Coe Review

touched his wife. He touched her all over, the curls in her hair, her hands
and her feet, warm spots inside her thigh, her belly and her breasts. He made
love with Sharon as always, once each week, but the heat that ran through
him went straight to Norma.
He sat to the side, his legs out beyond the table instead of beneath it, as
if waiting for a signal to stand. They ate without speaking, nothing but the
sounds of chewing and of the oven's heat ticking and settling. Nine minutes,
Sharon timed, from seven-twelve to seven-twenty-one. The meal was like a
race. All of nine minutes from the time he sat down until the time his plate
was empty, four courses including the salad.
"You're distant, Eugene," Sharon said. "You've gone away without me.
Don't you see I'm still here? You know, I might like to come, too. I feel lonely
left behind."
"Distant?"
"Yes, distant. You're never here anymore. I'm asking you where you
go."
"You're exaggerating," he answered. "Never here? I'm here right now."
He laid his fork and his knife across his plate, careful to do so without
clanking them on the ceramic. Then he touched Sharon's hand, as if to
establish his presence, although he didn't take hold. Once the touch was
done, he let his hand roll to the side.
"I never exaggerate," Sharon said. Her voice was grave. "I'm serious,
Eugene. I'm asking you where you go. I get upset when you leave me by
myself."
He felt surprised she'd even noticed—she'd never said anything before.
The blood drained from his face and filled his neck. "If I go anywhere, it's
back to work, I guess," he answered. "You know, the way things pile up."
"You're sitting there thinking about work?" She drummed her fingers
on the table.
"I don't know. Not actually thinking, if you want to be technical, but
it's on my mind."
"You want to talk about it?" she asked. "You want to tell me what it
is?"
"It's too boring," Eugene said. He tipped the salad bowl toward him to
see if anything was left besides shreds of lettuce. "It's just details. You know.
It's everything I have to do."
Sharon scraped her chair back and stood up, a dish in each hand. She
shook her head at Eugene. She took the dishes to the sink.
"What?" he said. "Why are you so upset?"
"You look like you're in prison," she told him. "You know that? Like
I've got you all locked up and you can't find the key. If you want to get up,
10 Roman Norma of the Manor