now and then Brad would tear up at an old movie. He would try to hide it, but Mona always knew. He’d pretend to scratch his head when he was really wiping his eye. Like when John Wayne looked at his gold watch in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. Got him every time.
And she couldn’t resist holding him when he did. She would tear up and grab him and hug him, even though he told her not to. He was embarrassed and tried to cover up. Usually she had the waterworks.
Now she was the desert as Brad’s eyes misted ever so slightly.
“Do you mean . . .” he said, then started again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean apart for a while. I don’t want to have a repeat of last night.”
Brad waited a long time before responding, and Mona knew he’d picked up that there was more to her words than she’d let on.
“You don’t actually think,” he said, “our marriage is in trouble?”
Can ’ t you see it? Where have you been?
“I’m not saying anything,” Mona answered, “except I think we need some time apart.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not a good idea at all.”
“I think it is a good idea.”
“So that settles it?”
“Yes.”
Brad normally sat during upsetting discussions. It was Mona’s observation that this was his way of anchoring himself to something. He did not like emotional upheaval. And his chair in the family room, a brown recliner,was his favorite. Mona, who was standing with arms folded, expected he would remain there as the discussion drew to a close.
But he did not. And Mona knew that meant trouble.
SEVEN
1.
Lindy went over to check on Mr. Klinger. He was in his favorite soft chair, circa 1958, watching a sitcom.
“Ah, Lindy! Come and watch how bad this is.”
She looked at a couple of actors pretending to be flummoxed.
“Not funny,” Klinger said, waving his arms. “Now Sid Caesar, he was funny. Funny this is not.”
“Why don’t you turn it off,Mr. Klinger? Might be better for your blood pressure.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“You with that crazy kid.”
Lindy sighed and sat on his modern sofa, circa 1965.“You’ve been watching the news.”
Klinger wiggled his bushy white eyebrows. “I don’t want you should get in too deep.”
“Impossible in a murder case.”
“Murder! That was a massacre. Kid like that.” Klinger shook his head sadly as canned laughter filled the room.“Why, Lindy? Why did he do that terrible thing?”
“I can’t really talk about it yet, Mr. Klinger.”
“God told him to do it, is what he says?”
That much was public information. Lindy nodded.
“Ah, God maybe isn’t dead,” Klinger murmured, “but he’s out getting a second opinion.”
“Do you believe in God, Mr. Klinger?” Suddenly, she wanted to know very much what he thought. Maybe because of his age. Maybe eighty-some years on the planet had filled him with burnished insight.
Klinger turned thoughtful. A burst of laughter and applause came from the sitcom. He flicked it off with the remote.
“My father was a rabbi, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He used to say God created the world in six days. On the seventh day, he rested. On the eighth day, he started getting complaints. And it hasn’t stopped since. I got complaints too, Lindy. There’s so much pain in this world.”
He paused, looked at the floor.
“But then I think, we laugh. A God who can make laughter, he can’t be all bad. So why don’t we laugh all the time? This is the question. You know the story of Job?”
“A little. God took everything away from him.”
“Ah, you got one little detail wrong. It was Satan who took everything. God just let him do it.”
“Doesn’t that amount to the same thing?”
“Only to a smarty-pants lawyer! I had a dream a long time ago. Satan was the producer of a TV show. That’s very close to the truth, by the way. And he wanted me to tell some jokes he wrote. But the jokes weren’t funny. I said to him, ‘You’re not a
And she couldn’t resist holding him when he did. She would tear up and grab him and hug him, even though he told her not to. He was embarrassed and tried to cover up. Usually she had the waterworks.
Now she was the desert as Brad’s eyes misted ever so slightly.
“Do you mean . . .” he said, then started again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean apart for a while. I don’t want to have a repeat of last night.”
Brad waited a long time before responding, and Mona knew he’d picked up that there was more to her words than she’d let on.
“You don’t actually think,” he said, “our marriage is in trouble?”
Can ’ t you see it? Where have you been?
“I’m not saying anything,” Mona answered, “except I think we need some time apart.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not a good idea at all.”
“I think it is a good idea.”
“So that settles it?”
“Yes.”
Brad normally sat during upsetting discussions. It was Mona’s observation that this was his way of anchoring himself to something. He did not like emotional upheaval. And his chair in the family room, a brown recliner,was his favorite. Mona, who was standing with arms folded, expected he would remain there as the discussion drew to a close.
But he did not. And Mona knew that meant trouble.
SEVEN
1.
Lindy went over to check on Mr. Klinger. He was in his favorite soft chair, circa 1958, watching a sitcom.
“Ah, Lindy! Come and watch how bad this is.”
She looked at a couple of actors pretending to be flummoxed.
“Not funny,” Klinger said, waving his arms. “Now Sid Caesar, he was funny. Funny this is not.”
“Why don’t you turn it off,Mr. Klinger? Might be better for your blood pressure.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“You with that crazy kid.”
Lindy sighed and sat on his modern sofa, circa 1965.“You’ve been watching the news.”
Klinger wiggled his bushy white eyebrows. “I don’t want you should get in too deep.”
“Impossible in a murder case.”
“Murder! That was a massacre. Kid like that.” Klinger shook his head sadly as canned laughter filled the room.“Why, Lindy? Why did he do that terrible thing?”
“I can’t really talk about it yet, Mr. Klinger.”
“God told him to do it, is what he says?”
That much was public information. Lindy nodded.
“Ah, God maybe isn’t dead,” Klinger murmured, “but he’s out getting a second opinion.”
“Do you believe in God, Mr. Klinger?” Suddenly, she wanted to know very much what he thought. Maybe because of his age. Maybe eighty-some years on the planet had filled him with burnished insight.
Klinger turned thoughtful. A burst of laughter and applause came from the sitcom. He flicked it off with the remote.
“My father was a rabbi, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He used to say God created the world in six days. On the seventh day, he rested. On the eighth day, he started getting complaints. And it hasn’t stopped since. I got complaints too, Lindy. There’s so much pain in this world.”
He paused, looked at the floor.
“But then I think, we laugh. A God who can make laughter, he can’t be all bad. So why don’t we laugh all the time? This is the question. You know the story of Job?”
“A little. God took everything away from him.”
“Ah, you got one little detail wrong. It was Satan who took everything. God just let him do it.”
“Doesn’t that amount to the same thing?”
“Only to a smarty-pants lawyer! I had a dream a long time ago. Satan was the producer of a TV show. That’s very close to the truth, by the way. And he wanted me to tell some jokes he wrote. But the jokes weren’t funny. I said to him, ‘You’re not a
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