Mirror Image

his lounge chair, bringing himself to a sitting position. “I’m sorry, darling. What’d you say?”
    “Nothing yet.”
    “Is something wrong?”
    They were in their bedroom. The ten o’clock news, which they watched ritualistically, was over. They were preparing for bed.
    Zee’s dark hair was shining after its recent brushing. The silver streak was accented by the lamplight. Her skin, well tended because of the harsh Texas sun, was smooth. There weren’t many worry lines to mar it. There weren’t many laugh lines, either.
    “Something is going on between Tate and Carole,” she said.
    “I think they had a tiff today.” He left his chair and began removing his clothing. “They were both awfully quiet at supper.”
    Zee had also noticed the hostility in the air tonight. Where her younger son’s moods were concerned, she was particularly sensitive. “Tate wasn’t just sullen, he was mad.”
    “Carole probably did something that didn’t sit well with him.”
    “And when Tate is mad,” Zee continued as though he hadn’t spoken, “Carole is usually her most ebullient. Whenever he’s angry, she antagonizes him further by being frivolous and silly.”
    Nelson neatly hung his trousers in the closet on the rod where all his other trousers were hung. Messiness was anathema. “She wasn’t frivolous tonight. She barely said a word.”
    Zee gripped the back of her vanity stool. “That’s my point, Nelson. She was as edgy and upset as Tate. Their fights never used to be like that.”
    Dressed only in his boxer shorts now, he neatly folded back the bedspread and climbed into bed. He stacked his hands beneath his head and stared at the ceiling. “I’ve noticed several things here lately that aren’t like Carole at all.”
    “Thank God,” Zee said. “I thought I was losing my mind. I’m relieved to know somebody besides me has noticed.” She turned out the lamps and got into bed beside her husband. “She’s not as superficial as she used to be, is she?”
    “That close call with death sobered her up.”
    “Maybe.”
    “You don’t think so?”
    “If that were all, I might think that was the reason.”
    “What else?” he asked.
    “Mandy, for one. Carole’s a different person around her. Have you ever seen Carole as worried about Mandy as she was last night after her nightmare? I remember once when Mandy was running a temperature of a hundred and three. I was frantic and thought she should be taken to the emergency room. Carole was blasé. She said that all kids ran fevers. But last night, Carole was as shaken as Mandy.”
    Nelson shifted uncomfortably. Zee knew why. Deductive reasoning annoyed him. Issues were either black or white. He believed only in absolutes, with the exception of God, which, to him, was an absolute as sure as heaven and hell. Other than that, he didn’t believe in anything intangible. He was skeptical of psychoanalysis and psychiatry. In his opinion, anyone worth his salt could solve his own problems without whining for help from someone else.
    “Carole’s growing up, that’s all,” he said. “The ordeal she was put through matured her. She’s looking at things in a whole new light. She finally appreciates what she’s got—Tate, Mandy, this family. ’Bout time she got her head on straight.”
    Zee wished she could believe that. “I only hope it lasts.”
    Nelson rolled to his side, facing her, and placed his arm in the hollow of her waist. He kissed her hairline where the gray streak started. “What do you hope lasts?”
    “Her loving attitude toward Tate and Mandy. On the surface, she seems to care for them.”
    “That’s good, isn’t it?”
    “If it’s sincere. Mandy is so fragile I’m afraid she couldn’t handle the rejection if Carole reverted to her short-tempered, impatient self. And Tate.” Zee sighed. “I want him to be happy, especially at this turning point in his life, whether he wins the election or not. He deserves to be happy. He deserves to be loved.”
    “You’ve always seen to the happiness of your sons, Zee.”
    “But neither of them has a happy marriage, Nelson,” she stated wistfully. “I had hoped they would.”
    His finger touched her lips, trying to trace a smile that wasn’t there. “You haven’t changed. You’re still so romance-minded.”
    He drew her delicate body against his and kissed her. His large hands removed her nightgown and possessively caressed her naked flesh. They made love in the