bed on her own. First she bathed the kids, taking care not to cry in front of Justin so he wouldn’t be worried. Then she tucked him into bed and walked to the living room where she put the radio on Cloud 95 and sat down in a rocking chair with her baby. She held his head nuzzled between her breasts and hummed the songs playing on the radio. Cat Stevens. The Carpenters.
But she didn’t pay any attention to the songs or the baby. It was Manny she thought about. His work had called at noon looking for him. Then they called back a couple hours later and they said he left and never came back for the meetings scheduled for that afternoon. This was not like anything he had ever done before. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her ear was sore from pressing the phone against it earlier when she called the base looking for her husband. By the time she had gotten through to someone who had any information about him, it was 8 p.m. All they could tell her was Manny had been seen leaving the west gate just before noon. No, they didn’t know why. And now it was eleven and she was sitting in her living room wondering what was bothering Manny so much that he’d risk his job and his family to go AWOL. What if something was wrong with him psychologically? Maybe he was schizophrenic or hallucinating or something. But her biggest fear was the one she refused to acknowledge. That beneath his cover of perfection, he was actually disloyal. Maybe he was just too perfect. Too good to be true.
Manny, let it be anything except you leaving me for another woman. Please. We have such wonderful memories. A beautiful wedding atLake Havasu. Two handsome boys. IRAs. Nine years, for the love of God, and I’m not going to let one stupid little mistake come between us like this. But the later it became, the more she began to worry that maybe he hadn’t left her. Maybe he was hurt somewhere. He wouldn’t get involved in drugs or gambling, would he? No, he’s on his way right now. Yes, that’s my Manny. Something came up but he’ll be back soon. He’ll walk through the door any minute and he’ll explain everything and then it will all be back to normal. I mean, he was fine this morning. He’ll come home and explain everything and compliment my hair. We’ll go to bed and wake up in the morning and life will go on. It always does, with Manny talking about his next promotion and where we’ll send our sons to college and where we’re going to build our retirement home. Stella hummed to the baby and listened to the swamp cooler whirring on the roof. The sliding glass doors shook a little as an F-15 flew overhead. He’ll walk through the door and tell me he loves me and give me an explanation and I’ll see all of this dumb worrying was for nothing.
So what’s on your mind, Manny? Vinnie shook salt into his beer to keep the bubbles down. He looked up at Manny and smiled.
What’s on my mind? he wanted to say. You’re on my mind. He sipped his drink and said I’m a little tipsy Vinnie, but I just felt like talking, like getting to know you. Sometimes you see someone and they look like a person with things to say. You look like that to me. I see you around the base all the time and you know—shit, Manny thought, you’re rambling. Making an ass of yourself. But Vinnie still looked interested, so Manny started over. Remember last night at the Loveboat?
The couch dance. Sure. Why?
Well, after you left—
Yeah, I heard.
Was that disgust that came across his face? Curiosity? Pity? Manny couldn’t tell. The whole thing was going down wrong. It was all too awkward. He decided to take a different approach. His hand drifted across the table, stopping just short of Vinnie’s. Look, Vinnie. Something’s been happening to me. I have these mixed-up feelings. I need someone to listen.
I’m listening. He put his hand on top of Manny’s, patted it, drew his own away again.
Manny stuttered, choked up. He couldn’t think of what he had intended to
But she didn’t pay any attention to the songs or the baby. It was Manny she thought about. His work had called at noon looking for him. Then they called back a couple hours later and they said he left and never came back for the meetings scheduled for that afternoon. This was not like anything he had ever done before. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her ear was sore from pressing the phone against it earlier when she called the base looking for her husband. By the time she had gotten through to someone who had any information about him, it was 8 p.m. All they could tell her was Manny had been seen leaving the west gate just before noon. No, they didn’t know why. And now it was eleven and she was sitting in her living room wondering what was bothering Manny so much that he’d risk his job and his family to go AWOL. What if something was wrong with him psychologically? Maybe he was schizophrenic or hallucinating or something. But her biggest fear was the one she refused to acknowledge. That beneath his cover of perfection, he was actually disloyal. Maybe he was just too perfect. Too good to be true.
Manny, let it be anything except you leaving me for another woman. Please. We have such wonderful memories. A beautiful wedding atLake Havasu. Two handsome boys. IRAs. Nine years, for the love of God, and I’m not going to let one stupid little mistake come between us like this. But the later it became, the more she began to worry that maybe he hadn’t left her. Maybe he was hurt somewhere. He wouldn’t get involved in drugs or gambling, would he? No, he’s on his way right now. Yes, that’s my Manny. Something came up but he’ll be back soon. He’ll walk through the door any minute and he’ll explain everything and then it will all be back to normal. I mean, he was fine this morning. He’ll come home and explain everything and compliment my hair. We’ll go to bed and wake up in the morning and life will go on. It always does, with Manny talking about his next promotion and where we’ll send our sons to college and where we’re going to build our retirement home. Stella hummed to the baby and listened to the swamp cooler whirring on the roof. The sliding glass doors shook a little as an F-15 flew overhead. He’ll walk through the door and tell me he loves me and give me an explanation and I’ll see all of this dumb worrying was for nothing.
So what’s on your mind, Manny? Vinnie shook salt into his beer to keep the bubbles down. He looked up at Manny and smiled.
What’s on my mind? he wanted to say. You’re on my mind. He sipped his drink and said I’m a little tipsy Vinnie, but I just felt like talking, like getting to know you. Sometimes you see someone and they look like a person with things to say. You look like that to me. I see you around the base all the time and you know—shit, Manny thought, you’re rambling. Making an ass of yourself. But Vinnie still looked interested, so Manny started over. Remember last night at the Loveboat?
The couch dance. Sure. Why?
Well, after you left—
Yeah, I heard.
Was that disgust that came across his face? Curiosity? Pity? Manny couldn’t tell. The whole thing was going down wrong. It was all too awkward. He decided to take a different approach. His hand drifted across the table, stopping just short of Vinnie’s. Look, Vinnie. Something’s been happening to me. I have these mixed-up feelings. I need someone to listen.
I’m listening. He put his hand on top of Manny’s, patted it, drew his own away again.
Manny stuttered, choked up. He couldn’t think of what he had intended to
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