He was dying, and she was dying for him.
When they were still young they each had plans, like all young lovers do. He would be a structural engineer and she would be a nurse, like her mother. Only, unlike her mother, she would not grow bitter and old and bent as if stuck in the same salary position throughout her career somehow meant she was in the same position physically. No, not her. She would remain tall, whip thin, and beautiful. They would travel the world, Carl building bridges and towering skyscrapers wherever there was water to be crossed or cities to tower in. And Marie would learn a different language everywhere she went, for there was never not a need for more nurses, and she would be more beautiful for it.
But then there was C.J.; Carl Junior. And then Clara. And then the twins, Karen and Ruth, whos birth Marie had always foretold with warning. "Twins run in the family, y'know. I told you. I tried to warn you, everytime." Carl, undettered, would marval at the two fuzzy shapes in the ultrasound, facing one another like two shrivelled kidneys beans in council. He would hover over Marie's bulging round belly and plant two kisses where he imagned bot heads to be. That was nearly a lifetime ago. Needless say, it kept them busy until C.J. left. Clara informed them that she intended to go to law school soon after. The twins simply said "We've found a place in New York." almost in unison. One morning, as if falling into a dream or waking up from one, the house was completely empty for the first time in 32 years.
Marie was roused one morning by the sound of the alarm clock ticking furiously, and absolutely nothing else. She waited in vain for the morning sounds of dresser drawers pening and closing in the other room, or the twins ' strange brand of argumentative harmony as they went through their shared closet. There were no succict but meaningful knocks on the bathroom door, nor hissing clattering old pipes as whoever was in the shower used up the last bit of hot water. The house was empty , and even as she wrapped herself in her robe and came down the stairs every ound she made resonated as if from within an empty thing. She found Carl at the kitchen table, the morning paper set on th table before him as usual. Only now his glasses sat just near his right hand, folded. As he sat down Marie could see a distant, pensive olook on his face. he misses them, she thought to herself. Even in the last few months when, one by one, they'd declared their will to leave this place he built for them, he would sit in the ktichen in the mornings with the paperand would toss out tidbits of tnews like chum in water. Occasionally he'd get a bite and engage one of his children in what might pass for a conversation while they hurriedly ate and rushed out the door. other times he would incite a frenzy and there'd be slamming doors. The thought of it made her smile, and then sigh.
Carl, still distant, looked at her shoulder, then at her forehead and her nose. He smiled wanly. "Morning, peach." he said. "You working tonight? You should get more sleep."
"Can't." Marie replied. "Can't sleep. Can't sit still. Too quiet. You feel it too, I can tell." Carl only smiled, deflecting the idea with a handsomeness that persisted even at his age. "So I suppose we ought to...I dunno. I guess we ought to do something with the day."
"Well, I guess we can..." And under the table Carl's hand searched her out, finding her thigh and masaging.
"Mm. Haven't done that in while. Oh, but...oh no. I'm sorry to tell you Carl, if you're hoping to fill up this house with any more pitter patter you're sadly out of luck. Its a few years too late for that, my friend."
"Actually." Carl said with a mischievious smile. His eyes went up in wonderment as he imagined the scenario. "I was thinking we could make love on the couch. We haven't done that in a long time. We could start with you bent over the and then--"
"Oh, the mouth on you! Have you been holding this in all the while, just waiting for your children to leave before you became one of those lecherous old men?"
"Well, it was just a thought."
"That's sweet dear, but lets be serious for a minute."
"Serious, huh?"
"Yes sweety, serious. You had all night in an empty house to try a move like that if you really wanted to."
"No, no, I just--Look, I thought it would be nice, y'know? Like old times."
"Old times for old timers?"
"Why not? We're only in our sixties and we...Alright. Look, just forget I said anything, alright?
Marie found his hand under the table and held it in hers. They squeezed each other and listened to each others breathing.
"Alright, Studly. So after you've ravaged me on the couch. What next?"
"Well, if we're being serious...I suppose I ought to go to the doctors."
"The doctors? That's not too encouraging on the whole ravaging me on the couch deal. What do you wanna go to the doctor's for?"
"Well." Carl said hesitantly. "When I woke up this morning I...well I stumbled int the bathroom and...I stumbled out and...stumbled down the stairs to find my glasses and...."
"Spit it out Carl."
"I can't see, Marie."
"W-what?"
"Everything's a blur. I can't see."
And after 34 years of being together, they'd finally run out of things to say to each other. Marie squeezed his hand. Carl squeezed hers back. The clock ticked louder than ever before.
