The Wife Upstairs(38)

“I got most of your clothes for you,” I replied, “except for that godawful houndstooth tie you like. That was all you.”

He smiled a little at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I love that tie.”

Well, now you can wear it all the time, I guess.

The words were right there, a pithy comeback, the kind of thing he used to like from me. But I held my tongue because I knew it would just make him leave. And I needed him to stay.

“It did look good on you,” I said. “Which was very irritating.”

A snort, then he turned for the door, and was gone. I’d wanted him to linger, to keep talking, and it was hard not to feel disappointed. But there was a looseness to him as he left that hadn’t been there when he came in.

It’s a start.



* * *




OCTOBER, THREE MONTHS AFTER BLANCHE

Eddie came back today, which surprised me. He’d just been here yesterday, and I was used to waiting three days between visits, counting the time as best as I can up here.

He brought more food and water with him, but I still had plenty, and after he dropped them off, he just stood there by the door for a long while, his hands in his back pockets.

“Do you want some more books?” he finally asked, and it took me a minute to respond.

“That would be great,” I said, and meant it. He doesn’t know I’ve been using this one as a journal, and I could really use some more reading material.

He nodded and, as he left, said, “Bye, Bea.”

He hasn’t done that before. It’s the first time I’ve heard my own name in weeks.



* * *



Another day, another visit from Eddie. He’s coming every day now. Not staying long, and twice now, he’s been here while I’ve been asleep, and I wonder if that means he’s coming at night. I don’t have the best sense of night and day right now, but I still sleep, and I assume that I must be keeping a semi-regular schedule. I don’t know why he’d suddenly be coming up at night, though.

But no, I told myself that I can’t do that, can’t try to guess at his reasons or his motives. If I do that, I’ll go crazy.

Well, crazier.



* * *



Eddie stayed for an hour today. Maybe longer.

He didn’t even bother bringing food and water, and for the first time since I woke up in here, I felt something in my chest loosen, like I could breathe again.

He’d brought me books like he promised, and as soon as he came in, I held up one of them, a political thriller I remembered him reading. “This was maybe the stupidest book I’ve ever read,” I told him, and he crossed the room, taking it from my hand, studying the cover.

“Is this the one where they replace the president with a clone?”

“It was the vice president,” I reminded him, “but yes.”

Reading the back, Eddie smiled faintly. “I bought it in an airport. No one can be judged for the books they buy in airports.”

“I remember that,” I said, and suddenly I did. We’d been going to a conference in Atlanta. Well, I’d been going to the conference. Eddie had come with me so he could go to some football game there the same weekend.

“Women and Leadership, Leaders and Womanhood,” I said. “Some workshop like that. Three days of lectures with titles like, ‘A Gentle Hand: Commanding Respect without Fear,’ and ‘Women on Top.’”

He smiled. “You hated that shit.”

“I did,” I replied, nodding. “That one was especially bad, though.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, remembering that weekend, how miserable and bored I’d felt, overdressed in my pencil skirts, wasting my time.

I could still see the woman who led one of the group workshops, standing in front of us, her hair short and prematurely gray, a cream-colored cashmere cardigan nearly swallowing her birdlike frame.

“We keep so many things in our brains,” she’d said. “More than men do. They’re allowed to only worry about business, while we have to worry about business and our families. Our children. I bet if I were to ask a male CEO, ‘How much milk do you have in your fridge right this second?’ he’d have no idea. But all of you know.”

The woman had smiled, beatific, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You all know, don’t you?”

A wave of chuckles and knowing nods, and I’d looked around thinking, Are all of you for fucking real?

I told Eddie that story now, and he laughed, folding his arms across his chest. “Right, but every day, when I got back to the room and asked how your day had gone, you’d said, ‘Fine.’”

I shrugged. “What was I supposed to say? I was the one who’d chosen to go. I didn’t want to admit that you were right, and it was a waste of time.”

I didn’t add that things had been strained between us then. That we’d been arguing more, even before Blanche and her renovations.

I didn’t want him to remember that.

“That weekend wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for me, either. I ended up giving my ticket to the Falcons game to one of my clients, so I think I mostly watched ESPN in the hotel room and ate bad room service.”

He glanced around then, and I realized he was looking for a place to sit.