I met with a client midmorning. After that I was free. I went to the mall. There weren't many people there, but there were more than I had expected. I was tempted to take off my wedding band, but at this point I don't think it would make a difference. I should start off slowly, I thought. Just be friendly and say hi to people. I typically don't speak with strangers unless I have to, but I'm going to make the effort to open up and be more social.
Wedding band still on, I walked around. I went in and out of stores, looked through tie racks, shoe displays, tried on hats, did that sort of thing. It was at the fragrance department at one of the big stores that Jenny asked if I needed help─I saw her nametag. If it had been even two days earlier I would have been fine, perfectly normal, but now I was feeling nervous and that took me by surprise. It's so true that it's all in the mind. This was a good opportunity for me to practice chatting it up with a stranger, and a pretty one at that, but I didn't. "I'm just looking around," I said.
"Let me know if you need anything," she said and smiled.
"Thanks."
I walked around for a few minutes and then left.
I felt guilty that I had gone to the mall with the intention, if vague, to start learning to approach women. Then I remembered that it was something I had to do. I had to leave then and that was that.
I felt Nanda get out of bed and a few minutes later heard her get in the shower. It was five twenty-seven in the morning and as usual she had gotten up before the alarm clock sounded. It was still dark outside and I hadn’t been up that early in a while, but I wasn’t tired and thought it would be nice to have breakfast with Nanda. I got out of bed, opened the window, and looked out. The pleasant early morning smell reminded me of chilly walks to school when I was nine. I could hear the soft humming of distant cars and trucks carrying sleepy-eyed drivers and deliveries to just-opened offices and warehouses. It was cold outside. I looked around for a few more moments and then closed the window. I went to the bathroom and opened the door, but I don’t think Nanda heard me.
“Babe, it’s me, I don’t want to startle you,” I said.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“No. I just woke up. I’m not tired.” I put the toilet lid up and took a leak. “You feel like pancakes?”
“Pancakes sound good.”
“Awesome. I’ll go down and make us some.”
I flushed the toilet and put the lid back down. Then I washed my hands and dried them, and when I opened the door to get out, Nanda said, “Babe, can you get me a clean towel? I got this one wet.”
“Sure.”
I grabbed a clean towel from the closet and hung it over the shower curtain.
“Thanks, Babe,” she said. I was on my way out again when I heard, “Come take a look at this.” I opened the shower curtain and Nanda turned around and wrapped her arms around me saying, “How about a morning hug?” She pulled me close and began to laugh.
“Hold on!” I tried to back up. “Babe!” I was getting wet.
“Just a little morning hug for my morning bug,” she said and kept on laughing. This was just the kind of thing I would pull on her and this time it was my turn. “No wonder you’re always doing crap like this. It feels so good!”
“I was going to make you breakfast,” I said standing wet in her arms, but by then I couldn’t help laughing too. I kissed her and said, “Okay, okay. Let me go make breakfast.” She kissed me again and let go.
By the time I was finishing up making breakfast, Nanda was on her way down. I served the plates, she poured the orange juice, and we sat down to eat.
“What are you doing today?” she said.
“I need to go to the bank to talk to Larry about some of the details on the financing on the new place. After that, Peter wants to talk about a 5-plex he thinks I’ll be interested in. Then I might go check up on some of the properties. I was thinking of going to the bookstore when I’m done.”
“I’m glad you’re going by the bookstore,” she said. “Can you pick something up for me?”
She took a napkin, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. It said: “A ‘Gravity's Rainbow’ Companion: Sources and Contexts for Pynchon's Novel by Steven C. Weisenburger.”
I laughed. “Need a little help?”
“I’m finishing it,” she said.
I went to the bank and spoke with Peter about the 5-plex. I told him I didn’t have any managers in the area and it might mean higher management costs for me, but that I’d look into it and I’d let him know. He asked if I’d go to lunch with him and we agreed to meet at noon. I still had two hours until then and headed to the bookstore by the university.
I’d gotten used taking off my wedding band, but during those times I was always hyper-aware of my exposed finger. I felt that everyone around me was also aware of it, as if I wore a sign pointing to its absense. I had learned to take the ring off and put it back on quickly inside my pants pocket and out of view.
I got out of the car and as I walked across the bookstore parking lot with my hands in my pockets. I took the ring off with the dexterity I imagine a sleight of hand artist might possess. Although I had gotten used to the physical taking off and putting back on of the ring, I still wasn’t comfortable not wearing it. Every time I took it off I felt nervous, like a twelve-year-old magician after disappearing a coin and wondering if the audience had been aware of the sleight.
I walked into the bookstore and went straight to the fiction section. I had meant to read some of Richard Powers’s novels for a while and decided to start with Galatea 2.2. I found it right away and then set out to find the book Nanda had asked for. When I didn’t see it next to Pynchon’s novels, I asked for help, but was told they didn’t have it in stock. The lady asked me if I wanted her to order it for me. I told her I’d get it online instead.
