AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh my God.”
“He killed himself. They were doing intake at MetDet. He picked up a pencil, snapped the chain it was on, and stabbed himself in the jugular vein. Alvarez says maybe it was dumb luck, but the intake sergeant says it looked like he knew right where to put it.”
“Maybe he had medical training.”
“Sandi, he was a plumber.”
That makes her laugh, which makes Wilson laugh. He puts his forehead against hers.
“It’s not funny,” Sandi says, “but the way you said it was. Plumber.” She laughs again.
“He fought them, Alvarez said. All the time the blood was pumping out—spurting out—he fought them. When he passed out they got him to Presbyterian, but it was too late. He’d lost too much blood.”
“Turn off the TV for me,” Sandi says. “I’ll scramble you some eggs.”
“And bacon?”
“Bad for your cholesterol, but tonight… okay.”
They make love that night for the first time in… weeks? No, longer. A month at least. It’s good. When it’s over, Sandi says, “Are you still smoking?”
He thinks about lying. He thinks about the now-deceased plumber saying She started picking. Picking and picking and picking. He thinks about how nice this evening was. How different from the last six or eight months.
They change, Lennie said. They become short-tempered and critical.
He doesn’t lie. He says he still smokes, but not much. Half a pack a day at most, expecting her to say Even that can kill you.
She doesn’t. She says, “Have you got any handy? If you do, give me one, please.”
“You haven’t smoked in—”
“There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been putting it off.”
Oh God, Wilson thinks.
He turns on his bedside lamp. His keys, wallet, phone, and a little change are scattered across the top of the table. He’s put his service weapon in the drawer. He always does. Behind it is a pack of Marlboros and a Bic lighter. He gives her one, thinking After all these years without, a single puff will probably knock her flat.
“Take one for yourself.”
“I don’t have an ashtray. When I want one, I usually go in the guest bathroom.”
“We’ll use my water glass.”
He lights her up, then his own. Smoking in bed, like when they were first married and thought they’d have a couple of kids and live happily ever after. Twelve years later, there are no kids and Wilson is feeling mighty mortal.
“You’re not going to tell me you want a divorce, are you?” He’s joking. He’s not joking.
“No. I want to tell you why I’ve been so fucking grumpy and hard to live with since this spring.”
“Okay…”
She puffs her cigarette but doesn’t inhale. “I’ve been wobbling.”
“I don’t know what that means, Sandi.”
“It means I’m going into menopause, Frank. Pretty soon it’ll be meno-stop.”
“Are you sure?”
