Bonnie Nadzam - Lamb

“I want to say this, Linnie, okay? Seeing you come across the grass for me—it’s the best thing this old guy’s seen in a lifetime.”

“David.”

“No. Let me say this. I know there’s a lot of stuff from my previous life that’s been crowding you out. I know that. My previous life isn’t even my previous life. Do you understand?”

“How long ago did you move out?”

“A long time. Two months. Three. I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked down at his hands.

“Was it because of me?”

“Linnie, you need to not think of it that way. Listen. I’m going to tell you something that is absolutely true, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Cathy knows nothing about you.”

“Okay.”

“People live together. They tolerate each other until they realize they’ve been tolerating each other, right? Sometimes it’s like sleepwalking.”

“She won’t tolerate you having affairs.”

“If there’s something you want to ask, Linnie, you’d better just ask it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There isn’t anybody else out here. Do you see anybody out here other than you? Do you think I really called a bunch of women and invited them out, just hoping one of them would come?”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked out the window over the door at the empty road, the huge curtain of blue sky above it. “Do you have the sense I’m out here getting my kicks while I’m counting the empty columns of my life?”

“Please, David. I’m sorry, okay?”

“And it’s not that simple. There are things about her too. But understand it’s very difficult to speak ill of her.”

“I respect you the more for it.”

“I know you do.” He put his hands in his lap and turned to face her. “You know me, don’t you.”

“Sometimes.”

“Linnie. Look at me. Let’s have this. I want to try for it. But I’d feel like I was stealing you from the world. You’re so young. You have a life to live.”

“I could just wait for you. I’m willing to do that.”

“I think I knew you would say that.”

“Why does it make you look like you want to die? You need to not look at me like that.”

He looked down at his open hands. “I’m afraid I made you say it.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“I’m afraid I make everybody say everything.”

“You’re not that powerful.”

He nodded and looked at his hands.

“What about Cathy?” she asked.

“What about her.”

“You make her say everything?”

“No.”

“What if I say I’m not going to see you again after this?”

“I’d worry that you were trying to convince me I hadn’t made you say everything up till then.”

“I see the problem.”

“I need a little of this space to do some soul searching, Linnie. I need to test myself. Or. Clean out my heart, you know? It’s like a crowded old garage. It needs emptying and sorting.”

“I don’t know if you can tidy a heart like you can clean a garage, David.”

“I need to try. I need to see if there’s anything there.”

“I used to find all this stuff in my parents’ garage. Horseshoes and old mitts and notepads and hammers of solid metal. Do you know the kind I mean?”

“I know the kind.”

“If you find something like that, don’t throw it away.”

“Aren’t you even a little angry with me, Linnie?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“I think I want someone to be.”

“Well, I don’t want to be angry. You can’t go around trying to make people angry just so you know where you stand.”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Maybe.”

“I think I might be an awful person, Linnie.”

“David, you’re a decent man. Okay?”

His eyes filled. He took her face in his hands. “How do you know exactly what to say?” Linnie took his hands and he let go her face. “I’m afraid everyone’s in on something really wonderful, Linnie, and I don’t know what it is, and I can’t be in on it.”

“You’re okay.”

“I’m outside the window.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’ll be waiting for me, won’t you?”

“I will.”

“You can’t help it, can you?”

“Of course I can.”

“Oh, thank you for saying that.” She moved the pillow and he took her up in his arms. “Are you my girl?”

Glacial winds blasted the mountains all night and in the morning it was bright and bitter cold. Lamb filled the woodstove and set a pan of water to boil on top while outside he built the breakfast fire for Linnie. She was bundled up in Lamb’s extra clothes and wrapped in a rug, two rag-wooled hands around a tin cup of champagne. Lamb was back and forth in his sheepskin coat between the fire and the girl, the stove and the woman. He walked slowly through the wind in the space between the cabin door and the shop door and he no longer wanted to enter either room. He wanted again to lie down, this time in the snow, and see who came for him or where else they might put him.

“Why do you look so beaten up. Is it me?”

“I’m just tired, Lin. So tired.”

“This is because you’re feeding a dozen women breakfast, isn’t it?” She winked.

Lamb raised his eyes at her, his head lowered to his cup of hot tea and whiskey. “You have no idea.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

He sipped from the cup. “Emily.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“I took her from a swing set in her mother’s backyard.”

“Yuck, David.”

“She’s a sweet kid. That’s all. Maybe I wish I’d had a kid.”

“What’s so sweet about her?”

“She has freckles.” He poured more whiskey into his own cup, raised to her, and she drained the champagne and held out her own cup.

“I have freckles.”

“Those? Those are not freckles. Those are beauty marks.”

“I thought that was supposed to be a good thing.”

“Beauty marks don’t need my love. Freckles need my love. Enough beans?”

“Enough for two of me.”

“Enough bacon?”

“Let’s go inside.”

“You go ahead. I’ll get these plates rinsed off so they’re clean for lunch. I have a Scrabble board in the cabin somewhere. Get it out for us?”

“Can’t I see the shop?”

He nodded and stood slowly. “Come on. Let’s be quick and get it over with. I want to get back in bed.”

The shop was warm and they carried the cold in on their coats and in their hair. Linnie had the champagne under her arm. She hopped up on the workbench and looked out the window to the road and the line of trees, blackened by the brightness of the morning sky behind them. “But it’s so warm in here.” She turned back to Lamb. “Why didn’t we eat in here? It’s cleaner than the cabin.”

“A workspace has to be clean.”

“Do you work out here?”

“I will. I haven’t but I will.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to fix up the cabin, for one. Gutter in the back is hanging off the roof. Some of the window frame needs mending.” He opened the stove door to turn the wood. “The whole thing needs a good cleaning.”

“That little window in the bathroom is cracked.”

“I know it.”

“It could clean up pretty well. You could rent it out. Like a summer cabin.”

“Or I could just live in it.”

“You’d get restless.”

He looked out the window behind her head. “You begin to feel a lot differently about a word like restless when you’re my age.”

“You talk like you’re infirm.” She lifted the bottle. “Want to make a nest by the woodstove?”

“Out here?”

“It’s great.”

He nodded. “Okay, Lin. I’ll get some more wood and build the fire. You go get the blankets off the couch. Let’s get that rug too. Get the Scrabble board.”