Ann Beattie - Chilly Scenes of Winter

MOTHER: Who’s this?

CHILD: The daddy.

MOTHER: That’s right And is this the mommy?

CHILD: Yes. And that’s the doggie.

MOTHER: And who’s this?

CHILD: I don’t know.

MOTHER: An unemployed jacket salesman.

Charles laughs. But not for long, because he has made the wrong turn. He puts the light on and looks again at J.D.’s directions. He should have turned right back there. He makes a U-turn and takes the correct turn, and then he’s on the road that will lead him to Wicker Street. He hopes that she will be glad to see him, that she’s not acting funny the way she was on the phone. Even if she does act funny, he can talk her out of it. Remember the mobile I bought you, Laura? The night I rocked you? Remember that dessert you used to make — the one with oranges? He wants to rush in, hand her a diamond ring, sit down in a chair in the kitchen and watch her make that dessert. He wants to eat the dessert, then jump into bed with her. What should he really do? What should he say when she opens the door? Wicker Streets cuts across the road to the left and the right. He turns right and sees the numbers going down. Naturally, he made the wrong decision. He turns around and goes the other way on Wicker Street. He should have brought something. The ingredients for that dessert … no, he should have brought flowers. But that would be corny. He’ll just park the car and casually go into the building and … and … what should he say? There are no parking places. He has to park the next street over and walk through the cold to her apartment. His nose will run. He reaches up, to check. That would be awful. The building is drab and brown, no locked doors, no list of tenants under glass. There is a brown bag crumpled on one of the chairs in the lobby. He goes up the four steps, past the mailboxes to the elevator. There is no Muzak in the elevator. He gets off at her floor. Incredible. He can’t believe this is happening. She has left Ox, she is living here, he is going to knock on her door, and she is going to open it. He stands in front of the door. Music is playing inside. He knocks and Laura opens the door. Incredible! There is Laura, in a pair of jeans and a wraparound sweater. She gives him a half-smile. “Hi.”

“Hi. How are you?”

“Fine. Come in.”

There is a bowl of crocuses blooming on the little table next to the closet she hangs his coat in.

“The last time I saw you you were sick,” he says.

She gives the half-smile again. “Yeah. And I thought I felt bad that day.”

“What’s the matter … now?”

“Come in,” she says. They walk down the short hallway to the living room. There is a mattress on the floor, covered with a yellow Indian bedspread. There are no curtains. There is a sofa, and a small rug in front of it. There are plants in the windows. There is a stereo playing.

“I’m sorry not to act nicer,” she says. “I’m glad to see you.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He stares. She looks the same, but she’s plucked her eyebrows. They’re thin arches now. Her eyes look much larger. He stares into them.

“I don’t know where to begin,” he says.

She smiles.

“Coming in, I started remembering that dessert you used to make with the chocolate and the oranges, and I thought about begging you to make it immediately.”

“Oh. I know the one you mean. You can come over sometime and I’ll make it for you.”

Sometime? What is she talking about?

“Tomorrow?” he says.

“Tomorrow? I guess so. If you want to,” she says.

The conversation has started all wrong. She is sitting on the mattress, her back against the wall. He sits down at the end of the mattress, looking up at her.

“You’ve got a roommate?” he says.

“Yes. She’s at the library. She’s in graduate school.”

“Oh. Well, what are … what are you doing?”

“Looking frantically for work.”

“Why don’t you come back to the library?”

“I don’t want to,” she says.

“Are you looking for another job like that?”

“I wouldn’t care. I’ve just got to get a job.”

“Sam’s out of work. You remember Sam?”

“Of course I do.”

Of course she would.

“That’s too bad,” she says. “Does he get unemployment, or.…”

“Yeah. He gets that. He’s over at my place now.”

“That’s nice,” she says.

“Are you okay?” he says.

She can’t be. The half-smile has become frozen on her face now.

“No, I’m not very happy, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t want to leave Rebecca.”

“Why did you?” he says.

“I didn’t, really. Jim told me, well, I don’t remember the exact way he told me, but he wanted to live alone. I thought it would be better for me to go than to have Rebecca living in a new place, maybe having to leave her school,”

“Why did he want to live alone?”

“How should I know? We didn’t talk.”

“You didn’t?”

“You’re so curious,” she says. She gives him a half-smile.

“I love you. I want to know what’s going on.”

“I can’t tell you. I don’t know myself. He told me that one night, and the next morning I explained as best I could to Rebecca, and I left. Frances let me stay with her, until I can find work.”

“You can stay with me.”

“No. I just want to think things out for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“That I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know if I’ll stay around here. I only would for Rebecca, but now I hear that he’s going to move.”

“Couldn’t you stay with me until you found out?”

“No,” she says.

“Why not?”

“Because I want to be by myself.”

“Frances lives here, though.”

“That’s the same as being by myself. She doesn’t make any demands on me.”

“I never made demands on you, did I?”

“People always make demands on other people.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“I wasn’t saying you did anything wrong. You were very nice to me. I didn’t start this conversation.”

“Laura, you’re talking funny. I can’t understand you.”

“You don’t want to understand me.”

“I don’t want to, but I think I do. You’re saying that you don’t intend to come back to me.”

“Not right now, no.”

The dizzy feeling comes back. He is very glad that he didn’t finish the second beer.

“But you will come back? You just want time to think? Time to think about what?”

“Charles, what are you talking about? I just said that I had to have time to think about where I would work and live.”

“With me.”

“I don’t want to live with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to be on my own. I don’t want anyone dependent upon me, and I don’t want to have to depend on anybody else. I just want to …”

“Laura, you’ve got to come back. We don’t have to live in my house. I was going to tell you we’d sell it and that you can pick out some place you’d like to live.”

“You really are crazy about me, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

“That makes me feel awful. It’s not that I don’t like you …”

Like!

“But I don’t want to get into anything like that right now.”

“Laura, you love me! If you hadn’t loved me, you wouldn’t have gotten out of bed when you had the flu to tell me you couldn’t meet me. Don’t you even know that you love me? Remember the mobile I gave you?”

“The mobile?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“Yes. I remember it. But I don’t know why you brought it up.”

“I don’t either. I was just thinking about the other apartment”

“Would you like some tea or coffee? Or scotch?”