chapter 1
fiction
HUFFINGTON
09.23.12
sleeps, and screams when her head rolls onto the floor.
Before, at summer camp, the story had always made
Janet puff with righteousness. What a pushy spoiler of
a husband. Wasn’t their happiness enough? Couldn’t he
respect her one rule? One? But in the dressing room, her
nose full of the clean smell of new turtleneck, she felt
the story tugging at her. Something she couldn’t quite
put a finger on. As she paid cash for the turtlenecks—
three—cream, fuchsia, black—she told a quick version of
the story to the blonde manager, a woman who clearly
knew her way in the world. Strong shoulders, proud large
hands, open smile. “What do
you think it means?” Janet
asked. Far off in the distance,
“THANK YOU.”
she could see the saleslady of
SHE FELT HER EYES
her choice re-hanging blousWATERING. “YOU
es on a rack.
The manager flattened out
ARE REALLY VERY
the receipt to sign.
BEAUTIFUL.”
“I remember that story,” the
THE YEARNING IN
manager said, sighing. “I had
HER VOICE WAS
the cutest camp boyfriend.”
SO PALPABLE IT
“I mean, why not just be
CAUGHT THEM BOTH
happy with the way things are,
BY SURPRISE.
right?” said J anet.
The manager took the
signed receipt and put it in
the register’s pile. She folded
the turtlenecks, separating each with a sheet of tissue paper, and then slipped all three into a bag. “But can you
blame him?” she said, handing the bag to Janet. “I mean,
I’m all for clothes, but at a certain point, they’re supposed
to go away, you know? How long were they married?”
“I don’t know,” said Janet, taking the bag. “Story
doesn’t say.”