choosing the patterned fabric for the couches, which he thought was fussy. She’d loved the mahogany end tables because they were antique, though he was never drawn to the colonial vibe. The lamps were crystal, also not his taste, and he realized there was no trace of him in the living room. Not that he’d minded, he’d gone shopping with her and wanted to make her happy. That had been his marriage, trying to make her happy and not succeeding.
Larry went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and got himself a can of beer. He took a slug, and it tasted terrific, reminding him of days up at the lake, early on with Allie. They would picnic and make out. He loved it, and so did she. Back then, she had been his best friend, but no longer. He was better friends with Kwame, a partner of his. They’d have late-night talks at a conference table cluttered with trial exhibits and empty Styrofoam cups. Kwame had just gotten divorced and had never been happier, which was why Larry had blurted it out today to Allie, on the phone. He had to wise up. Life was too short.
Larry took another slug of beer. Now they wouldn’t have a baby. They’d been trying for a year, with no luck, and he knew that had made everything harder for her. She was the one who had to take her temperature and do all that happy horseshit, and the doctor thought she was too stressed to get pregnant. They’d even gotten her colitis in remission. He hoped a baby would make them stronger as a couple, and Allie would have been a great mother. He’d seen her with his nieces and nephews. She remembered their birthdays, favorite foods, and the names of their stupid stuffed animals.
He gulped his beer. Allie was the same way with him. She kept track of his blood pressure, triglycerides, and all that. She accepted him without judgment or demand. She loved him the way he was, even the way he used to be, when he was fat. She took care of him without being loving to him all the time, if that made sense, and it showed him that she was a warm, good person, inside. That she wasn’t cold, just closed, sometimes. That was why he’d fallen in love with her.
Larry remembered the day he’d decided to marry her. It wasn’t a romantic moment, or a magical night or vacation sex. It was something she had done that touched him so deeply, something important to him. It had happened when he was in law school, and his mother had called the apartment from Pennsylvania Hospital because she’d fallen and broken her collarbone, shopping in Philly. Allie had taken the call, but she hadn’t been able to find Larry or his father. So she’d gone to the hospital herself, stayed with Larry’s mother in the ER, and taken her back to her apartment in Center City. Larry remembered going to Allie’s after class and hearing the two of them laughing in the bathroom, behind a closed door. He couldn’t imagine why his mother was in the bathroom at his girlfriend’s place.
He’d knocked on the door, mystified. Allie? Mom? What’s going on?
Don’t come in! his mother had called back, giggling.
Right! Allie had chimed in. Girls only!
What are you doing? Larry had asked.
I’m giving your mom a bath, Allie had called back. Before her painkillers wear off.
Why? Larry had asked, surprised.
His mother shot back, Because I wanted one after that dirty hospital, why do you think?
Larry swallowed hard at the memory, then pushed it away. After that, his mother always said, Allie’s a keeper. It was the only time his mother had been wrong. He wasn’t keeping the keeper. He didn’t relish explaining it to his family, either. All he really wanted was a family of his own, and he didn’t want to think about the family he could have started with Allie.
He left the kitchen and trudged to the stairway with his beer, ascending on autopilot. He reached the second floor and walked down the hallway with a heavy tread. He couldn’t believe it was really the end. How could he have been in such denial? He was a good lawyer, trained to examine the facts, highlight the relevant ones, then spin them into a narrative. How had he ignored so many relevant facts in his own life?
He went to his closet, took his suits on their hangers, and laid