Bodies and Souls by Nancy Thayer

with that look. You have never looked at me any other way, you have never given me a chance. Every time I stood at the entrance to your life, you have judged and dismissed me swiftly and harshly; it is always as if you were slamming a door in my face. But it’s done you no good, Judy Bennett, for I am in your house.
    How women like you tire and anger me with your pretentions, your cold superficialities. You really do believe you are better than I am, and you’ve consistently tried to impress this fact upon me. Well, your husband liked me well enough—and your son, your precious son, loves me.
    If one can call it love.
    It was in Londonton’s most elegant, expensive gift shop that we first saw each other, just two months ago. Johnny was there, sort of hulking around looking foolish, while Sarah showed him place mats and pottery bowls. I was standing by a high table covered with black velvet which displayed a variety of old-fashioned glass paperweights. I was looking for a gift for one of my midwestern friends who was soon to have a birthday, and I was so surprised to find the paperweights that I would not have looked up and seen Johnny if it had not been for Sarah’s voice. If he never thanks me for anything else, Johnny should thank me for sparing him a lifetime of listening to that voice—high, whiny, nasal. Sarah speaks as if she’s trying not to move her lips.
    “John, please,” she said. “I want to get some of these things down for the bridal registry. Do you like the place mats with the jelly-bean print or the butterfly print?” It was obvious that she was trying to show him off, but was irritated because he wasn’t suitably involved in the selection of wedding gifts.
    “Well,” Johnny said, trying to please, “they both seem kind of young to me. I like the plaid.”
    Oh, how exasperated she became! “Johnny, we have plaid already,” she hissed. Hadn’t he been paying attention?
    “Oh, Sarah, you have such good taste, and it’s sort of a woman’s thing to do. Why don’t you just decide.”
    “But it’s a new world ,” Sarah said, nearly in tears now. “You’re supposed to take an interest in the home if our marriage is going to last. I want you to like our place mats.”
    “Well—the jelly-beans. Yeah, the jelly-bean place mats are good. I really like them. All those different colors.”
    “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Sarah said, and immediately she perked right up. “They are cheerful, aren’t they? I wonder how many we should ask for. I mean, they aren’t right for a formal dinner. But if we have friends stay the night and for breakfast—”
    “Six. Or eight. Get eight to be sure,” John said.
    Sarah searched around in her handbag for her notebook and pencil, and called out brightly to the saleslady, “I’m just adding a few more things to our list here.”
    “Dear, if you like those jelly-bean place mats, you might want to see these,” the saleslady said, spotting an easy sale.
    Sarah tripped off to talk with the saleslady, and Johnny looked up and saw me staring at him.
    Looking at Johnny was like looking at a thick sable coat. All my instincts said: Touch. Feel. Stroke. Rub. It had been a while since I’d paid serious attention to any man, but even so, Johnny would have stopped me in my tracks any day. Six feet two inches tall, with big shoulders, a wide chest that tapers down to a smooth slim stomach, and such lovely long long slim legs. He was wearing a green and blue striped sweater, and oxford-cloth button-down blue shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. I just stared and stared. He has such thick blond hair—none of that thinning stuff that other men (like his father) have, but real thick, vibrant hair, falling down over his forehead. His eyes are green and his lashes are long. Honey child , I thought. I smiled at him. He smiled at me, a slow, easy, confident swagger of a smile. In a flash I saw that life had always been good to him, that he had never lacked for the love