How It Was for Me: Stories by Andrew Sean Greer

Author:Andrew Sean Greer [Greer, Andrew Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Picador
Published: 2013-11-04T23:00:00+00:00

The Walker

A SQUARE INCH of her would feed the city for a week. Not literally feed—he’s thinking of the price of food. He’s judging the wealth in that square inch, the subtle, priceless black fabric, the imported underthings, the soft, massaged skin, the arteries already plump with that expensive meal—she had the pork and figs; he had the rabbit—add a few drops of the wine (“Let’s make tonight a little special,” she’d whispered), and he can almost see her freeze into a block of solid gold. A square inch of that, and light the city; watch it shine. She’s fifty or so, lovely and thin, smiling nervously over the black gauze of her wrap because they’re late. He’s still dreaming, though, about that square inch—about how she’s been wealthy for so long, she doesn’t know what it means; she thinks she’s thrifty, and normal, but look at how even her eyes are richly cared for, glimmering, searching him for a sign he’s going to hurry.

Furman bustles beside her and holds out his left arm for her to take. He can feel her getting up the nerve to enjoy this, how she straightens her back as they approach the crowds of her acquaintances in their gold-and-white-and-black, how she starts to la-la a little Puccini to make herself feel comfortable. It’s the first time she’s been to the opera since her husband left her. Her hair is white, piled high and sprayed firm, light catching fire on the surface, and her face is long, with small eyes and almost epicanthic folds. This is a hard moment for her. Furman puts his hand over her arm, patting her gently, and Mary Babb looks quickly up at him. She exhales loudly and gives a little laugh. Furman walks her grandly into the opera house of Greenville, South Carolina. He does it perfectly; he has been walking women into rooms for nearly three decades now.

When he first came onto the stage at a debutante cotillion, at fifteen, he stumbled as he stood next to his date, blinked into the spotlights. Later, as he escorted more young women, he learned to stand a little behind them, smile only faintly, let the attention fall on the girls. His mother taught him this; it’s how he acts tonight. It’s how he brought his wife into this very room six months before she died.

The crowd stirs a little, water lilies floating from the prow of a boat, and faces turn to see Mary Babb and who she’s come with. “Furman!” some of the men shout heartily, and he gives sharp waves to them. He tries to remember sport scores and stories of the week, because that will help. If not, he’ll simply grin and listen over a cigar. Yes, a cigar will give him something to do. An overly made-up young woman takes his tickets as Mary Babb moves past him into the crowd, laughing as she’s carefully hugged and kissed—she’s back. The ticket taker stares at Furman and he gives her the flint spark of a grin.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.