want is for you to egg him on.”
“Please don’t castigate me for this.”
“But didn’t you realize the danger you put your roommate in? The danger you put yourself in? These crazy people didn’t just start killing doctors a couple of days ago, John. And you don’t even know if the thing works. I just can’t believe you’d go to some back-alley Guatemalan Dr. Nick to get your life fixed.”
“He wasn’t some quack,” I said defensively. “He was a legitimate doctor with a well-known practice.”
“Yet he chose to engage in some shady side business. Why is that?”
“It was just some ego thing.”
“And that doesn’t bother you, even now? I saw the doctor Mark wanted to visit to get it done. His name was Frankie, and he looked like he stole furniture out of trucks. I’ve heard that some of the people offering to do it aren’t even real doctors. They’re like chiropractors times ten. I’m not judging you for getting it. I’m just worried about you. That’s all.”
“I’m grateful for that, P. I really am. But I’m fine. Mentally, I’m a disaster. But physically I feel fine. Great, as odd as that sounds.”
She grew a touch curious. “So you think it really works, then.”
“We won’t know for a while. I’ve been taking a photo of my face every day just to see if there are any changes over time I don’t readily notice.”
“And you’re not worried about, you know, hogging all the food and stuff ?”
“I promise I won’t eat all the Nilla Wafers in the house, like last time.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. There’s a reason people are fighting so fiercely to keep this cure out of people’s hands. You don’t have kids. I do. I think about this stuff. I think about what’ll be left for them.”
“So you’re never going to get it? And you’ll never let Mark get it?”
She let out a low groan. “I have no idea. I really don’t. I’m guessing there will be a point when it’s legal and everyone has it and I feel obligated to get it too. I was like that with cell phones. I was easily the last of my friends to get one. Everyone else had one. And there I was, outside school at some disgusting pay phone that didn’t even work. Now, of course, I have one and I’ll never go back. That’s how I am. I usually have to be dragged into things. I know it’s probably inevitable that I’ll get the cure and that we’ll all get it. It’s just gonna be something you do. But it opens up all sorts of odd questions that I don’t want to deal with right now. I mean, what happens to Mark and me?”
“Are you guys having problems?”
“No! Not at all. But it’s a whole weird thing, to think you’ll be with someone for that long. I love him, and I’m willing to do it. It’s just . . . daunting. And the kids . . . Jesus. You become a parent, and your whole life becomes about worrying. You just worry constantly whether they’ll be okay. And the idea that I’ll be worried forever about them and what they do . . . I almost have a panic attack when I think about it. I’m worried, and I’m worried about having to worry so goddamn much.”
I told her about all the bankers getting divorced.
“Oh, Christ,” she said. “Don’t tell me that.”
“Sorry.”
“See, that completely freaks me out. One day we’ll get it, and Mark’s friends will all say, ‘Hey, what are you still doing with that old bag?’ ”
“But you won’t be old.”
“But I’m old already. I have two kids. That makes you old. So then I have that to worry about. Do I have the ability to keep my husband happy for centuries upon centuries? Do I need to get lipo so that I can look like some perky goddamn cheerleader? I have no earthly idea, and I don’t like the idea of having to confront all those issues somewhere down the road. Right now my whole life is plagued with decisions that have to be made: what to get for dinner, which school the kids should go to, which kid’s birthday party we should
“Please don’t castigate me for this.”
“But didn’t you realize the danger you put your roommate in? The danger you put yourself in? These crazy people didn’t just start killing doctors a couple of days ago, John. And you don’t even know if the thing works. I just can’t believe you’d go to some back-alley Guatemalan Dr. Nick to get your life fixed.”
“He wasn’t some quack,” I said defensively. “He was a legitimate doctor with a well-known practice.”
“Yet he chose to engage in some shady side business. Why is that?”
“It was just some ego thing.”
“And that doesn’t bother you, even now? I saw the doctor Mark wanted to visit to get it done. His name was Frankie, and he looked like he stole furniture out of trucks. I’ve heard that some of the people offering to do it aren’t even real doctors. They’re like chiropractors times ten. I’m not judging you for getting it. I’m just worried about you. That’s all.”
“I’m grateful for that, P. I really am. But I’m fine. Mentally, I’m a disaster. But physically I feel fine. Great, as odd as that sounds.”
She grew a touch curious. “So you think it really works, then.”
“We won’t know for a while. I’ve been taking a photo of my face every day just to see if there are any changes over time I don’t readily notice.”
“And you’re not worried about, you know, hogging all the food and stuff ?”
“I promise I won’t eat all the Nilla Wafers in the house, like last time.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. There’s a reason people are fighting so fiercely to keep this cure out of people’s hands. You don’t have kids. I do. I think about this stuff. I think about what’ll be left for them.”
“So you’re never going to get it? And you’ll never let Mark get it?”
She let out a low groan. “I have no idea. I really don’t. I’m guessing there will be a point when it’s legal and everyone has it and I feel obligated to get it too. I was like that with cell phones. I was easily the last of my friends to get one. Everyone else had one. And there I was, outside school at some disgusting pay phone that didn’t even work. Now, of course, I have one and I’ll never go back. That’s how I am. I usually have to be dragged into things. I know it’s probably inevitable that I’ll get the cure and that we’ll all get it. It’s just gonna be something you do. But it opens up all sorts of odd questions that I don’t want to deal with right now. I mean, what happens to Mark and me?”
“Are you guys having problems?”
“No! Not at all. But it’s a whole weird thing, to think you’ll be with someone for that long. I love him, and I’m willing to do it. It’s just . . . daunting. And the kids . . . Jesus. You become a parent, and your whole life becomes about worrying. You just worry constantly whether they’ll be okay. And the idea that I’ll be worried forever about them and what they do . . . I almost have a panic attack when I think about it. I’m worried, and I’m worried about having to worry so goddamn much.”
I told her about all the bankers getting divorced.
“Oh, Christ,” she said. “Don’t tell me that.”
“Sorry.”
“See, that completely freaks me out. One day we’ll get it, and Mark’s friends will all say, ‘Hey, what are you still doing with that old bag?’ ”
“But you won’t be old.”
“But I’m old already. I have two kids. That makes you old. So then I have that to worry about. Do I have the ability to keep my husband happy for centuries upon centuries? Do I need to get lipo so that I can look like some perky goddamn cheerleader? I have no earthly idea, and I don’t like the idea of having to confront all those issues somewhere down the road. Right now my whole life is plagued with decisions that have to be made: what to get for dinner, which school the kids should go to, which kid’s birthday party we should
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