Further Joy

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Book: Read Further Joy for Free Online
Authors: John Brandon
anyone.” He waited a beat. When no one spoke up his shoulders went slack and his head slumped forward onto his chest. He started fishing around in his pants pocket for something. Rita had opened a drawer and pulled out a little accordion folder where she kept her coupons organized, and was flipping through it with a fingernail.
    â€œI’ll do it,” Kim said. She pushed the newspaper into a pile and pushed it away from her. “I’ll be the subject.”
    The kitchen went silent again. Kim could feel the skewering looks of the women in the room. At this point she was enjoying them. She’d broken the noninterference code, compromised the unified front.
    The look Rita rested on Kim was one of tart curiosity. Kim didn’t look away from it. Rita still had her fingers in her coupon book. She cleared her throat, and quickly enough she was smiling again. There was something brave in her smile nowadays.
    â€œAll right then,” she said. “I guess that’s settled.” She pulled what she needed out of the coupon book and placed it back in the drawer, which she closed very softly. Then she reached for her purse and gave the contents a shake. “Franklin, it looks like you’re going to slide by again.” She removed her wallet from her purse and found some cash. “Take this,” she said to him. “If Kim’s giving up her day for you, you can at least buy her lunch.”
    â€œThat’s not necessary,” Kim said, but Franklin was already accepting the bills and stuffing them into one of his pockets.
    The rest of the women were gathering up their phones and sunglasses. “We could try Barbette for lunch,” one of them offered uncertainly. “They’re supposed to have really good soups.” Franklin smirked at Kim and returned to his lemonade, sniffing it and adding more sugar.
    â€œIsn’t Gauguin the one that molested all those island girls?” Rita asked.
    â€œThat’s what they say,” said Kim.
    â€œIn Tahiti or whatever. That’s him, right? He was always having his way with the natives.”
    â€œThere was so much molesting going on in those days,” said Kim. “Hardly seems fair to keep bringing it up.”
    She excused herself and went upstairs, her blood quickening with escape. She couldn’t be around Rita’s new friends another minute. She reached the landing without a backward glance and strode down the hallway. The second floor of the house was a whole different kingdom. It smelled different up here, like brand-new furniture, like bamboo.
    In the shower she rubbed herself up with gel, breathing the steam. She soaped her thighs, her shoulders, massaged the back of her neck. Kim still liked her body. Her lips were plump and her legs were firm and shapely. Her skin was soft enough. A stranger would never have guessed that she’d used up more than half of her thirties.
    She stayed in the shower long after she’d rinsed off, enjoying the warmth, and then she stepped out onto a plush teal rug, water streaming off her. The mirror and fixtures were fogged. She wrapped a towel around herself and wandered into the closet connected to the guest bathroom, dripping on the carpet among a hundred dresses, many with their tags still on. Thiswas Rita’s runoff area, for the clothes that wouldn’t fit in her primary closet. Kim thought of her own cramped bedroom closet back in Galesburg, her bulky coats and worn sundresses. She couldn’t have fit another hanger in there, yet she didn’t own one article of clothing she still liked.
    Staying in Galesburg had never been the plan, of course, and she thought about this often now—just how she’d wound up where she was. When she’d graduated, the part-time position she’d taken as a senior in college had been offered to her full time. She could still remember how grateful she’d been. She’d wanted money, not more loans.

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