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That night Eric called. She told him about the prize from the
Prairie Schooner
. She told him about the lesbian. She told him about the piles of dirty clothes. She laughed uproariously as she told it. “Fateville,” she said. “Home of the Hogs and the Poets.”
“Sounds like the suitors from Ulysses,” Eric answered.
“That's what Randolph said. God, Eric, I forget how smart you are. How educated. I envy you your education. Listen, I won't stay long. Just a week or so. I need to clean this place up for the fall and answer all this mail. Is Teddy okay?”
“He's fine. You're going back in the fall? You definitely have to do that?” He sighed. He looked off into a bank of ferns growing in the dormer windows of his kitchen. His wifeless kitchen.
“Oh, please. Don't be mad about it. I have to have my turn. I never had a turn, Eric. All I had were babies.”
“It's all right. But come home soon if you're going back in the fall.”
“I'll fly home every weekend. I'll fix it so I don't have classes on Friday. I'll stay here from Monday to Thursday and be home every weekend. I thought about that driving up here. I figured it out. I love you, Eric. The happier I am, the more I love you. Don't you know that? Be happy for me. Let me have this. I have to have this. It's so important to me.” She drew in her breath. She waited.
“Of course. Whatever you want, Rhoda. Whatever you have to have. But I miss you.”
“I miss you. I love you. Take care of Teddy. It won't be long. Well, I better go now. I want to do some work.”
She hung up the phone. Then she took it off the hook. Then she made a pot of coffee and went to her typewriter and decided to write all night. It was her one and only life. Her one and only chance. The best year of her life. The year her dreams might all come true.