It wouldn’t do for the chief of police of Charleston to find us twisted up like a couple of undulating pretzels. Just a thought.“What’s the latest with Valerie?” I said, since Ed had not yet arrived, and I felt compelled to ask about her, as I had just experienced a vision of my hips under her husband’s. Guilt.“I don’t know. Terrible, I guess. When she’s home, she’s usually sleeping, and frankly, we aren’t talking much. When we do speak, it’s ugly. She is one very angry woman. I mean, I can’t blame her. But she’s dangerously ill, at least in my opinion, and she doesn’t want any help, so it’s very frustrating for me.”“Great. But she thinks she has reasonable cause for her rage. She doesn’t know how well behaved we are.”“True. I’m sure she imagines us having this huge love affair.”“Meanwhile, we’re like Saint Francis and Saint Claire, Abelard and Héloïse…”“Exactly. Meanwhile, every time I see her, she’s as tight as a tick or stoned to the bone or some combination of the above.
