"Why can't you come home afterwards?" Nora heard herself asking.
"Maaa!" J. J. sounded exasperated. "You'll make me look like a real dork if I have a curfew. What if this guy from State and I are in an important conversation? The clock strikes ten, and I have to get up, saying, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Blank, but my mommy wants me home.' Do you want me to look like a jerk?"
"No, of course not. What about clothing for tomorrow?" Nora asked her son.
"I'll jet over after school, grab some, and my toothbrush too. Okay?" He sounded anxious and so excited.
"Okay." Nora gave in gracefully. What other choice did she have?
"Great, Ma! See ya!" The phone went dead.
Nora set it down, but then as an afterthought picked up the phone again, dialing the Graham residence. Maris Graham answered. "Maris, Nora Buckley. J. J. just called. This isn't going to be a problem for you, is it? He can always come home."
"No, no," Maris Graham replied. "He can sleep in Peter's room. There are bunk beds there. Michael Collier is the director of admissions at State. I know J. J.'s gotten in without any difficulty, but I thought if Mike met J. J., he'd like him," she laughed. "What isn't to like? But I thought it might help J. J. get a better on-campus job, and maybe a bump in his scholarship money. I wish they could have met earlier, but Mike only gets down to see us once a year. He and John were at Princeton together."
"Well, fine, then," Nora replied. "And Maris, thanks so very much. You have been very kind to J. J., and we appreciate it."
"No problem. He's a good kid," came the response.
Nora had no sooner hung up the phone again when it rang once more. Her husband's voice came over the line.
"Don't you ever do anything but yak on the phone?" Jeff greeted her. "I've been trying to get you for hours."
Nora sighed. "Don't prevaricate, Jeff. I've been over at Rina's this morning. There were no messages." She pressed the caller ID. "You haven't called until just now, and I didn't get a beep. You must have dialed the wrong number. I was just on the phone with Maris Graham. J. J. is staying over there tonight. I wanted to make certain it was alright with Maris. What's up?"
"I can't get home tonight," he replied curtly, ignoring her explanation. "Big campaign, and the client is in from Detroit. By the time the meetings are over, and we've wined and dined him, it will be just too damned late. I'll stay at the company apartment."
"Of course," Nora said, an edge in her voice. "You stayed all weekend, Jeff, but of course I understand. Just remember that the Athletic Association awards at the school are Friday night. J. J. is picking up a scholarship for soccer from the local booster club. I damned well expect you to be there for your son!"
"What the hell has gotten into you?" he demanded. "The Change, I suppose. I work like a peon to keep you and the kids comfortable, and all you can do is bitch at me."
"I've been on hormone replacement therapy for two years now if you had ever bothered to notice. Are you having an affair, Jeff?" Nora shot back at him, astounded even as the words left her mouth that she had said them.
"I don't have to dignify that question with a reply, Nora," Jeff said loftily. "I'll call you later this week."
"Don't bother! Just be home for the awards. J. J. is your only son," Nora snapped. "At least the only one that I know of, dear."
The phone line went dead, but not before she had heard the sharp intake of his breath.
"Omigod!" she half whispered as she put the phone back down in its charger. He hadn't denied a thing. He had practically confirmed it by not answering her question. If he wasn't having an affair, he would have said so. But he hadn't said so. She was surprised that he hadn't asked her to define the word affair. When had Jeff become such a son of a bitch? Or had he always been that way, and she too blind to notice? You are in big trouble, girlfriend, she thought to herself. And you are all alone. Her father was dead, and she certainly wasn't going to go running to her mother. Margo had never really liked Jeff in the first place. She had no siblings. What the hell was she going to do? There was really no one to help her. It frightened her to realize that Jeff seemed to have all the cards in this terrible game they were playing.
Nora stood up and paced the room. She had no idea of the time, but it had to be afternoon because the sun was flooding the den with its bright light. She had never expected to come to this point in her life when she married Jeff. Nora believed when you got married, you stayed that way until one of you died. That was the way it had always been. That was the way it was supposed to be. It was like that here on Ansley Court, but then, they had all been lucky. No one worked at marriage anymore, it seemed. Divorce was so commonplace nowadays.
She walked into the front hallway and stared at herself in the large mirror over the hall table. Alright. She was heavier than the 120 pounds she had weighed when they were married. She wasn't a flaming redhead anymore. She pushed at the hair near her temples. It was faded even more than the rest of her head. She peered closely into the mirror. Okay. She had a few laugh lines around her eyes. But everyone she knew did too, damnit! But she wasn't a bad-looking woman. In fact she was in pretty good condition for a woman in her late forties if you overlooked the fact that her boobs were going south, and her waist wasn't quite as narrow as it had once been, and her thighs were a bit mottled. Weren't everyone's at this point?
Nora sighed. So she wasn't the girl he had married anymore. He wasn't the boy she had married either. But there was no doubt about it, unfair as it seemed. Men simply did age better than women in most cases. She knew that Jeff worked out at the gym in his office five days a week. He insisted on low-fat, low-carb meals when he was home. He didn't smoke, and drank rarely except very expensive wines. The truth was that he looked better now than he had when they were first married.
Nora wandered absently back into the den. He hadn't said anything to her yet, but he was going to, and she sensed it was coming soon. She flopped back on the couch. Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! There was that niggling question again. What was she going to do to survive this disaster? Suddenly Nora was exhausted with her newly discovered tension. She dozed restlessly for how long she didn't know. Her confusion and reverie were broken by a young voice calling.
"Mrs. B.? It's me, Maureen. I've got your KFC."
"Thanks, honey," Nora called back. "Leave it on the counter, will you?" She didn't want Maureen to see her, for she realized that she had been crying in her sleep. She must really look like hell. If Maureen saw her, she would call Carla at the hospital, and Carla would call her. There was nothing anyone could do for her right now.
"Okay, Mrs. B. I ran into J. J. coming in. He said he didn't want to disturb you. He'll see you tomorrow. Daddy got you mashed potatoes and coleslaw. I hope that's alright," Maureen said.
"Fine, sweetie, my favorites," Nora assured her. "Tell your dad I said thanks, and ask him to let me know what I owe him, okay?" She heard the kitchen door close behind the girl. Standing up, she went out into her kitchen to get her dinner. Taking a plate down from the cabinet, she opened the cardboard box. Rick had gotten her a breast and two wings. It was still hot, and it smelled good. She put it on her plate along with the biscuit, which she buttered. Then she emptied the container of mashed potatoes and gravy onto the plate, opened the coleslaw and took it into the den. Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a fork, a napkin, and a glass of peach iced tea. Back in the den she turned on Peter Jennings, and sat down to eat. The news was the same as always. War and a fluctuating stock market.
Mick and Jerry, the family cats, appeared magically, licking their chops and meowing. They looked up hopefully at Nora. She laughed, pulled the meat from the two wings, put it on a napkin, and set it down on the floor for the two felines to devour. When the news ended, she turned the set off. The clock on the fireplace mantle struck seven o'clock, and as it did she considered her conversation with her friends this morning. She was alone tonight. No one but her and the cats in the house. She could order this channel thing. They all seemed to like it, and damnit, she could use a lift. She suspected it was some sort of X-rated channel, but why not? Carla was her best friend in all the world, and Carla wouldn't steer her wrong. Nora picked up the telephone and dialed Suburban Cable.