Wife 22

“Right,” said William.

William’s parents divorced when he was ten and his mother, Fiona, very quickly remarried a man with two other children. Hal and Fiona had a split custody agreement at first, but by the time William was twelve he was living with his dad full-time. William and Fiona weren’t close and he saw her infrequently, on holidays and special occasions. Another surprise. Both of us un-mothered.

56. I saved you an egg.

57. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.

53

John Yossarian changed his profile picture

So cute, Researcher 101! What’s her name?

I’m sorry but I can’t divulge that information.

Okay. Can you divulge what you like most about her?

Him. The way he touches his cold nose to my hand at six every morning. Just once. Then sits at attention by the side of the bed waiting patiently for me to wake.

So sweet-what else?

Well, right now he’s pushing his snout under my arm as I attempt to chat with yousdfsfd. Sorry. He gets jealous when I’m on the computer.

You’re very lucky. He sounds like a dream dog.

Oh, he is.

I do not have a dream dog. In fact, our dog is so ill behaved my husband wants to give him away.

It can’t be that bad.

He peed on my husband’s pillow. I’m afraid to have guests come over.

You should do some training.

Training is not the issue.

Of your husband.

Ha!

I’m not kidding. Loving an animal doesn’t come naturally to everybody. Some people have to be taught.

I don’t agree. You shouldn’t have to teach love.

Spoken by somebody to whom love comes easily.

What makes you say that, Researcher 101?

I can read between the lines.

The lines of my answers?

Yes.

Well, I’m not sure love comes easily, but I will say it is my default setting.

I’ve got to go. I’ll be emailing the next survey in a few days.

Wait-before you leave I wanted to ask you. Is everything okay? This is the first time you’ve been on Facebook in days.

Nothing’s wrong, just busy.

I was worried you might be angry.

This is what I hate about communicating online. There’s no way to judge tone.

So you’re not angry.

Why would I be angry?

I thought I might have offended you in some way.

By doing what?

Not answering your revised #48.

You’re allowed to take a pass on any question.

So I haven’t offended you?

You’ve done nothing to offend me-quite the opposite, actually-that’s the problem.

54

Shonda Perkins

PX90 30 days in!!

12 minutes ago

William Buckle

Dog. Yours for free. Must like being bitten.

One day ago

William Buckle

Recent Activity

William Buckle and Helen Davies are now friends

Two days ago

“Mail,” announces Peter, dropping an AARP magazine on my desk. He peers over my shoulder. “What’s with all the Dad postings? And who’s Helen Davies?”

“Somebody we used to work with.”

“Did she friend you, too?”

No, Helen Davies, Helen of Troy, did not friend me, too. She only friended my husband. Or he friended her. Does it matter who friended whom? Yes, it probably does.

I glare at the silver-haired couple on the cover of the AARP magazine. Damn it! I do not want to take advantage of a special offer for cataract drops, nor do I care to consider my line of sight above the steering wheel because I am NOT fifty and I won’t be fifty for another six years. Why do they keep sending me copies of their magazine? I thought I had taken care of this. Just last month I called AARP to explain that the Alice Buckle who recently turned fifty lived in Charleston, South Carolina, in a lovely old house with a huge wraparound porch. “And how did I know this?” they asked. “Because I Google Earthed her,” I told them. “Google Earth Alice Buckle in Oakland, California, and you will find a woman standing in her driveway hurling an AARP magazine back at her mailman.”

Old girlfriends resurfacing. Getting retirement magazines before your time. This is not a good way to start off my Saturday. I Google Monkey Yoga. There’s a class in twenty minutes. If I hurry I can make it.

“And-shavasana, everybody.”

Finally, corpse pose! My favorite part of yoga. I roll over onto my back. Usually by the end of the class I’m nearly asleep. Not today. Even my fingertips are pulsing with energy. I should be running with Caroline-not doing sun salutations.

“Eyes shut,” says the teacher, walking around the room.

I stare up at the ceiling.

“Empty your mind.”

What the hell is happening to me?

“For those of you that want a mantra, try Ong So Hung.”

How can she say that with a straight face?

“This means ‘Creator, I am Thou.’ ”