SECRET Sunday, October 12, 2003 (Clare is 32, Henry is 40)

SECRET


Sunday, October 12, 2003 (Clare is 32, Henry is 40)

CLARE: This is a secret: sometimes I am glad when Henry is gone. Sometimes I enjoy
being alone. Sometimes I walk through the house late at night and I shiver with the
pleasure of not talking, not touching, just walking, or sitting, or taking a bath.
Sometimes I lie on the living room floor and listen to Fleetwood Mac, the Bangles,
the B-52’s, the Eagles, bands Henry can’t stand. Sometimes I go for long walks with
Alba and I don’t leave a note saying where I am. Sometimes I meet Celia for coffee,
and we talk about Henry, and Ingrid, and whoever Celia’s seeing that week.
Sometimes I hang out with Charisse and Gomez, and we don’t talk about Henry, and
we manage to enjoy ourselves. Once I went to Michigan and when I came back
Henry was still gone and I never told him I had been anywhere. Sometimes I get a
baby-sitter and I go to the movies or I ride my bicycle after dark along the bike path
by Montrose beach with no lights; it’s like flying.

Sometimes I am glad when Henry’s gone, but I’m always glad when he comes
back.