LITMIR.BIZ

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something about the simplicity of it that hurt more than the screaming fights. He was so easily done. Finished. Why couldn’t she have made the break long ago? She knew why—it was embarrassing to be so foolish, so wrong, at her age.

      When Bryce came, he was with one of his closest friends, using his truck to load the big screen, sound system and speakers, boxes of clothes and books, toiletries and miscellany. Bryce rode away behind his possessions on his motorcycle and all the while Bob, working in the kitchen, managed to stay very busy and very quiet. It was completely over in an hour and Bryce would never be back. He hadn’t even waved goodbye.

      The trash was full of Sonja’s concoctions, the entire house was filled with dust from Bob’s construction in the kitchen plus the odor of burnt sage from Sonja’s cleansing voodoo. Gerri, who was Andy’s rock, was distracted by some heavy work problem and felt terrible about her lack of support, but Andy reassured her that she was getting along pretty well. She’d gone back to work the morning after the boy toys disappeared from her life.

      While there was a part of her that wished for quiet and solitude in the evenings, there was another part grateful that Bob was in her kitchen, pleasantly working away as the sun set. She sat on her bed with the news on, there being no TV in the family room anymore, and took odd comfort in the humming, whistling and construction noise.

      She wandered into the kitchen. “How’s it going?” she asked him.

      “Good,” he said. The crowbar was being used to pry the old, chipped ceramic tiles off the floor. “Very good.”

      “I’m going to have a glass of wine,” she said. “What can I give you?”

      “Oh, I’m just fine with water.”

      “I didn’t mean I was going to get you liquored up,” she laughed. “I realize you use power tools. But how about a cola or something?”

      He looked up from his work, smiling. He wiped a rag across his sweating bald head. “That would sure be nice, thanks.”

      She went for a glass in the laundry room where she kept the few dishes she needed since the kitchen cupboards had been torn out and carried away. The refrigerator was purring along in the garage now. She couldn’t actually cook anything but she could get ice and keep things cold. As she looked inside she said, “Hey, have you eaten?”

      “I have,” he said. “Had something on my way over.”

      “How about Beau?” she asked, and as she did so, the yellow Lab lifted his head and looked at her with those sad eyes that suggested he hadn’t been fed in days, lying eyes that made her laugh.

      “Don’t believe a word he says. I always take care of Beau first,” Bob said.

      She poured his cola, her white wine. She settled at the table in the nook, still undisturbed and covered with dust. “Could I ask you a personal question?”

      He glanced over his shoulder. “Sure. If I get confused by it, I’ll make up an answer.”

      “Funny,” she said. “Why did you and your wife separate?”

      “Oh, that,” he chuckled. “It’s real simple, actually. She left me. She’s gay.”

      Andy actually choked on her first swallow of wine. “Gay?” she echoed.

      He laughed. “Don’t ask me the chronology of that, okay? I mean, since birth, I assume, but of course, I had no idea. We weren’t exactly kids when we got married. I was over forty, she was over thirty. It was something she struggled with, spent a lot of time at church, trying to get the cure. I think she just wanted to be like everyone else—live an average life and have children. But that’s really not the way to go.”

      “Holy shit, Bob,” Andy said.

      “Life’s not easy if you’re gay, even in San Francisco. If your family thinks you’re just being difficult people keep trying to impress that all you have to do is concentrate and you’ll stop being gay. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

      “Well, I’ll say,” Andy said, taking a gulp. She wanted to know everything, right now. How’d that work? What made her choose him? How was sex? And the one she couldn’t help, “You didn’t have the first idea? Going in?”

      “No,” he said, shaking his head. “That was stupid of me and wrong of her, I guess. But I understand. I think she was really trying. She had high hopes.”

      “Oh, man,” she said, overwhelmed. “I gotta know— How long did it last?”

      “The time we were together? A couple of years from the time we met. She’s such a sweet girl. We were good friends first, then decided to get married. I admit, when she first told me she just couldn’t pretend to be straight anymore, I was mad. But I couldn’t stay mad at her, you know? Her life was more of a struggle than mine, so I learned a little tolerance. For a long time there I’d been worried she was sick or something, but finally she just told me the truth, she’d thought she could stop being a lesbian and could be married with children, but it just wasn’t going to happen.” He lifted his head and looked upward as if remembering. “She asked me if it would be okay if she left. And I said of course. What was I going to say? No?”

      “But did it... Well, you know... Did it damage your masculinity?”

      He laughed. “I didn’t have that much experience with my masculinity,” he said.

      “But you were an older guy and—”

      She stopped. I’m having this conversation with my kitchen carpenter, she thought, internally appalled. Yet she couldn’t help it. His take on this was fascinating.

      “Nah,” was all he said.

      “Did you ever hear from her again?” she asked.

      “Oh, yes, all the time,” he said. “Once or twice a year now, at least. She’s with someone now, very happy. They’ve been together quite a while. They’d like to have a child together. In fact, I was offered the job, but I declined. They both like me,” he said with a lovable, almost mischievous grin. “She’s still just the nicest, sweetest girl. She always thinks to ask me how I am. And I’m the same as before.”

      “Wow,” Andy said. And I thought he was an ordinary workman with an ordinary life. But there was something about him that, in all its simplicity, was deep. Thoughtful.

      “Doesn’t she want a divorce?” Andy heard herself ask.

      “I think it’s kind of irrelevant,” he said.

      “Well, how do you know? You might meet someone someday.”

      “Aw, I sort of doubt that. A little late in the game for me. But I have her phone number. If I called her and said something about that, there wouldn’t be a problem. We had an agreement when she left—real simple and nonlegal, you know. The date of the split, the assets—which were as close to zero as you can get. I scrounged up a couple thousand dollars to help her get on her feet and she was so grateful for that. We’re good.”

      “You gave her money, too?” Andy asked.

      “Well, she had to have some walking-around money. It’s not easy to start over, especially around here.”

      “Bob, I think you’re pure gold.”

      “Me? Nah, anyone would’ve done that. Like I said, she’s a real sweet girl. I’m just so glad to know she’s okay.” He looked at her closely. “Understand?”

      All she could think was, I want to be like you. That pure. So undamaged even though he’d gone through a potentially devastating experience. “Sounds like you’ve completely forgiven her. For lying to you, for trying to have a straight life at your expense.”

      “Mrs....Andy, it didn’t cost me anything to forgive her for that. I just assume everyone is doing the best they can. Besides, she’s a good person.” He looked at her and asked. “How are you getting along since...you

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