“Sometimes I wonder if that’s why I never married Stacy, because I knew I was capable of cheating—not just cheating, but developing feelings—and it didn’t seem fair.”
Big Swiss jiggled the keys in her pocket. Greta realized they were standing next to Big Swiss’s car in the parking area. Greta had been so caught up in her story, she had no memory of crossing the meadow.
“How long have we been standing here?” Greta asked.
“Twenty-three minutes,” Big Swiss said.
“Jesus,” Greta said. “I’m sorry. You must be dying to get home.”
“I’m fine,” Big Swiss said.
“How’s your marriage?”
Big Swiss smiled and said nothing.
“I talked your face off,” Greta said. “You feel stifled, right, like there’s a plastic bag over your head.”
“I feel the opposite of stifled,” Big Swiss said.
While Greta thought of antonyms—“loose,” “released,” “persuaded”—Big Swiss kissed Greta’s cheek. Then she kissed Greta’s other cheek. Then the first cheek again. A Swiss goodbye, Greta assumed, except it happened in slow motion. Greta leaned forward and kissed Big Swiss’s barely parted lips. Big Swiss smiled. Kissing Big Swiss’s teeth was jarring and humiliating, like kissing a bathroom sink. But maybe that was too unkind. It was like kissing a baptismal font full of holy water.
9
OM:?Well, hello. Long time no see. Listen, I had to charge you for last week’s session because you canceled last-minute, and I need a full day’s notice. Sorry about that.
FEW:?It was my fault. I got caught up at the dog park.
“Caught up,” Greta said. “Right.”
OM:?Can you state your initials for the transcriber, please.
FEW:?FEW.
OM:?I haven’t seen you since before Keith got out of prison, correct?
FEW:?Yes.
OM:?How are you feeling?
FEW:?[PAUSE] This may sound slightly paranoid, but I’m being followed.
“What?” Greta said.
OM:?Where?
FEW:?Here, there, wherever I go.
OM:?He’s here? Hold on [OVERLAPPING] I can’t see—wait, move the [OVERLAPPING] no, other way—him? In the ascot? That’s Timmy, honey, he’s harmless—
FEW:?Not him. Him. The guy in the big black [OVERLAPPING]
OM:?—understand how he can afford [OVERLAPPING] really kind of brazen—
FEW:?—[OVERLAPPING] over the bridge—
“Fuck,” Greta said. “One at a time, please.”
FEW:?I think he’s just monitoring my routine.
OM:?It’s called stalking. Have you called the police?
FEW:?No.
OM:?Does he ever follow you on foot?
FEW:?No, but sometimes a woman does. An older woman with a harsh face. She follows me at the dog park.
“I hope to hell you don’t mean me,” Greta said.
OM:?You’re positive about this?
FEW:?She waits for me in the parking area and then trails me, sometimes for thirty or forty minutes, glaring at me the whole time.
OM:?Does she have a dog?
FEW:?Yeah.
OM:?Do you feel unsafe? I mean, does she seem dangerous?
FEW:?Her presence is slightly menacing, yes, but I’m never alone. I meet a friend and we walk together.
“Phew,” Greta said.
OM:?Okay, good.
FEW:?It’s been quite a distraction, to be honest. She talks incessantly.
OM:?Does the woman look familiar?
FEW:?I’ve never seen her before.
OM:?Has your friend?
FEW:?I haven’t mentioned any of this to her.
OM:?Why?
FEW:? We just met, and it’s not a story I’m attached to. I don’t consider it part of my identity.
OM:?What are you going to do about the stalking?
FEW:?Be more vigilant, I guess. I should start keeping track of dates and times. I’m not very good at describing people’s faces, but I always remember clothing. The woman wears a felted Nordic wool sweater, gray sweats with a drawstring, tall green rain boots one size too big. The shade of green is called Jasper, and they’re made by a French company that sells gardening equipment.
Greta paused the audio and tried to recall a woman fitting this description, but she only remembered dogs. Big Swiss didn’t like to linger in the meadow, preferring to walk in the woods, and so the woman would’ve been following them on the trail. A Rhodesian ridgeback had passed them a few times, but Greta had barely noticed its owner, because she’d been too busy talking. Incessantly.
OM:?Is your husband concerned?
FEW:?Mildly. He thinks I’m imagining things.
OM:?Is that a tendency of yours?
FEW:?Lately it is. I don’t feel like myself. Or maybe I feel more like myself. I haven’t been this hyper since high school. It doesn’t make sense, but even my blood feels different, like it’s increased in volume.
OM:?You do seem more… energetic than usual.
“It’s called lust,” Greta said.
FEW:?I’m also more absentminded. The other night, when I got home from work, I stood in the yard and stared at the bushes like a crazy person. Luke was inside the house, watching me, and he tapped the window to get my attention. I was so out of it, I didn’t even recognize him. I thought a stranger had broken into the house. He said I’d been standing there for twenty minutes. That night I dreamed there were eight Lukes in the house, and I didn’t know which one was real. I mean, they were all real, and interacting with me, but I had to figure out which one was authentic, which one was… him.
OM:?Did you figure it out?
FEW:?No.
OM:?Are you getting enough sleep?
FEW:?I don’t know. I daydream most of the day, even at work, and I never remember driving anywhere, unless I’m being followed, and then I’m hyperaware, but of course I never think to look at the license plate.
OM:?What are you daydreaming about—revenge?
FEW:?Against whom?
OM:?Keith!
FEW:?He spent eight years behind bars. He did his time.
OM:?For all you know, he thrived in prison. Maybe he got to wear shorts again and make furniture.
FEW:?You have a good memory.
OM:?I glanced at that transcript as I was printing it out for you. Do you still want it?
FEW:?Yes, please. Thank you. Anyway, I don’t feel animosity toward Keith. My daydreams are about—well, I’d forgotten about this, but I remembered—what do you call it? A sexual story. From my youth.
[PAUSE 01:20]
“Hello?” Greta said.
OM:?Well? Are you going to tell me what it is?
FEW:?It’s not overtly sexual. I mean, I’ve never thought about it during sex. And I don’t think about it while I masturbate, which I’m doing a lot now—
Greta stopped typing and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants.
FEW:?But it helped me learn English. It also feels connected to my sexuality because I was a teenager at the time and attracted to one of the characters. Anyway, my dog park friend talks a lot, like I said, and I’ve been listening closely, in a highly focused way, just as I did back—
OM:?But what’s the story?
FEW:?It’s from Law and Order: SVU.
“Wow,” Greta said. “Bummer.”
FEW:?Have you watched it?
OM:?Uh, once or twice—it’s been on for thirty-seven years.