nose again, feeling as though the world had come to an end. And in a sense it had. And just as she hung up the phone, the teen-agers came thundering in, eleven of them. Jason, Alexandra, Alyssa, and their friends.
What's for lunch? Jason smiled at her, seeing no evidence of the tears she had just shed. He looked almost exactly like Jack when they'd first met. And Alexandra looked a lot like him too, although they both had her red hair. But other than that, none of them looked even remotely like her.
Turning her back to them, so they couldn't see her damp eyes, she took the tray of sandwiches she'd made out of the refrigerator. There was ham, bologna, turkey, several combinations, and half a dozen BLTs, and carrying handfuls of them and three six-packs of Coke, they all disappeared again, as she sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh. It was over. All over for her. Jack had won in the end, and he didn't even know it. And then, as though just thinking of him had made him materialize, she heard a car in the drive, and glanced out the window to see his familiar silver Mercedes grind to a halt as he bounded out. He still looked like a very young man, and his blond hair hid the gray she knew was there. He was athletic and in good shape, and looked far less than his forty-three years, but there was something unkind about his eyes, and a hardness to his mouth, that hadn't been there years before. He had good looks, but he lacked warmth, and even now, as he came through the kitchen door, he didn't smile at her, didn't see the grief so obvious in her eyes. In fact, he never really even looked at her.
Hi, honey, what brings you home? She smiled, as he turned his back and reached into the refrigerator for a beer.
I had a meeting nearby and thought I'd come home for lunch. He turned and seemed to eye her from the neck down, his eyes never meeting hers. He loosened his tie, and took a sip of the beer right from the can. He had tossed his jacket on a chair, and she could see the muscles ripple beneath his shirt. He played tennis almost every day when he got home. He and Jason were lethal on the courts. Jane had never learned to play well, and they hated playing with her. You're not working at the hospital today?
I'm off for the summer. Remember? She smiled again, and this time he smiled back.
Yeah. That's right. I always forget. He eyed the ripe luscious body, and seemed to lose interest in all else. Been out by the pool? He provided well for them. He provided everything. Pool, cars, clothes for her and the kids, rented house in La Jolla every year, vacation in Hawaii over the Christmas holiday, yet it always seemed to her that there was so much he didn't share, so much he couldn't give. Like himself. He was always so distant, and he never talked to her.
I was keeping an eye on the kids. They always exchanged banalities, and little more. He never told her about his work, never had, and he seldom talked about his friends at work.
Did you get the stuff I wanted for La Jolla next week? He had given her a precise list of fishing gear he wanted replaced.
I haven't had time. I'll do it this afternoon.
But suddenly it felt as though the world had come to an end. Hadn't it, she wondered, as he approached, and stuck two fingers down the front of her tiny black elastic pants. He found what he was looking for and plunged in, hurting her, but she said nothing to him.
Got time for something else? It was a rhetorical question. She had never said no to him. He had already set down his beer and grabbed her breast with his other hand. His mouth crushed down on hers and he bit her lips. Wanna fuck? She was used to the way he said it by now. After twenty years, the brutality of the way he made love to her no longer shocked or surprised. It was simply the way Jack was these days. It had been different when they first met. He was gentler then, but once they were married, things had gradually changed, and it was as though he were crazed to possess
What's for lunch? Jason smiled at her, seeing no evidence of the tears she had just shed. He looked almost exactly like Jack when they'd first met. And Alexandra looked a lot like him too, although they both had her red hair. But other than that, none of them looked even remotely like her.
Turning her back to them, so they couldn't see her damp eyes, she took the tray of sandwiches she'd made out of the refrigerator. There was ham, bologna, turkey, several combinations, and half a dozen BLTs, and carrying handfuls of them and three six-packs of Coke, they all disappeared again, as she sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh. It was over. All over for her. Jack had won in the end, and he didn't even know it. And then, as though just thinking of him had made him materialize, she heard a car in the drive, and glanced out the window to see his familiar silver Mercedes grind to a halt as he bounded out. He still looked like a very young man, and his blond hair hid the gray she knew was there. He was athletic and in good shape, and looked far less than his forty-three years, but there was something unkind about his eyes, and a hardness to his mouth, that hadn't been there years before. He had good looks, but he lacked warmth, and even now, as he came through the kitchen door, he didn't smile at her, didn't see the grief so obvious in her eyes. In fact, he never really even looked at her.
Hi, honey, what brings you home? She smiled, as he turned his back and reached into the refrigerator for a beer.
I had a meeting nearby and thought I'd come home for lunch. He turned and seemed to eye her from the neck down, his eyes never meeting hers. He loosened his tie, and took a sip of the beer right from the can. He had tossed his jacket on a chair, and she could see the muscles ripple beneath his shirt. He played tennis almost every day when he got home. He and Jason were lethal on the courts. Jane had never learned to play well, and they hated playing with her. You're not working at the hospital today?
I'm off for the summer. Remember? She smiled again, and this time he smiled back.
Yeah. That's right. I always forget. He eyed the ripe luscious body, and seemed to lose interest in all else. Been out by the pool? He provided well for them. He provided everything. Pool, cars, clothes for her and the kids, rented house in La Jolla every year, vacation in Hawaii over the Christmas holiday, yet it always seemed to her that there was so much he didn't share, so much he couldn't give. Like himself. He was always so distant, and he never talked to her.
I was keeping an eye on the kids. They always exchanged banalities, and little more. He never told her about his work, never had, and he seldom talked about his friends at work.
Did you get the stuff I wanted for La Jolla next week? He had given her a precise list of fishing gear he wanted replaced.
I haven't had time. I'll do it this afternoon.
But suddenly it felt as though the world had come to an end. Hadn't it, she wondered, as he approached, and stuck two fingers down the front of her tiny black elastic pants. He found what he was looking for and plunged in, hurting her, but she said nothing to him.
Got time for something else? It was a rhetorical question. She had never said no to him. He had already set down his beer and grabbed her breast with his other hand. His mouth crushed down on hers and he bit her lips. Wanna fuck? She was used to the way he said it by now. After twenty years, the brutality of the way he made love to her no longer shocked or surprised. It was simply the way Jack was these days. It had been different when they first met. He was gentler then, but once they were married, things had gradually changed, and it was as though he were crazed to possess
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