two children, a seven-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl, and she was straightforward and commonsensical about them in a way Aileen was only now, just visibly pregnant, able to fully appreciate, as she constantly endured the unsolicited disquisitions of women who happened to have also experienced birth.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Aileen said. “The marriage being real.”
“Oh, Aileen,” Nora said, not chidingly but as if her worst fears for Aileen were confirmed. No one in Aileen’s family had been particularly enthusiastic about her marriage to Gaither, although no one had been less than polite. They were not the kind of family to intervene forcefully in one another’s affairs. But Aileen had been aware at the time that they all thought she was too young, that she was marrying Gaither out of a craving for direction, perhaps even constriction—that her rebelliousness was now taking the form of a precipitate rush 58 S U S A N C H O I
toward conventional life. And now she was aware that this assessment had been largely correct.
“He’s a good man,” Nora said tepidly, gazing through the window.
The pyramid of charcoal flared up, then went out.
“Oh, I know, ” Aileen snarled. “I know!” The conversation hadn’t gone any further; she hadn’t told Nora then that her marriage to Gaither, for her part, was already over. She had only grown more certain of this since the day she’d walked out on her porch; every day the conviction gained strength, in a way she persistently linked to the wonderful, palpable increase in strength of her child. Perhaps it was for this reason—that the as-yet-unborn child already seemed to be not just an actor in the unfolding drama but the chief co-conspirator—that Lee began to feel coldness and even hostility for him. Yes, him: another fact of which Aileen was certain. In the kitchen with Nora, Aileen felt the child kick, pedal, brusquely invert himself searching for room; these outbursts were always sustained, they made her think of tantrums, and if she was alone when they happened, she yelped with laughter. She hoarded these movements from Gaither; she never mentioned them to him. She couldn’t bear the idea of sharing them. But now she seized Nora’s hand eagerly and pressed it hard to herself, and the two of them laughed together.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Nora said when the thrashing subsided.
“I never thought I’d say something like this, but I think it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”
“A strong little critter,” Nora said.
“A strong boy,” Aileen corrected her.
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes. Weren’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Both times I think I changed my mind every few days.”
“Well, I’m sure,” Aileen said.
That summer Gaither had been determined to solve a problem one of the department professors had presented in the spring, and once Aileen was on her feet again, she encouraged him to make up for time lost tending her, which he finally, reluctantly, started to do. He would rise very early, as had always been his habit, and by the time she herself rolled clumsily out of bed and zipped up her housedress, she A P E R S O N O F I N T E R E S T 59
would know he’d been in the library for almost two hours. Nights she packed him a sandwich to take the next day so that he wouldn’t have to come home for his lunch; and when he came home in the evening for dinner, she had it ready for him and the table set and tumblers already full, so that he could sit down immediately and as quickly retreat upstairs afterward to his little home study. It interested her that these methods she’d found to minimize their contact coincided with those that seemed to make her an exemplary wife. The only fault of her system emerged when Gaither leaned toward her gratefully to wet her face with a kiss, and she would force herself to sit very still and receive it as the earth receives rain—she would tell herself
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Aileen said. “The marriage being real.”
“Oh, Aileen,” Nora said, not chidingly but as if her worst fears for Aileen were confirmed. No one in Aileen’s family had been particularly enthusiastic about her marriage to Gaither, although no one had been less than polite. They were not the kind of family to intervene forcefully in one another’s affairs. But Aileen had been aware at the time that they all thought she was too young, that she was marrying Gaither out of a craving for direction, perhaps even constriction—that her rebelliousness was now taking the form of a precipitate rush 58 S U S A N C H O I
toward conventional life. And now she was aware that this assessment had been largely correct.
“He’s a good man,” Nora said tepidly, gazing through the window.
The pyramid of charcoal flared up, then went out.
“Oh, I know, ” Aileen snarled. “I know!” The conversation hadn’t gone any further; she hadn’t told Nora then that her marriage to Gaither, for her part, was already over. She had only grown more certain of this since the day she’d walked out on her porch; every day the conviction gained strength, in a way she persistently linked to the wonderful, palpable increase in strength of her child. Perhaps it was for this reason—that the as-yet-unborn child already seemed to be not just an actor in the unfolding drama but the chief co-conspirator—that Lee began to feel coldness and even hostility for him. Yes, him: another fact of which Aileen was certain. In the kitchen with Nora, Aileen felt the child kick, pedal, brusquely invert himself searching for room; these outbursts were always sustained, they made her think of tantrums, and if she was alone when they happened, she yelped with laughter. She hoarded these movements from Gaither; she never mentioned them to him. She couldn’t bear the idea of sharing them. But now she seized Nora’s hand eagerly and pressed it hard to herself, and the two of them laughed together.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Nora said when the thrashing subsided.
“I never thought I’d say something like this, but I think it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.”
“A strong little critter,” Nora said.
“A strong boy,” Aileen corrected her.
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes. Weren’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Both times I think I changed my mind every few days.”
“Well, I’m sure,” Aileen said.
That summer Gaither had been determined to solve a problem one of the department professors had presented in the spring, and once Aileen was on her feet again, she encouraged him to make up for time lost tending her, which he finally, reluctantly, started to do. He would rise very early, as had always been his habit, and by the time she herself rolled clumsily out of bed and zipped up her housedress, she A P E R S O N O F I N T E R E S T 59
would know he’d been in the library for almost two hours. Nights she packed him a sandwich to take the next day so that he wouldn’t have to come home for his lunch; and when he came home in the evening for dinner, she had it ready for him and the table set and tumblers already full, so that he could sit down immediately and as quickly retreat upstairs afterward to his little home study. It interested her that these methods she’d found to minimize their contact coincided with those that seemed to make her an exemplary wife. The only fault of her system emerged when Gaither leaned toward her gratefully to wet her face with a kiss, and she would force herself to sit very still and receive it as the earth receives rain—she would tell herself
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