Lipstick Jungle

“Don’t you know how they gossip here?” Shane asked accusingly. “Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You saw Cherry and Nina—they’ll talk to Marc—it’ll be all over the St. Mary-Alice School tomorrow. Don’t you think it’s hard enough for Magda as it is? Does she need all the other kids talking about how crazy her mother is . . . ?”

“But Shane,” Wendy said, staring at him in horror. “I haven’t done anything. I would never do anything to hurt our little girl . . .”

“No. All you did was just turn up here, unexpectedly. I mean, it was hard enough trying to explain that.”

“What’s to explain? I’m her mother . . .”

“Are you?”

“You shit.” Wendy paused, then decided to let this go for the moment. It was too terrible to get into. “How were you planning on paying for that pony without me, Shane?” she asked.

“Credit card.”

“It’s still my money,” she said, and hated herself for pointing this out.

“Fine,” Shane said. “Break your daughter’s heart. That’ll really ingratiate you with your children.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t . . .”

“Do whatever you want. I’ve tried my best. I’m done,” he said, throwing up his hands helplessly. He began walking into the dim recesses of the stable, his loafers echoing in the cavernous space.

Wendy hesitated and then hurried after him. At least this barn appeared to be empty, free of those terrifying beasts that might jump out and trample you. “Shane!” she hissed. “Get back here.”

Shane turned.

She had to make him tell her, she thought. She could not let him get away with this. “I’m not going to buy that pony until we talk about what’s going on.”

Shane’s mouth curved up in disgust. “Fine,” he said, full of angry bravado. He stepped into an empty stall. Wendy hesitated. The floor was covered with bright yellow straw. Maybe they could just make love and then everything would be back to normal. It had worked so many times before. He was standing in the middle of the stall, with his arms crossed over his chest defensively. She took a step toward him, feeling the rough-cut edges of the straw poking at her ankles. He was being so silly, really. This whole thing was ridiculous. If he would drop it, she would forgive him. She was used to forgiving him. It came easily after twelve years of practice, like learning to say you were sorry. Apology and forgiveness, they were a lot easier than people thought.

And having managed to get her mind into a more amenable state, she decided to take a chance. In the nonthreatening baby voice she used with him, she said playfully, “Let’s have sex.”

Instead of soothing him, however, these gentle words seemed to unleash the brute inside him. He lunged toward her as if he were going to hit her, but at the last minute, he swerved to the side and ran to the wall, banging his hand against the wooden planks. “You still don’t get it, do you?” he shouted. And then, perhaps embarrassed at this unusual display of manliness, he put his hands over his face. His body began to shake like he was sobbing, but no sound came out. She took a few steps toward him and touched his shoulder. “Shane?” she asked. And then more insistently: “Shane . . . are you crying?”

“No.” The sound was muffled from under his hands. She put her hands over his and tried to pull them away.

The expression on his face terrified her. His eyes were reddened slits—full of hate, she thought, for her or himself, or maybe both. “It’s no good,” he said.

It’s over, she thought. It’s over . . . “What’s no good?” she asked anyway.

“Us,” he said. He took a deep breath and exhaled through his open mouth. “I don’t love you, Wendy,” he said. “And I don’t think I ever have.”

Arggghhhh. She took a step backward. Arggggggh. Was she the one making that noise, or was she just thinking it? Her whole life seemed to be falling away from her. She was standing at the edge of a cliff. Arggggh. How could this be?

He hadn’t really said that, had he?

“You never gave me the chance to decide for myself,” he said. “You were always so there—so in there from the beginning. I couldn’t get rid of you. You never took no for an answer. At first I thought, this girl has to be crazy. I’d sleep with other girls, and you knew it, and you never said anything about it. And then I started thinking, maybe you really were in love with me. I could do what I wanted and you’d always be there to take care of me. I’m not saying I didn’t like you. We had a great time together. But I was never in love with you. The way I was in love with some of those other girls . . .”

“Other girls . . . ?”

“Not when we were married,” Shane said defensively. “I didn’t cheat. I’m talking about before we were married.”

“Then why did you marry me?” she demanded.

“Why do you want to hear this?” he asked. “Do you think I like telling you this stuff? Why don’t you walk away? You’re always fucking torturing yourself with me. Do you think it makes me respect you?”

“You owe me a fucking explanation!” she screamed.

He hit the wall again with the palm of his hand.