Free Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs Page A

upset.”
    “Peggy Jean, please. Take up yoga or get a massage. Now if you don’t mind . . .”
    “I can’t take up yoga!” Peggy Jean cried into the phone. “I’m on live television constantly ; I don’t have time. Please, I can’t be anxious on television .”
    The doctor was silent for a moment. “Okay, Peggy, here’s what I’ll do: I’ll phone in a prescription—just a small one—for Valium, and you can pick it up at CVS, okay? And remember, they’re just for anxiety attacks.”
    She was flooded with relief and gratitude. “Yes, yes, good, thank you. All right then, good-bye, Doctor.” After Peggy Jean hung up, she replied to the hateful E-mail.

    To: [email protected]
    Fr: [email protected]
    Subject: Re: Too good for me, huh?

While Peggy Jean does read all of her E-mail, it’s impossible for her to reply personally to each and every person. Therefore, she has asked me to write you on her behalf and thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to write. Peggy Jean hopes that you continue to enjoy Sellevision and she looks forward to shopping with you in the future.

    It then occurred to her that Zoe might not be a stranger at all, but one of the other hosts. A disgruntled host. Perhaps a host who had been recently fired?
    Max had always acted strange around her. What was it about him? He was so . . . happy . Happy-go-lucky Max. Peggy Jean bit her lip. It made sense. Max was homosexual, after all. And those homosexuals were constantly holding angry marches or demonstrations and carrying picket signs. Not to mention those red ribbons they always wore. Blood -red ribbons. They were so confrontational. Peggy Jean shivered as a chill went down her spine. The sad but true fact of life was that not everybody was a good Christian. She would have to give this “Max/Zoe thing some more thought.

    W
    hat the hell are you telling me, Howard? Hmmm?” Leigh was blinking back tears, arms folded tightly across her chest, bold Stampato bracelet layered on her arm with a sterling Greek Key two-inch-wide cuff.
    Howard, sitting at his desk, was trying to explain the meaninglessness of the two American Airlines round-trip tickets from Philadelphia to St. Barts that the travel department had just delivered to him. The skin on his face was smooth and moisturized from an afternoon facial. Explaining the trip he was taking with his wife had turned out to be more complicated than he had anticipated. But what did he think? That Leigh would wrap her arms around him and say, “I understand, darling”?
    “Leigh—honey—it’s not what it seems like. I swear—I’m going to bring up the divorce the moment we get back, maybe even on the plane ride home.”
    Leigh was still standing across from him with her eyes trained on the ceiling.
    “Look, Leigh, I love you , it’s you that I love. It’s just that if I don’t take this trip with her, it’ll make everything worse. She’s liable to explode and contest the divorce. But giving her a chance to relax, beforehand—it’s a strategy, Leigh, that’s all it is—a strategy.”
    “This is just so . . .” Leigh was struggling to maintain her composure, struggling hard not to simply pick the onyx-handled letter opener up off his desk and plunge it into his neck. “. . . I feel, I don’t know, used . This is just not what I want for myself.”
    Rising from his chair and going over to Leigh, Howard—gently, slowly—placed his hands on her shoulders.
    She looked away from him.
    “Leigh, I mean it when I tell you that this is for the best, it’s for us. Trust me, please? Don’t give up on us, Leigh.”
    “So how long are you going to be away?”
    “It’s just for a week, baby, that’s all—a week.”
    “And you swear that you’ll tell her after?”
    Wrapping Leigh in his arms, he held her tight. “Yes, yes, I promise with all my heart . . . a heart that no longer belongs to me.”
    She relaxed against him.
    He made a mental note to ask his