Wedded Bliss
Larry wants me to stay here on the farm with him. Pay the bills, take care of the house, put food up for the winter, garden. Chris is leaving--going back to Alaska. Separating. Her seams fall apart right in front of me. I remind her how homesick she really is--and she bolts. Becomes physically ill the day after I arrive. Nausea, she says. She keeps smoking cigar after cigar. That would nauseate me too. She is afraid. Leaving Larry, unsure why it fell apart. Leaving Arkansas, unable to notice how she loves it here. She wants to be alone more than anything, alone with her neurosis and ghosts. She wants to work too--electrician, computer engineer--there's no work for her here. She's lonely and homesick for a kind of culture she can't find. I miss her. Know thyself, Chris, keep it together. I know you will.
And then there's Larry, asking me to stay on the farm, keep it up, become a no-commitment wife, replace Chris--or in a way a daughter, the child he never could have, the progeny to care for Dad in old age. He cries when no one is looking. Why did he ask me to not tell Chris?
And then there's Larry, asking me to stay on the farm, keep it up, become a no-commitment wife, replace Chris--or in a way a daughter, the child he never could have, the progeny to care for Dad in old age. He cries when no one is looking. Why did he ask me to not tell Chris?