To Be a Virtuous Wife, According to the Manual novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: Let Him Talk First

I walked across the cold floor and sat down beside him on the running board.

I didn't touch him. I only sat.

The garage smelled of oil and rubber and the damp October dark.

He didn't turn his head.

"Go back to bed, Dolores," he said. His voice was flat and careful, like a man walking on ice.

"No."

"I'll be in in a minute."

"Then I'll wait."

Neither of us said anything for a long time.

My feet went numb. His hands went on shaking.

Rule 7 in my mother's book says, "Let him talk first."

My mother meant it as manners.

I decided it meant exactly what it said.

I laid my hand over both of his, there between his knees.

His fingers were icy. They turned over under mine and gripped.

"I had a dream," he said finally.

"All right."

"I do that. Sometimes. I should've told you."

"You can tell me when you want to."

"It's ugly."

"All right."

"I'll tell you," he said. "Not tonight."

"Not tonight," I agreed.

He let out a long, uneven breath and put his forehead down on our joined hands.

I stayed where I was.

After a while his shoulders loosened, and I led him up the path in the dark, and up the stairs, and into the bed.

He fell asleep with his face in my neck.

I lay awake until the window turned gray.

I came to one conclusion, and it was this.

My husband had a locked room in him, and I was not going to knock.

I was going to wait by the door until he opened it himself.

The next night was Thursday, and I put my hair up and wore the nightgown I'd bought for the wedding trip we never took.

He came to bed late.

He had been in the cellar fixing something that didn't need fixing. I knew because I'd heard the wrench not turning.

"Dolores," he said at the door of the bedroom. "About last night..."

"Rule 7."

"What's that one?"

"Let him talk first."

"Is that tonight's book report?"

"It is." I patted the bed. "Come here. You talk. I'll listen."

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and looked wary.

"Talk about what?"

"About what you want."

"I want to go to sleep."

"You do not."

He started to laugh. "You're scheming."

"It says, let him talk first. So you talk first. I won't say a word until you've finished."

"And if I never finish?"

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