"Effinger, George Alec - Maureen Birnbaum 03 - Maureen Birnbaum at the Looming Awfulness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

ELIZABETH SPIEGELMAN

MAUREEN BIRNBAUM AT THE LOOMING AWFULNESS

Have you ever had your life fall apart like a condominium of cards? I have, God
knows. I know the feeling. One day I'm a happy wife and mother, married to my
Josh, a successful doctor in Queens, New York. We doted on our baby son, Malachi
Bret. Mums' aggravation I could keep to a minimum, and I couldn't have asked for
more.

We had just about everything a young, upwardly mobile family should have. We had
two cars, both sleek, one cream and one fire-engine red. Our condo was in a
predominantly non-ethnic neighborhood. We belonged to a very high-class health
club, and we went there at least twice a month -- we sat in the Jacuzzi, mostly.
Josh did tennis now and then, and sometimes when I felt like it I did Richard
Simmons. His video tapes, I mean. I had a glass-fronted cabinet stuffed with my
favorite Mikasa china pattern in a complete service for sixteen. Josh's practice
was growing so quickly that he had to take on a junior partner to handle the
boring stuff.

Life was like good.

For a while.

One day Josh came home from his office and sat down heavilyin a chair. There
wasn't anything unusual in that because he always sat down heavily. That's
because he's -- heavy. Quite a bit heavier than the slim and trim Josh I
married.

All right, I'm heavier, too. That's why we go to the health club every few
weeks. None of that is important, though. After Josh got comfortable enough, he
turned to me with an embarrassed smile. "Betsy," he goes, "there's something
we've got to talk about. "

Uh oh, I go. There are only a few times in your life when someone goes, "There's
something we've got to talk about." One time is when a cherished friend or
family mere bet has slipped into an irreversible coma. This happens on "Days of
Our Lives" all the time. Somehow, though, I didn't think that was the news that
Josh was waiting to tell me.

"What is it, Josh?" I go, my voice all weak and like trembling. There'd been a
lot of changes -- maybe too many-- in roy life lately. Like I'd been a militant
vegetarian for a while but I was cured by a bacon chili cheeseburger with
grilled onions from Bar's Mike and Grill not far from our house. And ray maroon
Renault had gone to car hell because no one in town would work on it, and Josh
had bought me a cream '77 Fiat 124 Spider 'cause I'd always wanted a little
European roadster. It wasn't running so well, either.