It wasn’t cold anymore. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for playing tennis or a round of golf. I walked around the university campus remembering my student days and ended up sitting on a bench by the student union. I read the back cover of Galatea 2.2 and then the front and back flaps. Bruce Bawer of The Washington Post Book World said of Powers’s prose that it “soars like the most magnificent of choirs...” I was looking forward to my time with this book. I flipped through the pages stopping at random passages and reading them. I’d flipped about half way through the book when I looked up and saw that the walkways and corridors that had been empty just moments before had begun to fill up with students. The benches around me were being taken. A blonde kid on a cell phone sat beside me just long enough to finish his phone call and left. Then a short Asian fellow riding a skateboard sat down and took a notebook out of his backpack. He ripped a page out, folded it, and put it in his pocket. He put the notebook back in his backpack and left carrying his skateboard by the trucks.
It wasn’t until a girl approached that I again became aware that I wasn’t wearing the ring. She was thin and had straight black hair that fell just below her shoulders.
“May I sit here?” she said.
“Sure.”
She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked around as if waiting for someone. I wasn’t sure what to do. I thought I should say something, but the very thought of having to say something made me nervous. I didn’t say anything. Instead I continued flipping through my book. I tried to read random passages as I had been before, but now I couldn’t. It seemed my eyes could follow the text, but I couldn’t get any meaning from it. I was about to ask her if she was waiting for someone when I imagined that she could see the ring in my pocket. She couldn’t see it, of course; it was ridiculous for me to think such things.
I was surprised when she asked me what I was reading. I closed the book and turned the cover toward her so that she could see it. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “I could see a bit of the cover while you were reading.”
“Have you read it?”
“No, but I’ve read The Gold Bug Variations.”
“This is my first Powers book.”
“He’s cool. A really nerdy cool.”
“Are you reading anything now?”
“Yeah, I’m reading In Cold Blood.” Her legs were crossed at the knee. She uncrossed them, crossed them again at the ankle, and placed her hands between them, palm to palm.
“How is it?”
“It’s really good.”
“Are you one of those people who loves everything they read?”
“I’ve been lucky lately, I think. It’s rare that I love something, though.”
“Me too. I read a lot, but it’s not often I love something.” There was a pause. We both looked around. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“No, my class was cancelled. I have two hours to kill and thought I’d sit down for a while.”
“What are you studying?”
“Getting my master’s in M.I.S.” She rubbed her hands together. “You a grad student?”
“No. I’m not a student anymore. I was just at the bookstore and thought I’d walk around campus.”
“You look like a grad student.” There was a short pause. “Are you going to be here?” she asked pointing at the bench.
“For a bit.”
“I’m going to grab a sandwich. Hold my seat?” The campus crowd had dwindled to a handful of people and all the benches around us were empty but one.
“Will do.”
She got up and left. I wondered if she’d be back. She did ask me to hold her seat. She wouldn’t do that unless she was planning on coming back, I figured. I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me. Perhaps she was just very friendly.
She was back very soon.
“I’m sorry, would you like anything?” she said.
“No, thanks. I’m going to meet someone for lunch in about an hour.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, thanks.”
And she left again. This was all very strange to me because it just happened without my having to do anything. I did take off my ring, but that’s all I did. I was sitting there looking through my book and before I knew it, I was talking with a girl I didn’t know. This alone could hardly count as cheating. Nanda has lunch with male coworkers all the time, and that’s never been something that bothered me. I’d just met this girl, and I still didn’t know her name, but I realized I’d most likely have to lie to her. If she asked about family, for instance, I couldn’t just come out and say I was married. I was somehow saddened that I’d have to lie to this momentarily nameless girl. It was a lie on two fronts: a lie to Nanda and a lie to the new girl. I’m not used to being a liar, and I don’t like it, but how else could I do this?
The girl returned with a sandwich and a drink.
“I was just thinking I still don’t know your name,” I said. “My name is Keith.”
“I’m Laura.” We shook hands and smiled.
She ate her sandwich. We talked about books and movies and other things. She was born in Denver but came out here as an undergrad and has been here since. She drives a Honda Civic; plays tennis; has never owned a pet, but loves playing with other people’s; loves to fly; is afraid of boats and the ocean in general; can bench press one hundred fifteen pounds; clips coupons; and would never wear contacts. I know there was more, but those are the things I remember. And me—I lied. Well, I didn’t tell the truth. I didn’t say I was married.
I had to meet with Peter for lunch and told Laura I had to go.
“I’m usually here or in the student union at about this time Tuesdays and Thursdays,” she said. “If you come by the bookstore and walk around campus and see me, I hope you’ll say hi.”
“I’ll do that.”
I went by the Student Union the following Thursday and the Tuesday after that, and didn’t see her.
