Things That Pass for Love by Allison Amend

Author:Allison Amend
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Things That Pass For Love
ISBN: 9781937854157
Publisher: Dzanc Books
Published: 2012-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW BEST

The Doctors Without Borders, Marca’s rowdiest book club, straggled in on the second Thursday of each month, except for August and December. The name was a pun on their boycott of the popular bookstore that didn’t work because it was spelled the same as the international medical organization. They had the tendency to repeat their office protocols at book club too, making everyone wait and then demanding a full hour, even if book club started forty-five minutes late. Their phones and beepers constantly erupted with electronic chirps, and the doctors spoke swiftly, regardless of whether someone else happened to be expressing his opinion at the time. The group was all male and mostly married; originally, it had boasted two female members, but they had dropped out due to “family considerations.” It was the book club’s uniquely masculine makeup that had catapulted Marca to book club facilitator “eminence”—after the long article in the City section of the Sunday Times, her website hits went up by a factor of 100. Now she had a waiting list.

Despite the doctors’ habitual tardiness, the doorbell rang tonight at precisely 7:00 PM. When she opened the door, she didn’t recognize the man standing there.

“Hello,” he said. “Am I early?”

“For book club?”

“Yes. Don said it would be OK if I joined. Am I early?” He rubbed his hands as though cold; Marca looked at them: meticulously groomed, nails polished.

“No,” Marca said. “You’re right on time. I’m just— I’m not used to the doctors being on time.”

“Radiologist,” he explained. “We’re a different breed.”

“Make yourself at home.” Marca stood back from the door. The man entered. He was on the short side, about Marca’s height, and his hair was beginning to thin at the top. He had a pleasant face, the kind that sold breakfast cereal or garden tools: high, round cheeks and an impossibly straight nose.

The man surveyed the living room, as though deciding where to sit was tantamount to diagnosing a fracture; then his gaze settled on the settee near the window. This was Marca’s favorite piece of furniture. Her grandmother had always insisted they sit on it when they had their tea parties. It was the first piece of furniture Marca’s grandparents had bought together, after he graduated from journeyman tailor to sole proprietor of a shop that was now part of a Chinese community center. The man sat down, moving pillows to support his back. Giorgio, her Lab/shepherd mix, plodded over to him and poked his face in the man’s crotch.

“Giorgio, stop,” Marca said, but the man merely smiled and lifted Giorgio’s face to his own, letting the dog cover him in slobbery licks. And then came the cooing noises that only animals elicit from men: high-pitched rhetorical questions and ear-scratching sound effects.

“His name is Giorgio?” the man asked. “Hello, Giorgio, I’m Peter. Yes, who’s a good dog?” Marca was unsurprised by the attention he paid to Gio. Everyone loved her dog. People stopped her on the street to ask his name and pet him.

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