Requiem for a Realtor Read Online Free PDF

married.”
    Stanley never took off his wedding band. It was a superstition. He felt that if he took off the ring, the legal paper that bound him to Phyllis would shrivel, grow yellow, dissolve into dust.
    â€œNot in the Church.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œA civil ceremony.”
    â€œAny kids?”
    â€œNo.”
    Why did his life suddenly seem a string of empty events, the stupid military school, Marquette, his partnership with George Sawyer? Even Wanda seemed to find it sad, no matter the interest she showed. He almost told her he would inherit a bundle when he was fifty. He did tell her, later, when his visits became a ritual, weekly at least.
    â€œThis is good wine.”
    â€œIt’s from the supermarket.”
    â€œActually I don’t like white wine.”
    â€œSo I’ll buy some red.” Already it was clear this wasn’t a chat between a Realtor and a client.
    â€œThere were Collinses who lived on Lincoln Avenue.”
    â€œThat was us.”
    â€œFunny we never knew one another.”
    â€œWell, now we do.”
    â€œNow we do.”
    â€œWanda, there’s nothing wrong with this apartment.”
    â€œWho said there was?”
    â€œSo why are you looking for another?”
    â€œDo you always believe what you’re told?”
    In the bedroom, there was a print of a Renaissance Madonna on the wall, and behind it more palm.
    â€œYou still go to Mass?” With the drapes pulled and the mild glow of wine, afterward they would lie in her bed for hours and talk about anything.
    â€œNot as much as I should.”
    â€œI don’t go at all.”
    Maybe it was the fact that they had both grown up in St. Hilary’s, but religion became a frequent topic. And after Phyllis had told him what she had learned about Church law, Stanley naturally talked it over with Wanda.
    â€œIf that’s true, I’m as much married to you as I am to Phyllis.”
    â€œIf it’s possible for her, it’s possible for you.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œNow what could I possibly mean?”
    Stanley knew a sudden panic. One thing about a wedding band, it prevented things going beyond a roll in the hay, no matter how frequent. He liked Wanda, he really did, and he had become used to their afternoons together. When he listened to her sing at the club it was not just imagination that she was directing all those steamy ballads to him. When George Sawyer fell off his most recent diet and came along, he noticed that Wanda treated Stanley like a lover. Stanley denied it in a way that made it clear it was a gentleman’s denial.
    â€œYou could go to Mass again,” Wanda said.
    He had told her, half sincerely, that he missed the religion that he had lost, but his marriage had cut him off from it.
    â€œYou could receive Communion.”
    She might as well have been proposing to him. Let Phyllis marry that bastard Jameson, and he and Wanda could stand before the altar at St. Hilary’s while Father Dowling said the nuptial Mass.
    He sat up on the edge of the bed, anxious to get out of there. It was one thing to be enraged by what Phyllis had said, to feel that his wife was betraying him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pull such a stunt himself. Not with Wanda, not with anybody.
    â€œWanda, I am as married as I’ll ever be.”
    â€œEven if she leaves you?”
    â€œShe won’t.”
    They were both out of bed now, and Wanda pulled on her colorful muumuu. Stanley was getting dressed. By the time he was in the living room, he had made up his mind.
    â€œI am going to stop giving her any reason to leave me.”
    â€œAnd I’m the reason.”
    â€œI told you what she said.”
    â€œGet out of here.”
    â€œNow, Wanda…”
    â€œGo, you sonofabitch. I mean it. I’ll be damned if I’ll provide your wife with a reason to leave you. Stay with her. You deserve one another.”
    â€œWanda, you