8-16-06

Hello

I haven’t blogged in two weeks because I stopped getting responses. But I’m blogging today. I’ve only thrown up maybe 5 times in the last two weeks, which is a wonder. My medication is working well and I’m starting to function in the real world.

I don’t have much drive to write, but I’ll post the next chapter from my novel, Walking Wounded.

Thanks for reading.

Thor

Walking Wounded, Chapter 8

by Thor Cameron

PASSING INTERESTS

Nancy slipped off her shoes and stretched her feet over the coffee table, crossing her ankles as she

leaned back. Pauline refilled her wine glass, finished the bottle into Nancy’s, then relaxed back in a similar pose.

"So," Nancy continued, "I said to him ‘Mel, you just keep an eye on the stock, and leave the purchasing to me’. I mean, he ordered from a company that charges triple what we usually pay. Triple."

"Maybe he’s getting a kick back," joked Pauline. There was a pause as both sipped their wine.

"Where’s Jenny?" Pauline asked, looking around.

"Camping for the weekend with her Aunt Anna and her girlfriend."

"Your sister or his?" Pauline asked.

"Jimmy’s sister Anna and her current lover," Nancy answered nonchalantly, monitoring Pauline’s reaction from the corner of her eye.

"Her what?" Pauline asked.

"Well, Anna’s a lesbian."

"And you let them take Jenny camping? That’s an impressionable age."

"Having straight parents didn’t make Anna straight, so I fail to see how having a lesbian aunt can make Jenny a lesbian," Nancy answered. There was another pause as Pauline took a long drink, nearly draining the glass.

"So how are you two doing now that he’s out of the picture?"

"Well, Jenny seems O.K. with it. Before he left, there was a lot of fighting and slamming of doors, and I could really see that taking a toll on her, but she seems... calmer now. He doesn’t call as often as she d like, but..."

"And what about you?"

"Ah yes, what about me?" Nancy began and drained her glass. "More wine?" she didn’t wait for a reply, just walked to the refrigerator for another bottle and began working the corkscrew into it as she came back to the couch. The cork emerged with a softly audible pop, and she proceeded to refill both glasses.

"I am... better. Yes, definitely better. I was tired for a long time. Tired of coming home every night and having something to fight about. Every night. I was tired of being married to someone too boring for even obligatory corporate parties. I was tired of explaining to people how my husband was an author that writes stuff none of my friends read. Or would read. I was tired of being married to someone who has all these people running around in his head. I swear, I think the only reason he writes books is to keep his sanity, keep all those people in his head straight. Then, for a while, the fights stopped. I guess I just got tired of fighting. That’s when I really knew it was over."

"What do you mean?" Pauline asked. "You knew it was over when you didn’t fight?"

"Well, you see," Nancy explained, "In songs and poetry, you always hear about love and hate. But that’s not it at all. Hate isn’t the opposite of love. Hell, I hated Jimmy for five years. I hated him because I cared so much. I wanted things to work out. I wanted us to be in love again. I wanted my husband. Then, one day I realized well, no, not one day exactly. I mean, I had felt it coming on for a while. Kind of like how you watch the sugar bowl empty, day after day, one spoonful at a time into your coffee. But then there’s that one day, that morning, sit down at the table and see a spoon sitting in a perfectly empty, china bowl. After it was empty there was nothing more to fight about.

"That was the beginning of the end as they say. I didn’t have it in me anymore. I didn’t care. And it resounded in me like a church bell, or a gong. That’s what it was: a giant, seven-foot Tibetan gong, telling me that the opposite of love is indifference. And when I thought about Jimmy, I couldn’t feel anything. I just didn’t care. Then I thought ‘Why am I married to someone I don t care about?’ That was it." Nancy took another drink.

"And now?" Pauline inquired.

"Now I’m... relieved. Like dead weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel, well, free really, I guess."

"Free?"

"Yes, free to try new things, dabble into a few things."

"Like skydiving?"

"Well, not skydiving, but yeah, things I never got around to trying," Nancy said with a sly grin. She looked at Pauline’s dress from the corner of her eye as she drained her glass and reached for the bottle.

Pauline excused herself and went to the bathroom. As she washed her hands, she stared at herself in the mirror for what seemed like a very long time.

Nancy was sitting on the couch, leaning forward, rolling the wine glass between her hands. Her eyes had fixed on a spot in space, and she was breathing deeply through her nose. She could smell, at least she believed she could, the lingering odor of Jimmy’s cigarettes. She made a mental note to have the carpet, upholstery and curtains cleaned. She picked up her pumps from under the coffee table and took them to the shoe tree in her bedroom closet. When she heard Pauline emerge from the bathroom, she called to her.

"Pauline, I’m in here. You’ve got to see these luscious red stiletto heels that I bought. I haven’t had the courage to wear them yet, but…"