Free Passion and Affect by Laurie Colwin

going to Bermuda. She took the children there every year, and Max, if he could get away, came down for a long weekend, but this year he decided that he had too much work. The night before Olivia and the babies left, Max patrolled early. Olivia was sitting on the bed waiting for him when he came in. He took off his boots and his jacket which was stiff with cold.
    â€œI don’t want to leave,” Olivia said. “I’m worried about you.”
    â€œThere isn’t anything to worry about,” said Max. “I’m concerned about all this flu.”
    Olivia had fine straight hair that was scopped into a coil at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were gray and very steady. She lowered her eyes and asked Max if he were having an affair.
    â€œHow can you possibly ask?” said Max. It was like an assault.
    â€œI know you’re not,” said Olivia. “But I had to ask. I’ve been desperate about you.”
    â€œBut nothing’s changed between us.”
    â€œMax, every morning, every night. For God’s sake, it’s too cold for dogs to be out, let alone rats. I don’t know what’s on your mind. I don’t understand at all. It upsets me all the time.” She began to cry and Max held her in his arms. There was no one in his life except her, and he knew it was something she had to ask. He held her and comforted her, but there was no way for him to explain himself.
    â€œLivvie, Eddie Crater told me I had to be on the lookout. Rats are a serious problem. I don’t want them to come back this spring with the kids swimming and all.”
    â€œI just don’t understand,” Olivia said, sobbing. “I understand you all the time, but not this.”
    â€œIt’ll be all right,” Max said. “It’s all right now. I can’t put poison in the water so I have to be sure. Please, Livvie, don’t worry. It’s a small thing.”
    The next day he drove them to the airport. It was snowing lightly and flakes flew up against the windshield. The lights craning over the road were fringed with icicles. His children giggled and clowned in the back seat. Max held Olivia’s hand and at every stoplight he turned to her and smiled. They waited for the plane in a tight, loving circle, hugging and kissing, until the flight was called. Max watched from the observation deck while the plane took off, and followed it until the clouds covered it.
    In the car on the way home, Max was filled with dread. At night mostly, but sometimes during the day, fear assailed him. It was palpable and he could feel it in the area of his heart. It was not disease: he knew that from his yearly checkup. It was terror. Calamities occurred to him, especially alone in the car with his family hovering in the air. He thought of the airplane hanging tenuously in space. He knew life contained profound miseries: something could happen to his children. Hamish was prone to bronchitis, and in his sicknesses Max saw death. Sandy was the most mobile and daring of the four. He was fearless, sprinting from ledges and walls. It only took chance, a hairsbreadth for him to fall and shatter, break his young bones too far from home for help. Paul and Scottie, dreamy infants, could be lured and kidnapped. It happened to other people’s children and was reported in the newspapers. He thought of Olivia and the scores of marriages that had smashed around them: if Olivia left him, ceased to love him, got sick. This terrible set of possibilities attacked the shell of his life and put an edge on his happiness. But it seemed to him that life was teaching him the meaning of true happiness, and the secret was that it was difficult and terrifying to be blessed.
    It was only chance that he possessed what he had and he had seen what life could do—how it crippled, maimed, killed off, and destroyed. He had seen other people grief-stricken, heartsick, and suffering. Something very different had happened to