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Authors: Sarah Andrews

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BOOK: Only Flesh and Bones
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HE journal that Miriam Menken had stored with Julia picked up where the previous one had left off. Apparently the women’s retreat Miriam had attended with Julia stressed positive visualization, as there was a spate of entries that said things like “I am happy and enjoying the best years of my life,” written twenty times over. After a few weeks’ worth of such hopeful platitudes, the journal lapsed back into unadulterated bitching. By Christmas, she seemed sick of her own irritability, and announced a New Year’s resolution to think about something else for a while. For the next six months, she recorded mundane events, but in July, her resolve collapsed back into a black rage. The first entry that month said it all:
 
July 3
Tonight I really lost my temper with Joe, worse than ever. He just stared at me like I was something mildly boring on TV. No wonder I’m a bitch, it’s six months since we even
tried.
He says why don’t I take a vacation and get some rest, like my problem is I’m
tired!
You bet I’m tired. I’m tired of his never listening to me, never even trying to give me what I want, and I don’t just mean sex.
I suppose most other women would be happy just having a man who always comes home and brings a fat paycheck, but when I lie there next to him at night, I just want to scream, or scratch his thighs and make him bleed. Am I tired? No, I am depressed, and there seems no way out of it. Maybe he’s right, I need a nice
long
rest.
I keep wondering if he’d mind if I had an affair. Or if he’d even notice.
 
July 15
Cecelia’s birthday. She’s twelve years old today and may as well be twenty. Her sulking has gotten much worse, and all she wants to do is be with her horse. Soon she’ll be a teenager, and then she’ll be off. Then what will I do with myself?
 
On such desperate notes, the journal continued through the end of December. Then the first month of the new year brought a jolt that was somehow no surprise:
 
January 18
I saw
Chandler
today. I thought I was
dreaming.
I was coming out of the Brown Palace Hotel after lunch with Julia, and he was just crossing the street. I stopped in the doorway and Julia banged into me, and she wanted to know what had made me stop. Of course, I didn’t tell her.
Maybe I
was
dreaming. Chandler Jennings happened to me over twenty years ago and a thousand miles from here. And he wouldn’t look like that anymore, would he? Not
that
good! But this man
moved
like him.
 
January 20
It
was
him. Tonight when I met Joe for dinner at the brew pub on Wyncoop, he was sitting two tables away with some men. Luckily, Joe was seated with his back to him, but then, maybe he wouldn’t know him anyway.
I couldn’t eat. I tried not to stare, but finally he looked up and saw me. I don’t think he knew me right away. He got up and left the table for a while, and just then Joe got up and went to say hi to the men he’d been sitting with. I had to go to the women’s room, and it’s downstairs and along a narrow hallway, and when I came back out, he was there, blocking the way. He came right up to me and stood close to me and said, “You’re Miriam Benner, right? I
thought that was you.” He gave me that smile I remember, and it took me right back.
All right, I’ll be more honest with myself: I got weak in the knees, just like I did the first time I ever saw him, only this time it was almost frightening. But delicious, too.
It was automatic after all these years as Mrs. J C. Menken to just say hi and walk on by, but he stopped me. He put a hand on my shoulder and kind of squeezed it and said, “You look wonderful,” and his eyes were glowing with that
hunger
of his. How long has it been since Joe spoke to me that way? I was so sure I’d lost my looks.
Chandler asked if I was living here, and all of a sudden I couldn’t stand to tell him that yes, I’m a housewife right here in Metro Denver and that’s my brain-dead husband I was sitting with. So I just kind of smiled and nodded and he said great, we should get together. Then he squeezed my shoulder again and he was gone.
All the rest of the evening all I wanted to do was get home so I could write this all down because it felt so good, but now all I want to do is cry.
 
February 17
Today at last I saw Chandler again, and this time I was ready. I was skiing up at Vail with Julia, and thankfully I had on that really great outfit that shows off my legs, or what’s left of them. I’d quit skiing before Julia and was waiting in the lodge and there he was talking to someone in the bar. He’s kept his hair, a real thick ruff, though the gold is shot with gray now. His face still has that boyish grin, really devastating with a few more lines in his face, and those eyes still have that wild shine. All these years I’ve remembered that face and dreamed of it when I wanted to have orgasms, and here it was almost unchanged. It was almost scary, like that kind of face and spirit aren’t supposed to be on the face of a man past forty. I don’t know how to describe that any better—it’s just that he seemed oddly sad, even though he was looking so lively, like he’d left something important in his life undone. He wasn’t dressed for
skiing, just those nice heavy corduroy slacks and a thick turtleneck sweater and casual shoes. But he made quick work of checking out my outfit and he did pause at my thighs and smile.
I get to dream, right?
 
February 23
I had words with Joe again tonight. Just that:
I
had words with
him.
He hardly said anything, except, “Now Miriam, I know it must be hard when I’m gone so much. But you’ll do fine, you always have, right?” And then he gave me one of those little pats on the knee he’s so good at.
 
The next six weeks of entries held an outpouring of dreams and fears that she had indeed lost her looks. And her mind. Spring found Miriam fighting her way out of a serious depression and into an attempt at hope:
 
April 5
Back to life, damn it!
Joe is up in Wyoming, something about a death on one of the drilling rigs, and Cecelia is on a school trip. Tonight I’m going to do something
fun!
 
