“Janet liked teen-agers, partly because most people didn’t. Why was it a bad thing to have an attitude?” A new short story by csestanovich.
“And don’t act like I’ve injured you.”Of course it had occurred to her. But, when Janet imagined comforting Sasha, she pictured her as a child. Warm cheeks, skinned knees, wounded eyes. Was comfort even what she wanted? Janet had heard certain parents refer to their. This made no sense. Sasha was simply an adult. She was tall and salaried, and her eyes, less green than they used to be, were often impassive. She had a husband who knew languages written in numbers.
She slept in a small room off the kitchen. With the couch pulled out, the door couldn’t close. That night, she woke up in the dark and turned to check the clock. For the first time in months, she had slept past 4. The sun was about to come up and Sasha was moving around the apartment, the lights still off. Janet watched her through the doorway: pouring coffee, checking her phone, smoothing her already smooth skirt, checking her phone again. It glowed in her hand. Her neck was always bent.
The second woman, who wore spandex leggings and a puffy coat, nodded sympathetically. Luckily, she was her own boss now. When it was her turn, she reported that her husband’s treatment had been a success but their sex life hadn’t yet returned.Ever since they’d married, the woman continued, she had in some way been waiting for this: the moment when the passion fell away. Old people and advice columnists had assured her that this was normal.
Danny took her an omelette, but she didn’t eat it. At noon, Janet knocked on her door. “Come in,” Sasha said politely. Janet sat on the edge of the mattress. There were two phones on the bedside table, and Sasha picked up one of them. She tapped a passcode on its surface, swiped, tapped again.She sounded bitter, but the bitterness was reassuring; it was better than politeness. Sasha buried the phone under her blanket, where she couldn’t see it.
“Did you sleep O.K.?” she said to Janet, her voice full of sudden solicitude. It was the voice of a good host, a dependable employee, a dutiful daughter.Danny had made his half of the bed. Janet could have stretched out there, could have rested her head where his had been.
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