Happy Medium

by Sarah Adler

“That’s really . . . Thank you.” She wonders for a moment why he didn’t simply ask her what shampoo and conditioner she usually uses. Maybe he didn’t know he was going to do this until he was actually doing it? Like getting carried along a wave of kindness he had no choice but to ride if he didn’t want to drown beneath it. She pictures him standing in front of the bins of tiny toiletries at the store, unsure how he got there but knowing he can’t leave until he’s gathered a truly ridiculous number of them to give her. The mental image forces her to stifle a smile.

“I promise I’ll try to be useful,” she says, trying to make a joke of this desperate need to assure him this will be worth it. That he isn’t making a mistake loving her. “Why are you always talking about being useful, making yourself useful? Useful, useful, useful,” he says, exhaling in amusement as the word starts sounding like nonsense with repetition. “I’ve never wanted you because you were useful, Gretchen. I want you because you’re you.”