded delicatessen, a chance meeting with her on Broadway as Conrad and I walked with our arms linked in a manner immediately suggesting intimacy. I rather dreaded the idea of such a confrontation, imagining her distress. And there was always the possibility that Conrad would rise to the occasion and introduce me as a client. And then there’d be the question of what I’d do.
    I wanted to believe that I would boldly seize the opportunity to expose the truth—even at the risk of alienating Conrad temporarily. And yet I could also imagine myself standing there in silence, immobilized, as Roberta’s eyes searched our guilty faces, her voice shook as she said she was glad to meet me. It was as if we had exchanged places in the fantasies I used to have when I was married—wherein I tracked Fred down to the dark booth in Max’s Kansas City where he was ensconced with his current twenty-two-year-old. I remember being quite aware that those long-limbed nymphs of Fred’s owed me nothing. How could I expect them to defer to a marriage so obviously little valued? Nonetheless, I’d seen myself as a figure of wrath and grief, with justice on my side.
    I had known about Fred of course. Without knowing the particulars, I had known and chosen to stay, however mistakenly. Despite Conrad’s concern for her emotional well-being, Roberta, deprived of knowledge, was deprived of choice as well—and was thus in an intolerable position if she only knew it. As for me, I was in the consciously intolerable position of knowing all sides—or so I thought.
    There is a corner bus stop on Seventy-second Street just after the Fifth Avenue bus makes the turn off Riverside Drive. She is sitting near the front of the bus with her child that Sunday. It is not quite noon and there are a number of empty seats behind them. She has been looking out of the window with only mild interest because the route is so familiar to her. A man and woman wait at the bus stop. The bus comes to a halt, the doors open to let them on. The woman is in her early twenties, tall and slender with short curly brown hair. She is dressed in perfectly fitting jeans with an expensive green suede jacket. She is laughing in a very animated way at something her escort has just said, tossing her curly head back, tilting her face upward toward his. She waits for him as he searches his pockets for change. The man with her is Conrad, in a new navy blue turtleneck sweater that goes very well with his eyes. There is no doubt about it, they are a handsome couple.
    â€œLook Mom, there’s Conrad,” Matthew says. “Hey Conrad! We’re going to the zoo.”
    Conrad turns. His face stiffens slightly. Then he waves to Matthew with a big smile. By now he has found his change and he pays the fare. As he and the young woman pass the seat where she and Matthew are sitting, he pauses for a moment and says “Hello, Molly,” in a voice that seems louder than necessary.
    She is quite unable to answer. Turning away, she barely manages to nod. She can feel her left cheek, the one that is closest to the aisle, burning. No force on earth will make her look at him, will make her glance behind her as he and the young woman move on