The Red Car by Marcy Dermansky Read Free Book Online

was looking at me. I had taken my jeans off. I was wearing striped cotton underwear. Of course, he would have ideas. Hans always wanted to have sex with me. I mean, that made sense, we were married. Some people would say that was a good thing, but I almost never wanted to havesex. It was fine, sex, when we had it. I just never wanted to. I hastily picked up a pair of gray leggings off the floor and put them on before he could get closer to me. I felt that even though we were married, I was entitled to my privacy. He had knocked on the door. He could have waited until I said, “Come in.”
    â€œThat was a long phone call,” he said. “I have been waiting for you.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said. “I told you not to wait.”
    â€œI wanted to wait,” he said. “I made us dinner. I want to eat it with you.”
    Somehow, Hans hadn’t noticed the suitcase, so I left the bedroom. I wasn’t sure what I thought I would do, maybe pack in secret and climb out the window. I would have to tell him. I didn’t know what my problem was, why I was afraid. Our friends thought he was the nicest, kindest man in the world. But none of them ever got to see him angry, that was all reserved for me. And I knew my going to San Francisco, that would get him angry. He would want to come. I was sure that he would want to come. Diego had only bought one plane ticket.
    I walked slowly over to the couch in the living room. There, on the coffee table, were the two untouched plates of pad thai, the beer mugs, one half full, an open beer, Sriracha hot sauce.
    I would not be able to eat this food.
    â€œJudy’s funeral is tomorrow,” I said.
    â€œOh,” Hans said. “That is sad.”
    It felt to me as if Hans had already forgotten that she had died. He wanted us to eat dinner, watch the next episode of Six Feet Under . Hans had never met Judy. I had never told himthat Judy had told me to put off getting married. Probably, I had told him very little about her. She didn’t really figure into my life anymore.
    â€œI guess I am going to her funeral,” I said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI have a plane ticket and I am going.”
    â€œHow can you have a plane ticket?”
    â€œI don’t know. It happened so quickly. Diego filled out a work order and used the company credit card and I have a plane ticket so I can go to her funeral tomorrow.”
    â€œOkay,” Hans said. “I want to come, too.”
    I blinked. I knew him, I knew him too well. Sometimes, Hans would say that we shared a brain and what one of us didn’t know about ourselves, the other knew. I never thought of this as a good thing. I wanted full possession of my brain.
    â€œI am going for a funeral,” I said. “Judy left me some things in her will. I have to go. You never even met her.”
    Hans stared at me. He was growing his hair long again, even though I preferred it short. The pad thai sat untouched on the coffee table in the living room.
    â€œI have been telling you for a while now,” Hans said. “That we need to go on a vacation.”
    â€œThis isn’t a vacation,” I said quietly.
    â€œHow long are you going for?” Hans asked.
    The answer, I knew, was wrong.
    â€œTwo weeks,” I said, even more quietly.
    â€œTwo weeks?”
    â€œDiego bought the ticket.”
    â€œWho is Diego?”
    â€œThis guy I used to work with. He is in management now.Actually, I’m not sure. That’s what he said. I just know he used company money to buy me a ticket.”
    â€œWell, great, call him back and tell him you want him to by me a ticket, too.”
    â€œI can’t do that.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œWe are married. Married people go to funerals together. This is common knowledge.”
    â€œYou didn’t know her.”
    I had told him that. I was having difficulty breathing. It had been a