The Age of Grief by Jane Smiley Read Free Book Online Page B

game that I was playing. I have news for you—”
    “It was a community-theater production! You weren’tputting on Shakespeare or Chekhov, either. And it’s not as if Bill Henry had directed in Toronto, much less in New York.”
    “He’s done lights in New York! He did lights on
The Fantasticks!
And on
A Chorus Line!”
    “Big deal.”
    Nancy leaped to her feet. “I’ll tell you something, mister. You owe it to me to put me through whatever school I want to go to, no matter what happens to our relationship or our marriage. I slaved in the purchasing department of that university for three years so that you could go to business school full time. I lived with those crummy friends of yours for four years so we could save on mortgage—”
    Lily said, “Nancy—”
    Kevin said, “What do you mean, ‘no matter what happens to our relationship’? What do you mean by that?”
    “You know perfectly well what I mean! Lily knows what I mean, too!”
    Lily pressed herself deep into her chair, hoping that neither of them would address her, but Kevin turned to face her. In the darkness his deep-set eyes were nearly invisible, so that when he said, “What did she tell you?” Lily could not decide what would be the best reply to make. He stepped between her and Nancy and demanded, “What did she say?”
    “I think you should ask her that.”
    “She won’t tell me anything. You tell me.” He took a step toward her. “You tell me whether she still loves me. I want to know that. That’s all I want to know.” The tone of his voice in the dark was earnest and nearly calm.
    “That’s between you and Nancy. Ask her. It’s not my business.”
    “But you know. And I’ve asked her. She’s said yes somany times to that question that it doesn’t mean anything anymore. You tell me. Does she still love me?”
    “She hasn’t told me anything.”
    “But you have your own opinion, don’t you?”
    “I can’t see that that’s significant in any way.”
    “Tell me what it is. Does she still love me?”
    He seemed, with his chest, to be bearing down on her as she sat. She had lost all sense of where Nancy was, even whether she was still outside. Wherever she was, she was not coming to Lily’s aid. Perhaps she too was waiting for Lily’s opinion. Lily said, “No.”
    “No, what? Is that your opinion?”
    Surely Nancy would have stepped in by now. “No, it doesn’t seem to me that she loves you anymore.” Lily broke into a sweat the moment she stopped speaking, a sweat of instant regret. Kevin stepped back and Lily saw that Nancy was behind him, still and silent on the chaise longue. “Oh, Lord,” said Lily, standing up and taking her glass into the house.
    The Humboldts stayed outside for a long time. Lily washed the dishes and got ready for bed; she was sitting on the cot in the guest room winding her clock when Nancy knocked on the door and came in. “We had a long talk,” she said, “and things are all right.”
    “Did you—”
    “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. This may be the best thing. At least I feel that I’ve gotten some things clear. And I think we’re going to leave very early in the morning, so I wish you wouldn’t get up.”
    “But I—” Lily looked at Nancy for a moment, and then said, “Okay, I won’t. Thanks for stopping.”
    “You can’t mean that, but I’ll write.” She closed the door and Lily put her feet under the sheet. There were no sounds, and after a while she fell asleep. She awoke to a rhythmic knocking. She thought at first of the door, but remembered that Nancy had closed it firmly. Then she realized that the blows were against the wall beside her head. She tried to visualize the other room. It would be the bed, and they would be making love. She picked up her clock and turned it to catch light from the street. It was just after midnight. She had been asleep, although deeply, for only an hour. The knocking stopped and started again, and it was irregular enough