In a little while it began raining.
He hailed a cab and took her back to the apartment.
34
Maggie did not begin dressing until nine o’clock that night.
The rain that had swept the development that afternoon seemed to have abated suddenly, leaving an anticlimactic stillness. The forecasters warned that this was the eye of the storm, the lull preceding the real onslaught of Felicia, but it seemed to Maggie the storm was over, it seemed to her it had passed. Larry had called again that afternoon to say he’d be leaving the city at nine that night, giving himself plenty of time in case the traveling was bad. She was grateful for the lull. He would be starting just about now, and she did not want him to be driving in the rain.
She was in her slip when Don came into the bedroom
“Where’s Patrick?” she asked.
“Downstairs. Watching television.” Don sat on the edge of the canopied bed, his hands behind him. “You really going, Margaret?” he asked.
“Yes, Don.”
“In spite of the storm?”
“The storm is over.”
“That’s not what they said on television.”
“Well, I’m going anyway.”
He watched her silently for a while. Then he said, “You’ve got wide hips, you know?”
“Mmm.”
“Real childbirth hips.”
“Thank you.”
“I wasn’t trying to be nasty,” he said apologetically. “I meant it as a...” He stopped and shrugged, and then fell silent again. At last he said, “You’re really looking forward to this trip, aren’t you?”
“I’m anxious to get away,” she said. “The house can get a person down.”
“Oh, sure, I know. Don’t misunderstand me, Margaret. I don’t mind.”
She felt a spark of anger in his words. She rose suddenly as if to hurl a retort, walked swiftly to the closet instead, and took a dress from one of the hangers. She pulled it over her head and smoothed it over her hips and all the while her hands worked she thought angrily, Why doesn’t he mind? She went to him and said, “Would you zip me up please?”
Don pulled up the zipper at the back of her dress, and then put his hands behind him on the bed again.
“You don’t seem very concerned about my going,” she said, a sharp edge to her voice.
“I just wish you’d wait for the storm to be over, that’s all.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean?”
“My going. Not the storm. Just my going.” With each word he spoke, she was becoming increasingly more angry. She could not understand the anger, but she knew it was spreading through her unchecked. As she walked to the dressing table, she could feel a frown claiming her face.
“Why should I be worried?” Don shrugged. “Everybody deserves a rest every now and then.”
“Not many men let their wives go alone,” she said. She sat and picked up her lipstick tube. In tense short movements, she jabbed at it with her brush.
Don shrugged again. “Who cares what other men do? You’re my wife, not theirs.”
“A lot of men would feel—”
“I can’t see anything wrong with your going away for a little rest.”
“Most men,” she said, “wouldn’t trust their wives that far.”
“Well, I trust you, Margaret.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” she said, amazed when the words sprang from her mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that!” she said, and she begged herself to stop, knowing the conversation had come too far already, and yet perversely and doggedly continuing as her anger mounted. “I might be running off to meet another man, for all you know.”
“Oh, sure,” Don said.
“Why not? Is it so damn impossible?”
“Well, I just don’t think...”
“Suppose I was meeting another man, Don?”
“I don’t like this kind of talk, Margaret.”
“Would you be jealous, Don?”
“Well, I...”
“Would you be infuriated, Don? Could you picture him kissing me, Don, and touching me and—”
“Now stop it. You know I don’t—”
“How would you like that, Don? Another man making love to me?”
“I wouldn’t like it at all. Now stop that kind of talk. The way you talk, sometimes I think—”
“What?” she said, whirling from the mirror to face him.
“Nothing. But it’s not becoming, Margaret. I mean it. You talk like a... a...”
“A what, Don?” she said, her eyes flashing.
“I don’t know what, but it’s not right for a woman to talk that way. Suppose Patrick heard you? His mother. Talking like that.”
“I think I’ll pick up a man tonight,” she said brazenly, angrily.
“Now come on, stop it.”
“I’ll find one in the storm and—”
“You won’t find anything. Now cut it out. You’ll go away just the way you’re supposed to, and you’ll come back to me just the way you’re supposed to.”
“Suppose I don’t come back?”
“You will.”
“You’re pretty damn sure, aren’t you?” she said, and there was so much vehemence in her voice that he opened his eyes wide and stared at her for several moments before speaking again.
Then he said, “Yes. I’m sure.”
“Well, don’t count on it!” she snapped.
“Margaret, what—”
“Stop taking me for granted! I’m a woman! And one of these days I’m liable to walk out of here and never come back!
Don gently said, “Now Margaret, you know that isn’t true. You’ll always come back to me.”
She turned away from him and viciously picked up the lipstick brush again, her fingers trembling. In the mirror, she could see her eyes flashing with rage. Damn stupid fool, she thought. I’ll always come back to him. Damn smug satisfied stupid fool!
But he’s right, she thought. You always come back to him. He’s right about that. Didn’t you know that?
No, I didn’t know that. I damn well...
Didn’t you know you’d never leave him? she thought.
No! I can leave him any time I want to. I can...
Oh, Margaret, don’t. Please. Look at the truth, Margaret. You can have Larry and a hundred men after him if you like, but you’ll always go back to Don. Don’t you know why, Margaret? It’s because you were made for each other.
Made for...!
Yes, yes, oh surely you know that. You couldn’t leave him if you wanted to. And you don’t want to. Didn’t you say you liked things the way they are? You want everything to stay the way it is, don’t you? Don’t you?
I won’t listen! she thought.
You’ll listen, she thought, because you know it’s true. You know you’re caught in a personal Hell. You’re stuck with Don until the day you die, and then maybe you’ll really go to Hell, but...
I’m not listening! I don’t have to...
... in the meantime, this is fine, this is Hell enough. No matter how much you want to break away from him, no matter who’s waiting out in that storm now or forever, you’ll never do it.
Stop it, she thought. Stop it. I’m not listening!
You’ll never do it because Don is safe! He’s the safest goddamn man you could find, and that’s why you married him.
No!
Admit it, admit it! Look into your own eyes and admit it. Larry may fill you for a while but you’ll always go back to Don because he doesn’t want as much. He doesn’t want your heart.