Free Women Drinking Benedictine by Sharon Dilworth Page A

“This guy is absolutely devastated and ashamed that he can’t read. And talk about a punishment. Nothing as simple as losing a job. He couldn’t read his wife’s suicide note and didn’t give it to anybody in time to save her.”
    â€œI don’t get it,” Mitch says. “How could the wife be so sure that he could have saved her?”
    â€œThey own property in Milan, just south of Ann Arbor,” Carol explains. “And that’s where the wife said she was going to kill herself. Only she didn’t drive on the highways. She was scared to death of trucks. She thought they’d stray out of their lanes and smash her car into the guardrails. So when she’d drive out to the property, she’d take the back roads.”
    â€œThe back roads to Ann Arbor?” Mitch says. “That’s got to take a couple of hours.”
    â€œRight.” Carol tears off a piece of bread and Mitch passes her the butter dish. This small gesture pleases her. It shows her that he is aware of her needs, and she rushes ahead with her story. “That’s what the wife was counting on. She thought the daughter would read Donald the note as soon as he got home. Donald would be frantic, and he’d drive out to the property in time to rescue her. But his daughter got sick, and the neighbor across the street came over to borrow something, and Donald forgot all about the note in his pocket.”
    Mitch asks her if she’s going to eat the rest of her chicken. Carol tells him he can have it. She is irritated that he’s not more taken with the story. It is just the kind of thing that they usually share about their volunteer jobs.
    â€œHis wife was waiting out in the country listening for car tires on the gravel roads. I can just imagine her sitting there on the grass while the sun went down, waiting for someone to save her. I guess when it got dark and no one had come to rescue her, she decided she had to go through with it. Donald thinks it’s because no one came that she went ahead and killed herself. She must have gotten lonelier and lonelier, thinking everyone hated her. I mean why else would a whole family ignore a suicide note.”
    â€œDid she do it with a gun?” Mitch asks.
    â€œNo, she hanged herself.”
    â€œThat’s brutal,” Mitch says. “Really brutal.”
    â€œI keep thinking about Donald and how guilty he must feel about the whole thing. He says he’s embarrassed to go anywhere. He thinks people point at him and say, ‘There’s that dumb man who couldn’t even read his wife’s suicide note.’”
    â€œHas he asked you out yet?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œIt sounds to me like your friend Donald is hitting on you.” “He tells me about his wife killing herself, and you think he’s hitting on me?”
    â€œDon’t get excited.”
    â€œThen tell me what you meant.”
    â€œHow about if you tell me how much time you spent reading tonight?”
    Carol stammers and Mitch laughs.
    â€œSee, I told you.” Mitch cuts her leftover chicken into squares. “The guy’s interested in you.”
    â€œHe is not interested in me,” Carol wipes her mouth and then tosses the napkin onto the table. “He’s not like that. He’s just a sad man with real problems.”
    â€œAnd you’re a young woman willing to listen to him.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Carol says. “I’m showing him some compassion.”
    â€œAn awful lot of compassion from what I can see.” Mitch smiles.
    â€œWell, at least it’s normal compassion,” Carol says. “What does that mean?”
    â€œHe probably doesn’t make his women leave the house at six o’clock in the morning.”
    Mitch drops the fork with the square piece of chicken onto his plate. He is quiet for only a moment. “How long have you been spying on