Long Made Short by Stephen Dixon Read Free Book Online Page B

head. “This might help. Dad objected to her because
     of her religion, but you didn’t. You both even met her folks, took them to dinner
     after we got engaged. At a restaurant in the Empire State Building on the ground floor.
     The Showboat, I think it was called. They might even have had some Dixieland music—I
     say that because of the restaurant’s name, and somehow the image of these guys playing
     comes up. Her father was an artist, didn’t do well, but came from old money, which
     there wasn’t much of by the time it came to his turn. Her mother was a playwright
     with a couple of hits in the forties and fifties. Or maybe just the forties, and I
     think both of those were musicals she only did the lyrics or book for. ‘Nelson’ his
     name was, very handsome eloquent man. I forget her name but I think she also wrote
     children’s books or was trying to get one published when I met Ramona, plus still
     doing her plays. You in fact—I just remembered this—at this restaurant, said to her
     father that you immediately can see whom Ramona takes after. He wasn’t blond—neither
     was her mother—but their small noses and green eyes and almost everything else about
     their faces was the same.” “None of it,” she says. “You’d think one small part of
     it would come back. It has to be the day. I had a bad night.” “I’m sorry. Anyway,
     she called me, Ramona did.” “What for?” “Because she still considers me her friend
     after twenty years and would like to see me.” “She married?” and I say “Getting divorced.”
     “She wants to hook up with you again.” “No, she doesn’t. That’s all over.” “Sure she
     does. You have a good job, for life if you want. She probably has lots of expenses
     and mouths to feed and she’s lonely again.” “No, she knows I’m happily married. And
     her husband—one she’s divorcing—is a successful movie or TV producer or something
     with public TV. He does well, anyway, from what I could make out, and I’m sure will
     support her and the two children very well. If she needs it, I’m saying, since she
     has her own independent work.” “You’re still good-looking—” “How would she know that,
     not that I am.” “You are. Don’t underestimate yourself. And why you so sure she knew
     you were married? She wanted to get her hooks into you and, knowing you’re married
     now, she still might. People get desperate when they reach a certain age.” “She’s
     not like that. Everything she said on the phone and that I know about her says that.”
     “How old is she?” “Fifty-three, since she was seven months younger than I. Born in
     January.” “So she knows that nobody’s going to be interested in her now or at least
     not like someone who was in love with her and she ran away from.” “She broke off the
     engagement, she didn’t run away. In fact I saw her for a little while after that and
     then every now and then for about a year. She decided—what did she decide? Well, it
     was like Dad said. That our two religions would make us incompatible after a while,
     since at the time she was so seriously involved with hers. Also, that she knew I’d
     want children right away—I did, mostly to hold her down; I knew she didn’t want to
     get married then—and she wanted to wait till she was in her thirties, so she could
     continue with her acting work. And that’s just what she did, though she got married
     a couple of times before this long one. No, I’m sure she wants to see me just to resume
     our friendship. We were very good that way and did sporadically see each other as
     friends for almost ten years after we stopped being lovers the last time. And nostalgia—people
     do funny things because of it.” “Like what?” and I say “I don’t know—call up a friend
     thirty years later on his birthday from ten thousand miles away because it just flashed
     to them. She didn’t; she’s in Connecticut. Anyway, she