Paper Doll

chapter forty-two

I STOOD AT my stove pouring a thin stream of cornmeal into simmering milk. As it went in, I stirred with a whisk.

“Cornmeal mush?” Susan said.

“We gourmets prefer to call it polenta,” I said.

I put the whisk down and picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the cornmeal more slowly as it thickened.

“What are those crumby things on the platter?” Susan said.

She was sitting at my counter going through a glass of Gewurztraminer at the speed of erosion. She was wearing a pair of fitted tan slacks, a lemon sweater, and a matching tan coat that was part of the outfit and reached to her knees. She looked like Hollywood’s vision of the successful female executive.

“Those are chicken breasts pounded flat and coated with cornbread crumbs,” I said. “And flavored with rosemary.”

“Will you fry them in lard?” Susan said.

“I will coat a fry pan with corn oil and then pour it out, leaving a thin film in the pan, then I will gently saute the breast cutlets until golden brown,” I said.

“Exactly,” Susan said.

“And for dessert,” I said, “there’s sour cherry pie.”

She poured a teaspoon more wine into her glass. Pearl reared up beside her and put her front paws on the counter and made a try for the chicken cutlets. She missed and I picked up a scrap from the cutting board and gave it to her.

“You are rewarding inappropriate behavior,” Susan said.

“Yes.”

Pearl dashed into the bedroom to eat the chicken scrap. I kept stirring the polenta waiting for it to be right.

“You haven’t said a word about things in Alton,” Susan said.

“I know. I need to think about it,” I said.

“Before you talk to me?” Susan said.

“Yes.”

Susan raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes.

“You know,” I said, “since I saw you in that guidance office in Smithfield in 1974, I have never looked at you without feeling a small thrill of electricity in my solar plexus.”

The polenta was done. I took it off the stove and let it rest on a trivet on the counter.

“Even first thing in the morning when I don’t have my face on and I have my hair up?” Susan said.

“Even then,” I said. “Although in those circumstances I’m probably reacting to potential.”

Susan leaned forward over the counter and kissed me. I kissed her back and felt the residual darkness of that atrium room begin to recede. She pressed her mouth against mine harder as if she could feel my need and put her hands gently on each side of my face and opened her mouth. I put my hands under her arms and lifted her out of the chair and over the counter. It knocked her wineglass over and it broke on the floor. Neither of us paid it any attention. The feel of her against me was rejuvenating, like air long needed, like thirst quenched. We stood for a long time, fiercely together. We never made it to the bedroom. We did well to make the couch.

Afterwards we lay quietly with each other, and Pearl, who had managed to find room on the couch where I would have said there was none.

“In front of the baby,” Susan said.

Her voice had that quality it always had after lovemaking. As if she were on her way back from somewhere far that she’d been.

“Maybe she showed a little class,” I said, “and looked away.”

“I seem to recall her barking at a very critical juncture.”

“For heaven’s sake,” I said. “I thought that was you.”

Susan giggled into my shoulder where she was resting her head.

“You yanked me right over the counter,” she said.

“I didn’t yank,” I said. “I swept.”

“And spilled the wine and broke the wineglass.”

“Seemed worth it at the time,” I said.

“Usually I like to undress and hang my clothes up neatly.”

“So why didn’t you resist?” I said.

“And miss all the fun?”

“Of course not.”

“When do you think you’ll talk about Alton?”

“Pretty soon,” I said. “I just have to give it a little time.”

Susan nodded and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

“Let’s leap up,” she said. “And guzzle some polenta.”

“Guzzle?”

“Sure.”

“We gourmets usually say savor,” I said.

Susan nodded and got off the couch and got her clothes rearranged. Then she looked at me and smiled and shook her head.

“Right over the goddamned counter,” she said.