Standard Deviation

Graham began opening the dresser drawers. Sweaters, panty hose, a whole drawer of slips, another whole drawer of camisoles. And finally—here we go. The bottom drawer was empty except for a Valentine’s Day card and a small jeweler’s box. The card had no envelope, and when Graham picked it up, it felt dusty to the touch. On the front was a silhouette of a couple under a heart-shaped umbrella. It was signed All my love, M. Well. Indeed. Graham didn’t need Audra to tell him that men only signed with their initial when they were married. He put the card back. The jeweler’s box held two wedding rings. One was Elspeth’s mother’s—he recognized it instantly. A silver octagonal ring that had always struck him as uncomfortable-looking. Or was that because he had only ever seen it on an arthritic finger? The other ring was slim and gold and, he realized with surprise, was Elspeth’s own, the one Graham had given her long ago. He put the ring in his palm and closed his fingers over it, trying to remember what Elspeth’s face had looked like when they said their vows. But all he could recall was the minister’s face—a very pink face, the color of smoked salmon, and beaded with perspiration. The minister had either been rushing from an earlier wedding or had some sort of cardiovascular disease because he had puffed and wheezed so heavily throughout the ceremony that Graham had feared the man would have a heart attack. Now all Graham could summon up of Elspeth at their wedding was a faint memory of a cool white presence in a gauzy veil standing next to him in the church, as though she had been a ghost already.

He put the rings back in the box and shut the drawer gently.

Audra and Mr. Perkins had apparently finished their tour of the apartment. (Graham later learned from Audra that the closet in the guest room was completely empty, which not only disappointed her but made her feel inadequate as a housekeeper.) They were seated at the dining room table with cups of tea. Graham walked past them into the kitchen.

“Graham and Elspeth had the most teenage type of relationship imaginable,” Audra was saying. She frequently talked about him even when he was standing right there. It was sort of like being a supporting character in a book someone else was writing. “Always either best friends or worst enemies. Actually, more like hostile roommates, even after they stopped living together. This sort of mind-set like ‘Well, you kept me up all night playing your stupid music so I’m going to hide the carrot peeler.’ That’s not an actual example, but that sort of mentality. You know what I mean?”

“Well, yes, I think so,” Mr. Perkins said tentatively.

Graham sighed and looked around the kitchen. He checked the lower cabinets and found the All-Clad frying pan, right there with the others where it should be. He took the frying pan out and held it for a moment. It was just as he remembered—the perfect weight, the perfect size. (All-Clad had discontinued this particular model, which is why he didn’t have his own. Plus Audra put everything in the dishwasher and their frying pans didn’t look as glossy and perfect as this one.) Graham put it back.

“Their whole marriage was like that,” Audra said in the other room. “Graham told me once that he moved the living room furniture around and the very next day while he was at work, Elspeth moved it all right back. And neither of them said anything about it! Both just as stubborn as could be! They just had this sort of falsely civil supper and pretended that furniture arranges itself.”

Graham had forgotten that furniture episode, but it was true. Elspeth had gone out and bought special casters to put under the legs of the sofa just so she could push it back into place without having to ask him to help. Had he and Elspeth been like teenagers? It seemed to him that their relationship had been so complicated, so layered, so intricate, that it was beyond anyone’s understanding, but maybe not.

“And even after their divorce, it was like that,” Audra said. “We never knew where we stood with her. You could call her up one day and she’d be so happy to hear from you, and the next day, she’d be all ‘What? What? I can’t hear you! Speak up!’ even when the connection was totally clear. That kind of conversation—you know?”

“Oh, yes,” Mr. Perkins said unexpectedly. You could never be sure, with Audra, exactly how much of the conversation the other person would be able to follow.

“Personally, I think that’s why Graham married Elspeth in the first place,” Audra said. “He was attracted by her unpredictability. Men are so gullible! He liked the way she was cold one minute and then loving two seconds later. It was really a sign of how incompatible they were, but Graham thought it showed, I don’t know, her passionate nature or something.”

“My wife was like that,” Mr. Perkins said in a soft, contemplative tone. “Fire and ice.”

“I believe ‘fire and ice’ is a certain type of oral sex,” Audra said. “But, yes, that sort of idea.”

There was a very startled silence. The apartment itself seemed shocked—Graham imagined he could hear teaspoons rattling in the silver chest.

“Well,” Mr. Perkins said. He had to make another start. “Well.”

“So what’s going to happen to this apartment?” Audra said. “Who did Elspeth leave it to?”

Undoubtedly that was confidential information, but Mr. Perkins was either too flustered to recall that or too grateful for the change of subject to protest. “Elspeth had no close relatives,” he said. “The apartment and all the contents are to go to the Global Fund for Women.”

“Even those pretty towels with the pink rosebuds?” Audra asked wistfully.

“Yes, everything,” Mr. Perkins said.

Graham turned back to the kitchen. What to take? Not something decorative—he didn’t want to stare at a reminder of Elspeth in his living room (and he didn’t want the decorative object to stare at him, either). And not something distinctive, because he didn’t want Elspeth sneaking up on him in the form of a vintage nutmeg grater when he opened the cupboard and least expected it. Of course, he could take nothing at all and just go home, but he didn’t feel right about that. And he planned to use whatever he took, because taking some little knickknack and sticking it in the closet and then throwing it out one Saturday when the clutter of your closet got too overwhelming—well, that was too apt a metaphor of Elspeth’s existence.

At last Graham chose a plain rectangular wooden cutting board. Because although Graham loved many things about cooking—the predictability and the orderliness and the almost immediate gratification—he loved the mindlessness of chopping vegetables most of all. When he was chopping vegetables, he could achieve a mildly stoned state of reflection. Sometimes, on weekends, he made a very complicated minestrone from scratch just because it involved so much chopping. It went without saying that he owned several cutting boards, and one or two were nearly indistinguishable from the cutting board he held in his hands now. That was why Graham chose it. Maybe, if he was lucky, it would get mixed in with all the others, and after a while, Graham would never know which one it was.



Julio moved in on Friday night. He brought with him only a Tupperware container, a small leather toiletry case, and his doorman uniform in a dry-cleaning bag.

“Oh, that is so sad!” Audra whispered to Graham. “Imagine moving through life with so few possessions.”

Graham could imagine it. He thought it was probably wonderfully freeing.

Julio handed the Tupperware container to Graham. “Mama sent you this,” he said. “It’s her one-pot chorizo-and-potato stew for us to have for supper tonight.”

Julio’s mother sent them supper and they didn’t have to even meet her, let alone endure an evening of small talk? Now there was a relationship Graham could get behind. It was even better than pizza delivery because not only did you have to pay for the pizza, but the delivery guy had a tendency to hang around and talk to Audra about his romantic life. (He was seeing this girl who posted cat GIFs all the time and— Oh, never mind.)

“Thank your mother for us,” Graham said. “I’m sure it will be delicious.”

“She said to serve it with sourdough bread,” Julio said, “and sends her apologies for not having a fresh loaf ready for me to take.”

Homemade bread? It was very possible that Graham might be in love with Mama Julio.

“Oh, I’m sure just regular bread will be fine,” Audra said. She would think that. She was so—so offhand about food.

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