I'm Fine and Neither Are You(68)

“Not at all,” I said. “I’m proud of you for finishing the proposal so quickly.” I had read parts of it on the car ride to New York, and it was excellent—smart, often funny, and surprisingly engaging, particularly considering I wasn’t exactly his target audience.

Now he was trying not to smile; I could tell. “I wouldn’t say it’s finished, per se. I’m still obsessively editing.”

“But for all intents and purposes, it’s done.”

“Yes, I guess that’s true,” he said. “We have an hour to kill before you head to dinner with the girls. Do you want to go walk around?”

I wondered if he was hoping I would say, No, let’s go make love. In the past that was exactly what we would have done after arriving at our destination—at least, it was before we had children. The conversation we’d just had left me feeling warmer toward him. Connected, even—though I hated to admit it for fear of jinxing us. Still, I couldn’t shake Christina from my mind. Had he been attracted to her before Jenny’s death, back when we were still at least sporadically sleeping together? If so, was he longing for her as he reached for me? Oh, how I wished I hadn’t always turned the lights off all the time. How easy it must have been to imagine—if not her curves, then her face, when mine was shrouded in darkness.

At any rate, you didn’t just turn off attraction like a switch. Try as he might, there was no way she wouldn’t be in his thoughts if we made love. Maybe he would even say her name when he came. I would rather not sleep with him than risk having that happen.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go for a walk.”



“Oh my God, look at you!” The minute Harue saw me, she got up from her seat at the bar and began jumping up and down, glass still in hand. She was wearing bright-red glasses and a denim romper that would have made people think I was a farmhand. She looked fantastic.

I laughed as I leaned away from her. “I’m happy to see you, too, but not so happy I want to take a wine bath.”

Alex had risen from her barstool, but not before glancing at the couple hovering behind her, daring either of them to try taking her spot. She wore black on black, and her mouth was a gash of magenta. “Darling, so good to see you,” she said, hugging us both. “You’ll love this place. You must try the pork belly.”

“You’re back on meat?” I said with surprise.

“Vegetarianism was impractical.” She leaned in and said in a pretend whisper, “And I’m thinner when I up my protein.”

Harue sniffed. “Traitor.”

I laughed. “You guys are the exact same.”

“Nothing stays the same,” said Alex. “It just doesn’t change all at one time, thank God. So, how is your loved-up trip away from your perfect children?” She looked at Harue and rolled her eyes.

“Goals, Alex,” said Harue. “I can’t manage to stay married for more than two years, but Penny and Sanjay—” She looked me. “How long has it been now? Three decades?”

I swatted at her. “Very funny. Eleven years.”

“What’s your better half up to tonight?” asked Alex.

“He’s grabbing takeout and putting the finishing touches on his proposal. Thank you again for your help with that,” I added.

“My total pleasure.”

The hostess appeared and told us our table was ready. Once we were seated, Alex said, “I’m thrilled about Sanjay’s project, but to be blunt, Pen, I thought you’d be the one I’d be talking about book deals with. Remember that story you wrote? About the little girl who loved dumplings?” she said, referring to a draft I’d written right before Stevie was born.

“It needed work,” I said lamely, because it, like so many other things in my post-childfree life, had been abandoned for more pressing matters.

“Still, it was great.”

“Thank you,” I said shyly.

“Remember those funny poems you used to write about us at Hudson ? ‘Harue, Harue! The animals adore you—shunning bacon and burgers, too. Because you know what they do: Meat is murder!’” She laughed as she recited my ditty in a sing-song voice.

I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “I can’t believe you remember that. That was literally fifteen years ago.”

“It was catchy! What are you working on lately?” she said.

“My marriage,” I said.

“Ha-ha.”

“No, seriously. Sanjay and I have had some tough times lately. We’ve been working through it, but it hasn’t been fun. We’re trying to be more honest about what we need and what we want each other to change.” Maybe because honesty had become my new norm, this confession came easy.

“I’m glad, because if you two don’t make it, then love is dead,” said Harue.

Funny—I could imagine myself saying something just like that to Jenny before I knew what I did now. “Marriage is hard,” I said. “At least, mine is.”

“You’re telling me! If it weren’t, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten divorced twice,” said Harue. “But what about work? Alex is right—I’m glad you’re doing so well at the university, but we all thought that was a short-term gig.”