Mourning Glory Read Online Free PDF Page A

on the choices, although
the sixties would be better. You run into protective relatives when you go
higher in age. And they need less of what a woman has to offer. They figure you
are only after that person's money."
    "Isn't that the purpose of the exercise?"
    "I'm talking time here, Grace. Under seventy-five the
lure is still there." Mrs. Burns winked.
    "You sound like you've made a thorough study of the
subject."
    "I have. I found one."
    "Mr. Burns?"
    "I followed the formula. It is the best advice you
will ever get in your life."
    "Then why do you have to work?"
    She felt compelled to keep the interrogation going. It
struck her that perhaps she was not being fired at all. Perhaps Mrs. Burns had
gone crazy and this interview was simply the babbling of a diseased mind.
    "I don't. I need the stimulation and sense of
accomplishment. Mr. Burns is very old now."
    "How long have you been married?"
    "Fifteen years. He was sixty-five at the time. Except
for longevity, he was the perfect choice."
    "How so?"
    "He was Jewish. I'm an Episcopalian."
    "Why Jewish?" Grace asked, mesmerized by the
conversation. Am I really buying this? she wondered.
    "Their mothers worshipped them. Because of this, they
are addicted to mothering. And they are very good to their wives, particularly
their second wives, especially if they are shiksas, like you and me ...
not Jewish. I think they see us as the forbidden fruit. That's why I'm
emphasizing sex. And ... I hope this doesn't sound anti-Semitic, but maybe
their circumcisions have made them more sensitive to pleasure. Who knows? Many
of them have been starved in that department by their first wives. Frankly, I
don't know why this is true, but I believe it is. To them a good shtup is a mitzvah, a gift from God. These attitudes make them more
vulnerable. Of course, I'm not counting out any racial or religious persuasion
as a possibility. I can only give you the benefit of my own experience."
    Grace was confused, not only by Mrs. Burns's advice, but by
her own weird interest in it. She found herself actually contemplating the idea
in the light of her own situation, her own dismal reality. How could she, a
nobody from the lower classes, an obvious loser, come in contact with such
people. Multimillionaires. Jews. They weren't exactly in her circle. It struck
her finally that Mrs. Burns was teasing her, getting her jollies by putting a
sinister spin on the act of termination.
    "Am I really being fired?" Grace asked suddenly,
not without optimism.
    "Afraid so."
    "Then this is a very strange exit interview, Mrs.
Burns," Grace said. "I don't appreciate it at all. I feel as if I'm
some object of ridicule and I'm pretty pissed off. Is it in lieu of
severance?"
    "Not in lieu of, Grace. Although the advice I offer is
more precious than coin." She took a paper from a pile on her desk and
slid it across to Grace.
    "What is that?"
    "It is a release form. Sign it and you will receive
two months' severance pay based on your year's best salary. In this
case..." She glanced at the paper. "Two thousand two hundred a month.
Comes to four thousand four hundred dollars. Very generous, I must say."
    "Blood money," Grace said. "To protect you
from litigation."
    "Your choice, dear," Mrs. Burns said. "We
have lawyers on retainer."
    "Do I also lose my employee discount?" Grace
asked, thinking of her promise to Jackie.
    "When you are no longer an employee, you no longer
have an employee discount."
    Furious, Grace scribbled her name on the paper, and Mrs.
Burns opened a drawer and handed her a check already cut for the amount
mentioned. Grace studied the check for a moment, as if to illustrate her
distrust, then stood up.
    "It's an unfair world, Grace," Mrs. Burns said.
"Nevertheless, if Mrs. Milton-Dennison should take her business elsewhere
or die, believe me I can make a firm commitment at this moment to give you back
your job."
    "You are one cold-blooded bitch, Mrs. Burns,"
Grace said. They exchanged glances, and after a moment