Commuters: A Novel by Emily Gray Tedrowe

Author:Emily Gray Tedrowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American First Novelists, New York (State), Upper class families, Family Life, General, Fiction - General, Marriage, Older people, American Contemporary Fiction - Individual Authors +, Fiction
ISBN: 9780061859472
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-09-15T08:48:45.059000+00:00

Thirteen

WINNIE

By the time drinks had been poured and hors d’oeuvres were circulating through the living room, Winnie felt better. The hors d’oeuvres, at least those that she’d seen so far, were reassuringly normal: cheese puffs, a bowl of roasted nuts. At Bob’s urging, Lila had put in a tape of her recent diving meet, and a group had gathered around the silent television to watch a revolving series of young girls, in matching green swimsuits, who stood as still as statues on the board and then launched themselves into the air with gusto. Bob and Melissa and the others—whooping or shaking their heads in unison—seemed to be able to tell the most minute differences between the divers and their dives, so Winnie pretended to also, though she wasn’t always sure which one was Lila, even. The fire was coming along nicely, after several false starts and many interventions, and a flickery warmth had filled the room.

In fact, it had become a little too warm in the living room, but of course Winnie was wearing a turtleneck sweater—of close-knit blue silk, but a turtleneck nonetheless. The patch of darker skin near her jaw had not receded or faded. If anything, the pigment had deepened further, and now the affected area seemed to be spreading down the left side of her throat. Rachel insisted you could hardly notice it, and if Dr. Reynolds wasn’t worried—and he wasn’t, though she’d been back twice to check—then Winnie should really try to forget about it…Had she tried some makeup, like foundation or concealer?

Yes, of course she had. With dismal results. Last week, when she had been together with Jerry—in her bed, in the middle of their tender contortions—Winnie had become paralyzed by the fear that he might look down at the spot on her jaw, in the moment, and think it ugly. She was distracted, and then ashamed of her inattention, and then miserable on both accounts. So she had edged a pillow closer to her face, and then closer, and all the while they had continued to make love, until she had the pillow arranged, just so, over most of her cheek and throat.

Jerry had opened his eyes then and flipped the pillow out of the way. “Are you trying to smother yourself?” he’d exclaimed, with the barely restrained exasperation of a man interrupted. She had to laugh. And then they had resumed that slow, sweet work, and Winnie forgot the spot on her skin.

But it was harder to forget it now, and if she wasn’t tugging the turtleneck up almost to her lips—a silly, unhelpful gesture, she knew—she had to fight herself from ducking into the tiny powder room under the staircase, each time she passed by, in order to confirm that the spot was still there. It was always still there.

Avery’s friends were perfectly pleasant, even if they were keeping mostly to themselves, so far. It had been a real surprise to see how, well, old his girlfriend was, though she was

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