These Days
week one

She has stopped working now and I have someone else to sell for me. Snoddy, he's at the bar again, probably deep into his misery. It is late summer and we sit on the Lodging House stoop, my skinned knees and her kind face. I know her so well, but still it's awkward. She catches me stealing looks at her, her face, her body, those new bags under her eyes, and she doesn't say anything but it makes me feel guilty nonetheless. Sometimes I feel like Snoddy: I can't come to terms with it. I haven't asked her anything. Yet. Instead I play it safe. This is not a job I would have asked for.

"Are you hungry?" I ask this looking at my boots. One scuffs at the other uncomfortably.

I can see her shrug from the corner of my eye. "Not really," she says, settling down with her elbows on her own knees, which are tucked up to her chest childishly.

"You, uhm…" I scratch at my neck, now, desperate not to make eye contact. "The doctor… well, he was saying you should be eating, er, drinking. A lot." Shit. "Uhm. Keep you healthy."

She just shrugs again. "Let's go for a walk."
-
She's still pretty, and I don't feel as bad staring at her now because I am walking behind her. Her hips sway just the slightest bit when she walks, her legs are long and sometimes her skirt will swing up a little and I catch a glimpse of those smooth ankles. Her arms are uncovered and on her left hand she wears that ring that Snoddy gave her, the one that she likes because the light catches it. Her eyes and her hair are brown and dark and she likes to smile. She used to smile a lot. I wonder if she still will.

"Why don't you walk up here with me, Specs?" She asks and looks over her shoulder, catching me once again. I start to walk faster so I can be right beside her.

"It's a gorgeous day," she says, and when I don't answer, adds, "do you wish you were selling?"

"No," I say. "Not really. Not now. It's… it's nice not to worry about it."

She nods, and we walk in silence a little more. I know that she is thinking about Snoddy, and why he is still selling, but I'm glad that she doesn't ask me. I wouldn't know how to answer.

---

Later the next day Snoddy gives me money to take her out to lunch, because I told him that she wasn't eating and he got a little upset. Rita didn't care, she told him that she wasn't hungry, and when that didn't work she told him that she wasn't feeling well. He apologized, then, and became sad. They talked.
-
I read the day's newspaper while she works on a sandwich, eating it in small bites and chewing a lot. I can't tell whether she is forcing it down or trying to savor it. I think about what the doctor said: he gave her four weeks and no more, but looking at her eat that sandwich she seems fine, so a little part of me hopes that she'll make it for more. Forever. For Snoddy.

I forget about that hope, though, when she starts coughing.

---

All the other guys, I think they're just like me. They don't know what to do. They avoid her without meaning to, which is sad, because I think it makes her feel bad. But it's not their fault. They just don't know what to say. They start to look at me like that, too, a little, until I talk to them, and I talk about her like she's still normal. Like she's still the girl they all grew up having crushes on, not the girl who will be dead before the end of next month. They talk to me, but they don't talk to her. And they don't talk to Snoddy.

---

Now it's Friday and I take her to the park because it's another beautiful day. I'm in a good mood and she's in a good mood, but then she starts asking questions.

"Specs," she says. We're lounging around under one of the big maple trees. "Is he really too busy to see me?"

She looks at me and somehow the power of her gaze forces me to meet her eyes.

"Uhm," I say. "He tries. He… he has a lot of meetings to go to. And stuff. He has to make a lot of people happy." But I know that right at that moment the only meeting he had was with a bartender, and the only person he was set on making happy was himself. I don't dare tell her any of those thoughts.

"Yeah," she says thoughtfully, and sighs. "I guess it must be really hard, taking over like this."

"It's a lot of work," I agree, ready to back up whatever reasoning she might have.

"I'll get to see him tonight." And she says this as if it will comfort me, but it's really just to reassure herself.

---

When Jack left there was no chaos. There were no fights, no hurt feelings. Everybody was too shocked to do anything but the normal routine, we were frozen and hurt and we went on pretending that he was still there. We went on pretending for a long time.

Maybe Rita noticed because she was an outside observer, I don't know, but she convinced Snoddy that he had to step it up somewhere. And I agreed, of course, because if no one else was going to take action than Snoddy may as well take charge. No one challenged him. Not in our area, at least.

---

A lot of the time I end up forgetting that she is sick, and that helps our relationship. For some reason it surprised me that she just wanted to talk about normal things, like my friends, and her own gossip, and selling. I guess I thought that she would be talking about the doctor, and her illness. That she would be thinking a lot about her time left, or maybe she wouldn't even be talking at all. With her acting so normal, I forget easily, and I am able to act normal, too. But not Snoddy. He hasn't been around her enough lately to see this, and I can see the stiffness in his movements and speaking, and the way his eyes look at her in pity and regret instead of love.

Her eyes still shine with love. They remain bright, even as her skin grows paler.