A Widow for One Year - Page 63

Jane Dash, the mother of the groom, and Eleanor Holt, the mother of the bride, must share the responsibility of raising their grandchildren when the children’s parents are killed in a plane crash. (The trip was to be a second honeymoon for the young couple, who were celebrating their tenth anniversary.) At the time of the plane crash, Mrs. Dash is already a widow—she never remarries—and Eleanor Holt is divorced for the second time.

It was Ruth Cole’s first novel to have an optimistic (if not altogether happy) ending, although Jane Dash remains uneasy about her friendship with Eleanor Holt—on the basis of “the sea changes in Eleanor’s character, which had so distinguished Eleanor’s past.” Hannah, fully recognizing Eleanor as “the Hannah character,” had taken offense at this line.

“What ‘sea changes’ have you observed in my character?” Hannah demanded to know. “You may not always approve of my behavior, but exactly what about my character is inconsistent or contradictory?”

“There’s nothing about you that’s ‘contradictory,’ Hannah,” Ruth had told her friend. “And you’re much more consistent than I am. I haven’t noticed a single change in your character—not even a little change, or a welcome change, much less a ‘sea change.’ ”

Hannah found this a confounding answer, and she said so, but Ruth merely suggested that this was evidence—if Hannah needed any— that Eleanor Holt was not the Hannah character that Hannah thought she was. It was there that an uneasy standoff between Ruth and Hannah had ended—at least until Ruth had invited Hannah to come hear her read from the novel, and that invitation had had less to do with the novel, which Hannah had already read, than with the exciting prospect of meeting Eddie O’Hare.

The other person whom Hannah had expressed an almost equal excitement about meeting was the man Ruth had described to her as her “present” boyfriend. In truth, he was more in the category of a would-be boyfriend—“a boyfriend candidate,” as Hannah would say. This boyfriend-in-waiting also happened to be Ruth’s new editor—that same Very Important Person at Random House whom Eddie O’Hare had taken a dislike to on the basis of his avuncular heartiness, and of his never remembering that he’d met Eddie before.

Yes, Ruth had already told Hannah, he was the best editor she’d ever worked with. Yes, she had never—not to this degree—met a man she could talk to and listen to. Ruth felt there was no one, with the possible exception of Hannah, who knew her so well. Not only was he forthright and strong, but he challenged her “in all the good ways.”

“What are the ‘good ways’?” Hannah had asked.

“Oh, you’ll meet him—you’ll see,” Ruth had told her. “He’s also a gentleman.”

“He’s old enough to be,” Hannah had replied. “I mean, he’s the right generation for gentlemanly behavior. What is he, anyway—twelve, fifteen years older than you are?” (She’d seen a photograph.)

“Eighteen,” Ruth had said quietly.

“That’s a gentleman, all right,” Hannah had said. “And doesn’t he have children? My God, how old are they ? They could be as old as you are!”

“He has no children,” Ruth replied.

“But I thought he was married for years and years,” Hannah said. “Why doesn’t he have children?”

“His wife didn’t want children—she was afraid of having children,” Ruth said.

“Sounds like you, sort of,” Hannah said.

“Allan wanted a child, his wife didn’t,” Ruth admitted.

“So he still wants a child,” Hannah concluded.

“It’s something we’re talking about,” Ruth confessed.

“And I suppose he still talks to the ex-wife. Let’s hope that his will be the last generation of men who feel it’s necessary to keep talking to their ex-wives,” Hannah dismissively said. It was her journalist’s sensibility: everyone’s statistics are presumed to comply to age, to education, to type . It was an infuriating way to think, but Ruth bit her tongue. “So,” Hannah had added philosophically, “I suppose the sex is . . . all you expected?”

“We haven’t had sex yet,” Ruth admitted.

“Who’s waiting

?” Hannah asked.

“We both are,” Ruth had lied. Allan was being patient; it was Ruth who was “waiting.” She was so afraid that she wouldn’t like sex with him that she had procrastinated. She didn’t want to have to stop thinking of him as the man in her life.

“But you said he asked you to marry him!” Hannah had cried. “He wants to marry you and he hasn’t had sex with you yet? That’s not even generational behavior—that’s his father’s generation, or his grandfather’s !”

“He wants me to know that I’m not just another girlfriend to him,” Ruth told Hannah.

“You’re not yet a girlfriend at all!” Hannah said.

“I think it’s sweet,” Ruth said. “He’s in love with me before he’s slept with me. I think it’s nice.”

“It’s different, ” Hannah allowed. “So what are you afraid of ?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Ruth lied.

Tags: John Irving Fiction
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