—You old sick fuck.
—You know what they do?
I knew. In the hospital once a woman had tried to induce labor with blue cohosh. She’d been ten days past her due date and could no longer tolerate the heartburn. But she was allergic to cohosh. She died during the emergency cesarean. I spent most of the night outside the nursery watching her baby, who had a full head of rich black hair.
—That night I made Lenore her tea, Lenny continued, only it was steeped in triple the recommended dosage of both.
—She had no idea.
—No, I believe she had some idea.
—And she bled.
—She bled so much I was afraid she would die. It started in the middle of the night. The coyotes began to circle and howl, and then the contractions began, and after an hour of screaming and pain, it came out of her. A seahorse shape, blue and red. She held it to her breast, gently, and kissed its alien skull. Even in my fear and guilt, I felt the rage. Another man’s seed at Lenore’s breast. Within seconds the thing died.
I nodded. I’d made my decision. But I wouldn’t give him the slightest of hints. I smiled. I patted the wrist that wasn’t wearing the watch.
—There, I said. Do you feel better now?
He nodded. Hideously, he was grateful.
—Thank you, Joan.
—Go home. Take a nap. Somewhere in heaven, Lenore is smiling.
I took his arm roughly, pushed him in the direction of his tiny home, then turned and opened my door.
Of course he made an attempt to follow me, so I quickly shut the door in his face and returned inside, rageful, only to find Eleanor wearing my white slip dress. It was straining at her chest. I couldn’t believe it.
—Eleanor, what the fuck.
—What? she asked. She was existentially frightened of me.
—That’s my special dress, I said.
—Oh. I didn’t know. Sorry.
—It’s my mother’s. Please take it off.
She pulled it off. Underneath she wore her cheap underwear and bra.
—I’m really sorry.
I boiled water for tea and she walked to the area on the floor where she kept her things. She dressed in her own clothes and then, with a smile on her face, something I’d never seen, told me that she felt okay that day, for the first time since her brother’s passing.
I told her how happy I was to hear that, and truly, I was.
—And I’m grateful to you for getting me the job and for letting me stay here.
I wanted to say that I’d never agreed, that she’d come and never left. Instead I nodded kindly.
—And. I forgive you.
Involuntarily, tears filled my eyes.
—Yeah. And I wanted to tell you. I feel good having you in my life. I know that sounds weird.
—No, I get it.
—Also, I’m really excited about the baby. It’s getting closer and maybe that’s why. I don’t want to be creepy or whatever. But I love him already.
I nearly spilled the hot water on my legs. I turned from her and crushed three Xanax between my fingers and dropped them into her cup.
—Here. I made some tea.
She never refused anything I made her. I thought of all the times I’d cooked for her father, his fawning gratitude. The careful way that he chewed.
She smiled as she took it from me and thirty minutes later she was passed out on the couch. I sprayed down the white slip with Big Sky’s cologne to mask Eleanor’s sweat and walked to River’s door.
FOR MANY YEARS MY RAGE was dormant. I’d lived to survive. I could call up the hideous event, but in a far-off way. I could have dictated only the facts. I could not have called up each moment of horror. Back then not a second went by that I didn’t feel like something was eating my heart. But in the Canyon the pain turned to rage and the rage was growing around me the way the sunbaked bougainvillea grew around the old swingers’ mansion.
I’d never fucked a man to get back at a woman. I’d flirted with the boyfriend of a friend to check my power, though only after the friend had hurt me, had flaunted some faux happiness in my face to make herself feel better. This was new. Alice had not theoretically done anything to hurt me. She’d removed herself from my life but not out of spite. She simply didn’t want to be near me. That’s the most awful thing someone you love can do.
I knocked on River’s door. He opened it, shirtless. I told him my air-conditioning had broken and that I couldn’t stand the heat. I asked if he had anything cold in his fridge to drink. I had nothing in mine.
—Yeah, of course, come in, he said.
His bed was unmade and Kurt was lying on top of it.
—Is beer okay?
I nodded and he pushed lime halves into two bottles of Corona with his calloused thumb. He said, Cheers, we clinked the glass, and his thick pink lips covered the whole mouth of the bottle.
—So that girl, is she like a friend?
—She’s the little sister of my good friend back in New York. Their dad just died and she came out here to get away.
—That’s why I came out here, too.
—Is your mom still in Nebraska?
—Yeah, but she’s good. She’s seeing this dude. He’s a good guy. I’m happy for her.
—That’s good.
—Yeah, it’s pretty great.
—The last time I was in here, I said, sitting down on his bed and stroking the dog’s head.
He laughed nervously. The thing with Alice was apparently becoming serious. I understood that he felt guilty, and that if I referenced our intimacy, he would pull away.
—The last time I
