The Unremarkable Heart

television? Shall I read you the paper?
    And today, as always, he did these things, asked these questions, and June checked each item off her mental list, shaking her head to the offer of food, to the trip outside. She asked for the local paper to be read, wanting him here, unreasonably, after wanting him away for so long.
    Richard snapped open the newspaper, cleared his throat and began reading. ‘A severe weather pattern is expected to hit the county around three this afternoon.’
    His voice settled into a low hum, and June was consumed with the guilty knowledge of what the day would really hold. It was a secret that reminded her of the early days of their marriage. They had both been children of loveless unions, parents who hated each other yet could not survive in the world outside the miserable one they had created. In their young fervor, June and Richard had promised each other they would never be like their parents. They would always be truthful. No matter how difficult, there would be nothing unsaid between them.
    How had that façade cracked? Was it June who had first lied? The obfuscations had come in dribs and drabs. An ugly shirt he loved that she claimed had been ruinedin the wash. A forgotten dinner with friends that she did not want to attend. Once, June had accidentally dropped a whole chicken on the floor and still put it in the pot for supper. She had watched him eat that night, his jaw working like a turning gear, and felt some satisfaction in knowing what she had done.
    Had Richard done that to her as well? Had there been a time at the dinner table when he had stared at her, all the while relishing the knowledge of his crimes? Had there been a night when he made love to her in this bed, his eyes closed in seeming ecstasy as he thought not of June, but of the others?
    ‘The school board has decided to renew the contract with Davis Janitorial for the maintenance of both the elementary and middle schools,’ Richard continued.
    Early on in this process, June had felt much derision for the simple stories told by the Harris Tribune to the twelve thousand residents of their small town. Lately, they had taken on the importance of real news – The Renewed Maintenance Contract! The New Bench Erected in the Downtown Park! – and June had found herself thinking of all those foolish stories people told about near-death experiences. There was always a tunnel, a light up ahead they chose to walk toward or away from. June saw now that there was, in fact, a tunnel – a narrowing of life, so that stories as simple as what the elementary school was serving for lunch this week took on infinite importance.
    ‘What’s that?’ Richard was staring at her, expectant. ‘What did you say?’
    She shook her head. Had she actually spoken? She could not remember the last time she’d participated in a real conversation beyond her grunts for yes or no. June was capable of speech, but words caught in her throat. Questions caught – things she needed to ask him. Always, she said to herself – tomorrow. I’ll ask him tomorrow. TheScarlett O’Hara of dying high school administrators. But there would be no tomorrow now. She would have to ask him today or die without knowing.
    ‘Harris Motors has asked for a side set-back variance in order to expand their used car showroom. Those wishing to speak either for or against the proposal can—’
    His shirt was buttoned to the top, the collar tight around his neck. It was an affectation he’d picked up in prison. The pursed lips, the hard stare – those were all his own, conjured during the lead-up to the trial, when June had realized with shocking familiarity that for all their attempts, they had become the one thing they set out not to do: trapped in a loveless marriage, a cold union. Lying to each other to make the day go quickly, only to get up the next morning to find a whole new day of potential lies and omissions spread out before them.
    She remembered glancing around the prison visiting room, seeing the other inmates with their stiff collars of their blue shirts buttoned snug around their necks, and thinking, ‘You’ve finally found a way to fit in.’
    Because Richard had never really fit in. Early on, it was one of the things she loved about him. Friends joked about his lack of masculine pursuits. He was a voracious reader, couldn’t stand sports and tended to take contrary political views in order to play devil’s advocate. Not the ideal party guest, but to