April 6
I dressed in jeans and a bulky sweater and went down to Denver to a little jazz club called El Chapultepec. It has a cactus in neon out front and another sign that’s an arrow that says “EAT.” The music was terrific!
 
April 8
Went to El Chapultepec again. It was wonderful! Just for starts, the bartender recognized me and gave me a nice smile, but then I saw
Chandler.
He was sitting at a booth with some other people. A woman was next to him. I couldn’t tell if she was with
him,
but when he saw me, he gave me that
look
!!!
I can’t sleep for thinking about him. I can’t stop thinking
about Chandler’s beautiful bristly mustache, how it would feel brushing against me as he kisses me here and there and here again … .
I have to stop thinking like this.
 
April 9
Joe is home but I told him I was meeting Julia and had him stay home with Cecelia.
I went to El Chapultepec.
He
was there again. This time, it was as if we had planned to meet. He was alone at the same booth, and when he saw me, he gave me his slowest smile and slid over to make room for me, leaving his arm on the top of the seat. Later, when the band played a slow number, we stood up and danced. There wasn’t much room between the booths and the bar, so we had to stay close.
Now what do I do? He never said anything out of line. We sat down again and just talked about this and that, but I could still feel his warmth, as if he was still touching me. Before I knew it, I had had too many beers to drive home to Genesee, so we had to walk around town for a while. He took me to the Fairmont and we had coffee in a far corner of the lobby, back where no one could see. Then it was late and he said he’d better run me back to my car as he had an early business date, even though tomorrow’s Saturday.
Where is he staying? Is he still married? I didn’t even ask. But I did give him my number.
 
April 20
He called. At first he said he was just thinking of me and then said why didn’t we have lunch? I said sure, telling myself that I get to have friends that are men, and it was lovely. We met at a little café in Evergreen where there was water running from a fountain making enough sound that people couldn’t overhear us, and we talked and talked and talked.
Then we realized that it was almost three and I had to
go get Cecelia from school. Parting in the lot he gave me a little hug and said we had to stay in touch.
 
April 28
I haven’t heard from him. I hope everything is okay.
Joe just sits at the dinner table reading the
Wall Street Journal
and talking about how incensed he is about this industry or that commodities price. I want to slap him!
 
May 5
He called! He said he’d try to make time when we could be together later in the week and “just talk.” How I wish it could be more!
 
May 8
I’ll just tell it straight. He called and came to the house. Said why spend the money at a restaurant when all he wanted was to look into my eyes and see me smile. I left one of the garage doors open and he drove right in and closed the door behind him, just as if we’d planned it. Then he came inside and we went straight to the daybed in my sitting room and it was just like twenty years had never happened. He hit every nerve just like before, and we were hot and sweating and right there in the middle of the rug on the dark gray sheepskin just like I’ve tried so many times to interest Joe, but he never would. The fleece felt like velvet against my back.
 
May 10
I can’t think of anything but Chandler. Thoughts of him fill me up so much that I can’t even think how I really feel about what I did. Am I a bad woman? I’m not in love with him. He’s just a friend, but he gives me something Joe never has. All these years I thought Joe was just keeping it from me, but now when I line the two men up in my mind for an instant, it’s like they’re two separate species, and I think that of course Joe is capable of being sexual, but Chandler is different. He’s
sensual.
Joe thinks I must have the flu or something. I told him yes, that I’m a little under the weather. Cecelia sits over in the corner of the kitchen and watches me, like she knows
exactly
what’s going on. I tell myself I’m being paranoid.
 
May 19
Chandler hasn’t
called!
 
May 21
Just when I was losing my mind, he called and came up here at lunchtime and suddenly it was three again. I feel delicious and relaxed and scared and slightly sick all at the same time.
I am a very bad woman.
 
June 14
He visits me often now, sometimes two and three times a week. I’m in a trance. The sex always seems like it’s going to be so wonderful, such an extravagant, secret thing to do, but then afterward I feel half sick. I try to put it out of my mind, but then the next day I find myself watching the phone, as if I can make it ring. What am I going to do when school’s out and Cecelia’s home all the time?
 
July 6
Cecelia is being awful. She mopes around watching TV, and won’t leave the house. Stares at me a lot. I tell myself she can’t know. Can she? How I wish she’d just go visit a friend, maybe ride her horse. When Chandler calls, I have to say that Cecelia is home, but to try later.
 
July 25
Today I saw Chandler’s car go by on the road. Cecelia saw it too, and turned around and
looked
at me.
 
July 31
She
does
know. I overheard her talking to her friend Heather Wentworth, whispering about how “the man with
the gold BMW was here again.” How could I be so stupid? Heather lives right up the street and her mother just sits around all day drinking, staring out the front window. Where did I ever get the idea that just because I feel so alone here, nobody notices me? What if it gets back to Joe? Do I want that to happen? And how could I have thought this so important I could let it get between me and my daughter?
 
I was jolted from my reading by Julia’s sudden entry into the conference room across from her office, where she had installed me with my lunch and the journal. Julia, who glanced at the journal with such indifference that I knew she hadn’t read it. But then, Miriam hadn’t even bothered to tape these incriminating pages shut. Miriam had known she could trust Julia’s disinterest. “I have to leave for a meeting,” she announced.
BOOK: Only Flesh and Bones
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