When they were still young they each had plans, like all young lovers do. He would be a structural engineer and she would be a nurse, like her mother. Only, unlike her mother, she would not grow bitter and old and bent as if stuck in the same salary position throughout her career somehow meant she was in the same position physically. No, not her. She would remain tall, whip thin, and beautiful. They would travel the world, Carl building bridges and towering skyscrapers wherever there was water to be crossed or cities to tower in. And Marie would learn a different language everywhere she went, for there was never not a need for more nurses, and she would be more beautiful for it.
But then there was C.J.; Carl Junior. And then Clara. And then the twins, Karen and Ruth, whos birth Marie had always foretold with warning. "Twins run in the family, y'know. I told you. I tried to warn you, everytime." Carl, undettered, would marval at the two fuzzy shapes in the ultrasound, facing one another like two shrivelled kidneys beans in council. He would hover over Marie's bulging round belly and plant two kisses where he imagned bot heads to be. That was nearly a lifetime ago. Needless say, it kept them busy until C.J. left. Clara informed them that she intended to go to law school soon after. The twins simply said "We've found a place in New York." almost in unison. One morning, as if falling into a dream or waking up from one, the house was completely empty for the first time in 32 years.
Marie was roused one morning by the sound of the alarm clock ticking furiously, and absolutely nothing else. She waited in vain for the morning sounds of dresser drawers pening and closing in the other room, or the twins ' strange brand of argumentative harmony as they went through their shared closet. There were no succict but meaningful knocks on the bathroom door, nor hissing clattering old pipes as whoever was in the shower used up the last bit of hot water. The house was empty , and even as she wrapped herself in her robe and came down the stairs every ound she made resonated as if from within an empty thing. She found Carl at the kitchen table, the morning paper set on th table before him as usual. Only now his glasses sat just near his right hand, folded. As he sat down Marie could see a distant, pensive olook on his face. he misses them, she thought to herself. Even in the last few months when, one by one, they'd declared their will to leave this place he built for them, he would sit in the ktichen in the mornings with the paperand would toss out tidbits of tnews like chum in water. Occasionally he'd get a bite and engage one of his children in what might pass for a conversation while they hurriedly ate and rushed out the door. other times he would incite a frenzy and there'd be slamming doors. The thought of it made her smile, and then sigh.
Carl, still distant, looked at her shoulder, then at her forehead and her nose. He smiled wanly. "Morning, peach." he said. "You working tonight? You should get more sleep."
"Can't." Marie replied. "Can't sleep. Can't sit still. Too quiet. You feel it too, I can tell." Carl only smiled, deflecting the idea with a handsomeness that persisted even at his age. "So I suppose we ought to...I dunno. I guess we ought to do something with the day."
"Well, I guess we can..." And under the table Carl's hand searched her out, finding her thigh and masaging.
"Mm. Haven't done that in while. Oh, but...oh no. I'm sorry to tell you Carl, if you're hoping to fill up this house with any more pitter patter you're sadly out of luck. Its a few years too late for that, my friend."
"Actually." Carl said with a mischievious smile. His eyes went up in wonderment as he imagined the scenario. "I was thinking we could make love on the couch. We haven't done that in a long time. We could start with you bent over the and then--"
"Oh, the mouth on you! Have you been holding this in all the while, just waiting for your children to leave before you became one of those lecherous old men?"
"Well, it was just a thought."
"That's sweet dear, but lets be serious for a minute."
"Serious, huh?"
"Yes sweety, serious. You had all night in an empty house to try a move like that if you really wanted to."
"No, no, I just--Look, I thought it would be nice, y'know? Like old times."
"Old times for old timers?"
"Why not? We're only in our sixties and we...Alright. Look, just forget I said anything, alright?
Marie found his hand under the table and held it in hers. They squeezed each other and listened to each others breathing.
"Alright, Studly. So after you've ravaged me on the couch. What next?"
"Well, if we're being serious...I suppose I ought to go to the doctors."
"The doctors? That's not too encouraging on the whole ravaging me on the couch deal. What do you wanna go to the doctor's for?"
"Well." Carl said hesitantly. "When I woke up this morning I...well I stumbled int the bathroom and...I stumbled out and...stumbled down the stairs to find my glasses and...."
"Spit it out Carl."
"I can't see, Marie."
"W-what?"
"Everything's a blur. I can't see."
And after 34 years of being together, they'd finally run out of things to say to each other. Marie squeezed his hand. Carl squeezed hers back. The clock ticked louder than ever before.
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