2becomes1: widowhood for the rest of us
A three o’clock Andrew leaned against the stone post on one side of the staircase leading into the historic courthouse, hands in his pockets. He would give Bryan the length of one smoke before going to look for him.
Andrew liked the view here, which…
Annie opened her eyes. First light, and Andrew was awake, she could tell, lying on his back; he was always awake now, whenever she woke up.
“I dreamed I couldn’t find my house,” she said. “I was driving around, and it just wasn’t there.”
He turned and…
. . . In her fatigue Annie observed that the cops had been transformed into theater artists, in costume, and this event a performance piece, lit by three red strobe lights, in which you took every single thing out of the car, and then out…
“I am pleased, and proud, and honored to have won this election!” Kathleen shouted to the fifty people packed into the one-room temporary Democratic HQ in Schuyler.
“The vote is close! What does that mean, everybody?”
“Your! Vote! Matters!” they shouted back to her.
“No groceries tonight,” Annie told Andrew on the phone later Friday afternoon. “I’ll pick you up for a meeting of Kathleen’s kitchen cabinet. She’s terrified.”
Andrew chose a Snickers bar and put the wrapper in the cart. “They’re so fucking cheerful,” he whispered. “When do people have sex?”
“But they have all these children.”
“—I don’t know, Andrew. You’re a reporter. Ask them.”
“I’m not a reporter. I move apples. What…
He liked to see her profile out of the corner of his eye, totally focused on the driving, breathing bits and pieces of junk rock n’ roll (no Beatles—they shared a decade of fatigue with the Fab Four) that she knew from the first chord.…
. . . “I was thinking about moving up there.”
“To the COUNTRY?” Caroline, who never raised her voice, had elevated her voice.
“It’s not always the country,” said Andrew. “They have this sort of Needle Park at one end of Schuyler.”
“Wonderful. Just what you need.”