Astonish Me by Maggie Shipstead Page B

caves that perforate its sides. A waterfall cascades behind an arched stone bridge. Passengers shout and scream; every minute or so the abominable snowman who lives inside gives a loud roar. Tim offers Sandy a sip of his soda, and she drinks coquettishly from the straw. Harry clutches his stomach and complains of butterflies. “After this,” Sandy tells him, “when you’re a roller coaster pro, we can go on the space ride. You go really fast past stars and planets. There’s a chocolate chip cookie in the sky, but only for a second. You have to watch for it.”
    “My mom might want me to wait with her,” says Harry.
    “You’ve been on it?” Chloe asks Sandy.
    “Yes,” Sandy says.
    “Daddy was probably with you. That’s probably why you weren’t afraid.”
    “No,” Sandy says, “I wasn’t afraid because I wasn’t afraid. It was fun.”
    “Your mother is very brave,” Tim tells Chloe. “Fearless.”
    “How do you know?”
    He winks at Sandy. “I can just tell. She’s that kind of lady.”
    “You have no idea,” Sandy says, feeling cheerful again. Tim starts to yodel along with the music. The children fall all over themselves laughing. She wonders if he’d been making her jealous on purpose, as a tactic, or if Joan is simply out of sight and out of mind. She sidles closer to him, leaning against the railing, and while the children reach through a low fence to pluck white and purple petals from the flowers planted around the mountain’s base, he puts his arm behind her, around her, his fingers brushing her side. When the children look up, he swings away as though stretching.
    “How’s the single life?” she asks in a low, confidential voice.
    “Fine most of the time, but I get lonely. I don’t do so great with being lonely.”
    “Fat chance.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I bet you’re never lonely. I bet you’re a ladykiller.”
    “Me?” He twinkles. “Nope, crying into my can of soup every night.”
    “Right.”
    Chloe lolls against the railing, watching them, her fists full of petals. “Sweetie,” says Sandy, “don’t stare. What is it?”
    “Why are you talking to him?”
    “He’s my friend. My new friend Tim.”
    Glowering, Chloe goes back to the flowers. Tim leans close to Sandy’s ear and says, “I do like those ladies, though.”
    “Big surprise.”
    He undoes his ponytail and combs his hair with his fingers, making a new one. There are damp spots in the armpits of his red T-shirt. “How’s married life?” he asks.
    “Could be worse.”
    “Sorry.”
    “You know how it is.”
    The tip of Tim’s thumb rubs the side of her hand. “This is a greatday,” he says. “My girl is happy. Not a cloud in the sky. Got a gorgeous new friend. Life seems pretty good.”
    “I agree,” Sandy says. The pressure of his thumb increases.
    BY THE TIME THEY BOARD THEIR TOBOGGAN , WHICH , HARRY RIGHTLY points out, looks more like a spaceship than a sled, Sandy is officially keyed up. Sex saturates the world, blurring it. Tim climbs in first and pats the blue plastic between his legs. Sandy sits, nesting in his groin. Chloe hesitates, wanting to sit with them, but Sandy tells her to get in the front compartment with Harry. The children are loose in the space, small and jittery. As the ride jerks out of the station, Sandy leans back against Tim’s chest. Chloe twists around. “Mom, I don’t want to fly out.”
    “Did you fasten the belt?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then you won’t fly out.”
    “We can fly out?” Harry cries, also turning around.
    “No,” Tim says. “You’re safe. Look straight ahead so you don’t hurt your neck.” The toboggan rattles down through a cave and then clanks slowly up through a steep darkness, flattening Sandy against Tim. His breathing lifts and lowers her. Boldly, he slips a hand under her arm and squeezes her breast, too hard really, but she lifts her arm, giving him better access. The air turns cold and damp; tape-recorded wind howls; the abominable