Bodies and Souls by Nancy Thayer Read Free Book Online

hips. He had perfect white teeth and enormous green eyes, thick blond hair that held glints of gold in the summer. Where had he come from, this beautiful man—out of her body? It was amazing. She was so proud of him. Ever since he was a toddler, girls had swarmed around him, and Judy had wondered how in the world he’d ever choose among them, there were so many, such an endless supply. She could imagine how eagerly all those girls offered themselves up to him once he was virile; she had been afraid that he’d make a mistake and get some little fool pregnant. But he had come through his youth into such a triumph Judy was still reeling with the pleasure of it: he had gotten himself engaged to Sarah Stafford, the daughter of the president of one of New England’s most prestigious colleges. If anyone judges me, Judy Bennett thought, let them judge me by my son. She carried him before her like a shield.
    It did not occur to her to think at any moment in her life that people were only seeing her rather than judging her, for she was always judging other people, and she knew precisely how much her charitable actions were a cover for the lack of charity in her heart. Judy judged everyone, herself included, severely and without clemency. It was a habit that had come to her too early and forcefully in her life ever to be changed. Its twin was a devotion to appearances that was obsessive—and she knew it was obsessive and did not care. There were worse obsessions one could have; she knew that, too.
    This Sunday morning Judy had awakened at six-thirty without the aid of an alarm clock. It was a deal she had with her body; she would say to herself before going to bed at night: “It is now ten-thirty. Wake up at six-thirty.” It always worked. She was pleased with her body’s complicity, and her silent waking enabled her to rise from the bed without the noise of an alarm clock waking everyone else in the house. She had wrapped her fleecy robe around her body and gone into the bathroom to brush her long brown hair; she tied it back with a yellow ribbon, knowing that it was a cheerful thing for her son and husband to see a yellow ribbon at breakfast time. Very quietly she had padded down the stairs of the enormous old farmhouse, and through the long hall into the kitchen.
    Which room was the most beautiful in her house? She believed it would be hardfor anyone to say. The front rooms were elegant and a bit formal, but the kitchen was in its own way the most luxurious. It was a large bright room with a fireplace at one end and many windows along the long left wall. Judy had decorated the kitchen in a colonial country style; instead of cabinets she had armoires and pine cupboards, and at the cooking end of the kitchen stood a long pine table. She worked at this table, mixing up cakes or kneading bread, and was still a part of whatever was going on at the other end of the room, where a multicolored braided rug lay before the fireplace and rocking chairs covered with patchwork cushions sat on either side. This morning Bruce, the black Lab, was stretched in the very middle of the rug; Rags and Flapper, the cats, each occupied a rocking chair. The scene was as symmetrical and cozy as if Judy had arranged it herself.
    “Out you go,” she said to them all, opening the kitchen door to the side yard. “Go on now. You’ll get your breakfast in a while.” She did not especially care for the animals except as they decorated her life—she was well aware that people considered animal lovers to be kindhearted and warm-spirited; in short, morally superior to other human beings. Quite often, as Judy washed the floor of muddy tracks or vacuumed up the ubiquitous balls of hair, she thought that the animals’ charm did not quite make up for their bother. But she was committed to appearing to be an animal lover, and she did not want to change.
    This morning the braided rug was still fairly clean, so Judy kicked off her slippers and laid her robe over