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a different life 285 Widow’s Lament Valerie Kockelman “What do you want?” she asked, when I told her I am lonely now that my husband is dead. “I’d like to be married again,” I said. I want someone to call me in the afternoon, around three, to say: “What’s new, and How you doin,’ kid, Did you read the Chronicle and what the President said? And do you need me to pick something up? OK—some ice cream and bread.” In the afternoon, around three. So, what do I want? I want someone to tell me that what I said at that party was slightly imprudent, but, it hit the nail on the head, and what the hell... Someone who is so wild about me that he declared I was the best-dressed woman there; didn’t I think so, too? Someone who respects me so much that he insists I tell him how to vote on those complicated California Propositions. Someone to rub up against me, furtively, while we’re standing in the kitchen, Someone to grope in my direction as my back and cold feet touch his at bedtime. 286 the widows’ handbook Most of all, I want my eyes to light up again, in the afternoon, when the phone rings, around three. ...

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