Ms. Demeanor by Elinor Lipman

Author:Elinor Lipman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Count Me In

On Wednesdays, faithfully, Perry would cock his head in the direction of his bedroom and I’d pretty much jump to my feet. We’d return for dessert, a course I added so that our get-together seemed less transactional. Sometimes we got right to it upon my arrival, and I’d reheat dinner in the microwave. Cold food was showing up more and more on the menu.

There was the matter of invoices, too. I told him that I felt odd leaving the biweekly bill on the counter the way I did before we were having sex.

“Ridiculous,” he said. Of course he’d continue reimbursing me. This wasn’t Meals on Wheels. This was haute cuisine; okay, haute-retro cuisine, but that was fine. Very fine.

Our conversations remained pleasantly neutral. We didn’t discuss feelings. We were always mindful of how our six-month sentences were ticking down. Topics discussed at the table: weather vis-à-vis waning days of roof visits; renovations to the building that were increasing our identical monthly maintenance fees, New York City politics, absentee ballots, places we’d go to and eat at, shows and museum exhibitions we hoped would still be running when we were free.

I was careful not to imply that we’d be doing such things together. After one such wish-list recitation I asked as casually as I could, “What about your dance card?”

“Meaning?”

“Going out on dates when you’re free . . . with new people?”

He just shook his head, and looking disconcerted, took a spoonful of my first-ever vichyssoise.

I was immediately sorry I’d asked a question that had a relationship ring to it. For the first time since I’d been a prisoner of The Margate, a wholly new thought invaded my brain—Is it so bad being stuck here?

“What about you?” he asked finally. “New people?”

I shrugged. “It’s a long way off.”

He put his spoon down, wiped his mouth with his napkin, said carefully, “You seem to enjoy what we do. Quite a lot. Am I wrong?”

I knew what he was referring to: the certain heights I regularly reached. “For which you deserve all the credit,” I said.

“For which you’re very welcome.”

We returned to our soup. I couldn’t be tongue-tied, could I? I was a litigator. My job was to think on my feet, yet I was holding back in case an unreciprocated declaration slipped out. Perry asked what was in the soup. I looked down at it, its uninterrupted whiteness in his plain white soup bowls. “Potatoes, leeks, cream. It’s Anthony Bourdain’s recipe, may he rest in peace. But I forgot the chives. Don’t move.”

As I was chopping at the counter he surprised me with the question “Does your sister know what’s going on?”

I returned to the table and garnished our bowls. “If she does, you can bet it’s along the lines of lonely man plus lonely woman, confined to the same building, end up attending to each other’s needs.”

“Like you’re the only woman in the building?” Perry groused. “Is that what she thinks? Like that movie where we’re the only two people left on earth after a nuclear holocaust?”

I said, “No, no.

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.