think about Karl, Teresa’s ex-husband, Joshua and Claire’s so-called father—a man they’d seen only once since their parents had divorced. When Bruce first met Teresa he said he was going to drive to Texas and find Karl and kill him on her behalf, because when they’d been married he’d broken her nose. He’d broken other bones too, at other times over the course of their marriage, but the nose Karl had tried to make up to her by buying her a new one, which was the nose she had now, the only nose that Bruce could imagine on her. Her nose had a name: Princess Anne. She’d picked it out herself from a stand-up display with several rows of noses that had names printed beneath them like paint samples. She’d almost chosen one named Audrey or another called Surfer Girl. She told Bruce about her nose and the other noses when they were first falling in love, and he’d said she possessed the most beautiful nose on the earth, and she’d burst into tears. She’d been working at the Rest-A-While Villa then, making sure that the residents took their pills, cleaning out bedpans, changing and washing sheets, whatever needed to be done. Bruce’s Aunt Jenny had lived there. He’d visit her every couple of weeks, bringing her bottles of Orange Crush and the black licorice she liked, sitting with her in the community room to watch TV or play cards.
The first time he saw Teresa she was mopping up a pool of tomato juice that had spilled from a rolling cart in the hallway. “Hello,” she said, and laughed lightly. The second time he saw her she was standing in the front door of the Rest-A-While Villa in the heat of summer holding a screwdriver, its handle, pale yellow, barely transparent, like honey gone hard. Later, he learned that she carried it with her wherever she went so she could open and close her car door by jamming it into the space where the handle had once been. “Hello,” she said for the second time. Her earrings were real feathers that fluttered up into her hair as she walked past. The third time he saw her they spent an unexpected hour in the Rest-A-While Villa parking lot together while he fixed the handle on her car door.
They fell in love then. Languidly, secretly, during the hours thatClaire and Joshua were in school. She hadn’t allowed him to meet them for months, and once they’d decided to live together—neither of them believed in marriage—they’d had a ceremony, a nonlegal wedding, which bound Bruce not only to Teresa but also to Claire and Joshua. The ceremony involved vows they’d written together and then the four of them each chose a lilac frond from the same bough and took turns letting it go in the Mississippi River to symbolize their bond as a family. Bruce Gunther to Teresa and Joshua and Claire Wood. That night Teresa had given Bruce a painting that she’d painted herself—
The Woods of Coltrap County
—three trees in the snow, one big, two smaller ones. It hung now on the wall at the foot of the bed, and he’d slept and woken to it every morning and night for the twelve years they’d been together.
He asked, “Do you want Karl to know? Should I call him when the time comes?”
“No,” she said, turning slightly toward him, but not enough to face him. “Not unless Josh and Claire want that. I don’t even know exactly where he lives anymore.”
He stroked her back with the tips of his fingers and then he remembered that she didn’t want to be touched and stopped, but left his hands near her on the bed. He felt a burning tightness in his center, down low, in rut and ache, wanting her, wanting to do everything to her, to push and pull and lick and hump and enter and suck and pinch and rub. He felt other ways at other times and he knew that she did too. Sometimes they’d had to almost will themselves to fuck, their bodies clacking together good-naturedly, as familiar and expected as water to the mouth. During those times, they got each other off expertly, lovingly, and
The first time he saw Teresa she was mopping up a pool of tomato juice that had spilled from a rolling cart in the hallway. “Hello,” she said, and laughed lightly. The second time he saw her she was standing in the front door of the Rest-A-While Villa in the heat of summer holding a screwdriver, its handle, pale yellow, barely transparent, like honey gone hard. Later, he learned that she carried it with her wherever she went so she could open and close her car door by jamming it into the space where the handle had once been. “Hello,” she said for the second time. Her earrings were real feathers that fluttered up into her hair as she walked past. The third time he saw her they spent an unexpected hour in the Rest-A-While Villa parking lot together while he fixed the handle on her car door.
They fell in love then. Languidly, secretly, during the hours thatClaire and Joshua were in school. She hadn’t allowed him to meet them for months, and once they’d decided to live together—neither of them believed in marriage—they’d had a ceremony, a nonlegal wedding, which bound Bruce not only to Teresa but also to Claire and Joshua. The ceremony involved vows they’d written together and then the four of them each chose a lilac frond from the same bough and took turns letting it go in the Mississippi River to symbolize their bond as a family. Bruce Gunther to Teresa and Joshua and Claire Wood. That night Teresa had given Bruce a painting that she’d painted herself—
The Woods of Coltrap County
—three trees in the snow, one big, two smaller ones. It hung now on the wall at the foot of the bed, and he’d slept and woken to it every morning and night for the twelve years they’d been together.
He asked, “Do you want Karl to know? Should I call him when the time comes?”
“No,” she said, turning slightly toward him, but not enough to face him. “Not unless Josh and Claire want that. I don’t even know exactly where he lives anymore.”
He stroked her back with the tips of his fingers and then he remembered that she didn’t want to be touched and stopped, but left his hands near her on the bed. He felt a burning tightness in his center, down low, in rut and ache, wanting her, wanting to do everything to her, to push and pull and lick and hump and enter and suck and pinch and rub. He felt other ways at other times and he knew that she did too. Sometimes they’d had to almost will themselves to fuck, their bodies clacking together good-naturedly, as familiar and expected as water to the mouth. During those times, they got each other off expertly, lovingly, and
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