Wife 22

Nedra (peeling back the aluminum foil, her face aglow with delight): You brought something, too?

William: I made it. It’s a traditional Swedish delicacy.

Nedra: William, darling, I’m so impressed. Alice, put the lingonberry jam on the table, will you? The Styrofoam cup is a nice touch, by the way.

7:48: Still standing in the kitchen

Linda: Wait until you have to move your kid to college. It’s like childbirth, or marriage; nobody tells you the truth about how hard it is.

Kate: Come on, it can’t be that bad.

Bobby: Did we tell you the twin master suites are finished?

Linda: First I had to get up at five in the morning to log on to get Daniel’s scheduled move- in time. It’s first come first served, and everybody wants the 7-to-9 a.m. slot. If you don’t get that slot you’re screwed.

Nedra: Why didn’t you make Daniel get up at five in the morning?

Linda (waving her hand, dismissing the idea that an eighteen-year-old boy could possibly be counted upon to set an alarm clock correctly): I got the 7-to-9 a.m. slot. We arrived on campus at 6:45 and already there were huge lines of parents and kids waiting for the four elevators that serviced the entire dorm. Clearly there was a 5-to-7 a.m. the-rules-don’t-apply-to-me-because-I’m- paying-$50,000-a-year slot that I was not made aware of.

Bobby: I’ve been sleeping like a baby. Linda, too. And our sex life-I won’t go into details, but let’s just say it’s an extreme turn-on to feel like strangers in your own home.

Linda: So each of us dragged a fifty-pound suitcase up five flights of stairs to Daniel’s room. A Sisyphean feat, given the fact that every couple of minutes we were pushed aside by the happy-go-lucky parents who got there early enough to use the elevator to haul their kids’ stuff up to their rooms, who said stupid things like “looks like you got your hands full” and “moving-in day-aren’t you glad to be rid of them!” And when we got to Daniel’s room-horror!-his roommate was already there and almost completely moved in. When the roommate’s mother saw us she didn’t even say hello; she was frantically unpacking and hoarding as much floor space as she could. Apparently the roommate had that syndrome where one leg is shorter than the other and had been given special dispensation to move in super-duper early-the 3-to-5 a.m. slot.

Me: William, just think of all the money we’re going to save now that the kids won’t be going to college so that we can avoid moving-in day.

Bobby: My only question is, why did we wait so long? We could have been this happy years ago. Our contractor told us that’s what all the people who get twin master suites say.

Linda: At least the roommate had the decency to seem embarrassed by the quantity of stuff he’d brought: a microwave, hot plate, fridge, a bike. We left Daniel’s suitcases in the hallway and told them we’d be back later.

Bobby: Pop over and I’ll give you a tour.

Linda: So we’re leaving and the roommate says, “Guess what? I have a sno-cone maker.” My heart sank. I’d bought Daniel a sno-cone maker, too. I read on some blog it was one of the top things you should bring to college to make you popular. Now they would have two sno-cone makers in one ten-by-ten room, which would be one sno-cone maker too many to make them popular. Instead people would be wondering what’s up with those tools in 507 with the two sno-cone makers? All those years of subtle social manipulation, making sure he got invited to the popular kids’ parties, making helpful suggestions like if you don’t feel comfortable “freaking” at the dance, just say it’s against your religion or that your parents forbid you to do it. That’s when I started to cry.

Me: What’s “freaking”?

Kate: Dry humping. Basically, simulating sex on the dance floor.

Bobby: I told her she should save the tears for later when all the parents said goodbye to their kids in the hallways-the one officially sanctioned location for farewells-but did she listen?

Linda: I cried then. I cried when we came back that evening and the roommate’s goddamn mother was still there organizing and rearranging knickknacks and I couldn’t in good conscience say what the fuck, lady to a mother whose kid’s left leg is three inches shorter than his right, and I cried once more in the hallway at the designated crying time.

Me: Isn’t it nice none of the children are here?

Linda (sobbing): And now I’m going to have to do it all over again in August with Nick. And then the kids are gone. We’ll officially be empty-nesters. I’m not sure I can bear it.

Bobby: I’ll bet there are services that will move your kid into college for you.

William: Great idea. Subcontract the job.

Nedra: No mother wants some stranger moving her kid into college, you bloody idiots.

Me: I’d love to hear more about the twin master suites. Do you have photos? Is this pink stuff gravlox?

Nedra: Lax. Lox is Jewish.

Me: How do you know?

Nedra: Hebfaq.com.

8:30: On the patio, eating dinner

Nedra: Believe it or not, there is such a thing as a good divorce.

Me: What makes a good divorce?

Nedra: You keep the house, I’ll keep the cabin in Tahoe. We’ll share the condo in Maui.

William: In other words, money.

Nedra: It helps.

Kate: And respect for one another. And wanting to do right by the kids. Not hiding assets.

William: In other words, trust.

Me (not looking at William): So tell us what it’s like, Linda-having two masters. How does it work?

Linda: We watch TV in his or my bedroom, we have our snuggle time, and it’s only when we’re ready to sleep that we each go to our suites.

Bobby: The suites are purely for sleep.

Linda: Sleep is so important.

Bobby: Lack of sleep leads to binge eating.

Linda: And memory loss.

Me: And repressed anger.

William: What about sex?

Linda: What do you mean, what about it?

Nedra: When do you have it?

Linda: When we normally have it.

Nedra: Which is when?

Bobby: Are you asking how often?

Nedra: I’ve always wondered how many times a week straight married couples have sex.

William: I imagine that has something to do with how long they’ve been married.

Nedra: That does not sound like an endorsement for marriage, William.

Me: What color did you paint the walls, Linda?

Nedra: A couple married for more than ten years-I’d guess once every two weeks.

Me: What about carpets? Can you believe shag is back in style?

Linda: Way more.