Smart Women (41 page)

“But you need to get out of the house more, to mingle,” Norman said.

“I don’t need to be around people all the time.”

“You lack self-confidence.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m trying to tell you, trying to help you, if only you’ll let me.”

“Do you want more rice?”

“Yes, thank you. I think The Club is the answer, San.”

“Oh, please, Norm, don’t start that again.”

“I thought we agreed that as soon as the kids left you’d give it another try.”

“Look, I told you when you joined that it wasn’t my thing . . . that I didn’t want any part of it. So don’t expect . . . don’t ask me to . . .” She got up to clear away the dishes.

“Look at your sister,” Norman said.

“You look at her.”

“Four years older than you.”

“Three and a half, but who’s counting?”

“She loves The Club, practically lives there.”

“She was always the family athlete.”

“Tan and firm, in terrific shape.”

“I failed gym in eighth grade, did you know that?” She put a plate of cookies on the table and set two cups of cold water, with tea bags, in the new microwave oven.

“You’re not in the eighth grade anymore, Sandy.” He took a bite of one of the cookies. “Pepperidge Farm?”

“No, Keeblers.” The microwave pinged and Sandy carried the teacups to the table. “Myra got straight A’s in gym, all the way through school. She won letters. She was a goddamned cheerleader!”

“You ought to learn to do more with the microwave than just heat water.”

“I don’t like gadgets.”

“Because you lack self-confidence.”

“What does self-confidence have to do with the microwave?”

“What do gadgets have to do with it?”

“I tried The Club, Norm. I took two golf lessons and two tennis lessons and I was awful. I just don’t have the aptitude, the coordination.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Sandy. You could be as good as most of the girls if you’d make the effort.” He crunched another cookie. “Why don’t you have your hair done . . . buy yourself something new to wear . . . you used to look terrific yourself.”

“Jesus, you sound like my mother now.”

“So she’s noticed too?”

“I’ve been sick, Norm!”

“That was months ago. That’s no excuse for now.”

Sandy went to the sink and turned the water on full blast.

“I guess I’ll walk Banushka,” Norman said.

“You do that!”

“Oh, San, for God’s sake.” He tried to put his arms around her but she brushed him away. “You’re so damned
touchy
these days,” he said. “I can’t even talk to you anymore.”

Anymore?
Sandy thought. But she didn’t say it.

As soon as she heard the back door close she picked up a plate and flung it across the kitchen. It smashed into tiny pieces. She felt better.

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