“Pick the long ones,” says Clemence. They almost sweep her shoulders. If Jillian’s meant to make an effort, she might as well go all in. “And I’m not getting hurt.”
“Not yet.” Jillian picks the other pair.
“Not everything turns out badly, you know,” Clemence tells her friend.
And Jillian says, “Iknow that. Your situation, however, seems specifically engineered to do so. Isn’t that the point?”
“Well, not right now,” says Clemence. “In the meantime, we’re both happy with the arrangement.”
“And what about when he wants more than that?”
“He won’t, see? That’s the thing. He doesn’t do relationships, all those unnecessary ties.”
“But you said the sex wasn’t even good. And if that’s all there is?”
“It was good!” Clemence protests. “Imean, it wasn’t that good. But I’ve had worse.”
“Not a ringing endorsement.”
“It isn’t about the sex, though.”
“Well, what’s it about, then? If he doesn’t want to have a relationship.”
“But Idon’t want a relationship, either,” says Clemence.
“Ifear,” says Jillian, applying one more coat of lipstick and standing up in front of her mirror, appearing like perfection incarnate, “that you are selling yourself short, my friend.”
“But I’m not selling anything,” Clemence protests. “Everything is about capitalism with you.”
“It’s a metaphor.”
“All this,” says Clemence, using her hand to sweep the room, to indicate, “it’s so much work. Like you said, you’ve got to make an effort. And that’s so hard. Idon’t want everything to be so hard. And with Toby it’seasy. Do you know how refreshing that is?”
“But the thing with effort, you know,” says Jillian, “is that you reap what you sow.”
“Idon’t want to sow,” says Clemence, flopping back onto the bed. “Idon’t even want to reap. The grasshopper and the ant—forget that. Life is not a parable.”
Jillian walks across the room and closes the door. Comes back and sits down on the bed beside Clemence. “Isaw him again. This week. Bob.” Bob. Dr. Bob. What a name to put your whole life on the line for.
She says, “Jillian, no!” What is the point of this? All the effort, the lipstick. Clemence giving up her Friday nights in order for this marriage to be saved. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him?”
“Well,” says Jillian, dragging the one word out long. “Ididn’t really enjoy it. And surely that’s some kind of progress?”
“Can’t you just delete his number from your phone? Like, cut him out of your life altogether?”
Jillian is shaking her head. “He says Ineed closure. We’re working through it.”
“So suddenly he’s a therapist again? Jillian, this guy doesn’t have your best interests in mind.”
Jillian shushes her. “I’m just saying Iunderstand what you’re going through. That not everything has to make sense from the outside.”
“What about Jeremy?” What about what she’d said before about feeling free to make bad decisions without the chance of hurting somebody in the process.
“He’s very patient.”
“He knows?”
“Well, not everything. But he knows there’s progress. That’s all he needs to know.”
