The smell was like stale, sweet cheese. It came from his body and hovered in a thick net around the bed. It made Lola feel bilious. She began sleeping with the window open. For thirty-five years she had lived with deadlocks, combination locks and iron bolts; her home security system was updated annually. Now, her fear of rapists, burglars and murderers paled next to the horror of the smell. It came from his ears, his feet, his hands and his neck. She could smell it in the bathroom when he showered. In the kitchen, it crept across the breakfast table. It soaked into her coffee and filtered itself through her grapefruit juice. Was Rodney suspicious? Was this his body’s reaction? Like a skunk putting out a stink when it feels in danger? But Rodney didn’t know that she was in love with anyone but him. She had been devotedly faithful to him for thirteen years. More than that, they were the ideal couple. Lola loved the image of herself, a dark, wild-haired, large-eyed Jewess, standing next to the tall, pale son of the city’s establishment.
