He was in his study in their Baltimore apartment. They also used it as a storage room. It had no door, just a door-sized space to walk through. He’s not being clear because it’s not easy to picture. To get in and out of this small room, which once could have been the maid’s room in this big apartment — three bedrooms, separate living and dining rooms, large kitchen leading to his study — you walked through an opening the size and shape of a door. There was probably once a real door there — in fact, he knows it, since the marks where its hinges and screws had been were still on the jamb — but there wasn’t one now to open and close; just an open space. Oh, he gives up. Why can’t he come even close to describing it? Maybe not enough sleep. Gwen knocked on the wall outside his room, or maybe the jamb. He was typing, his back to her, and was startled by the noise. “I’m sorry,” she said; “didn’t mean to scare you. I have some good news that I don’t think you’ll entirely like. I just got a call—” “The phone rang?” he said. “I was so absorbed in my work I didn’t even hear it.” “Am I disturbing you then? I can tell you later,” and he said “No, go on. You got a call from whom?” “Someone at the NEA. She said I got a fellowship in translation.” “Oh, my goodness,” he said, “that’s great,” and stood up, almost knocking over his chair as he did, and went over to her and hugged her. “Jesus, you really did it. I’m so happy for you. But why would you think—” “Because you didn’t get the one you applied for.” “How do you know?” and she said “I asked the person who called me — an official there — if my husband, who also applied for one this year, got it in fiction. She checked the list of this year’s winners in everything, said she didn’t think she was supposed to be doing this — revealing other names — and your name wasn’t on it.” “So what?” he said. “I love it that you got one. You deserve it.” “You deserve one to. And you’ve applied five years straight, or something, while I only applied this once and mostly because you urged me to. I’m sure I got it because so few translators apply. And it could be they don’t give it the same year to husband and wife applicants, even if they’re in different fields, and if I hadn’t got mine, you would have got one,” and he said “Nonsense. How would they even know we’re married? We’ve different surnames.” “But the same address and apartment number.” “I’m sure they don’t look at the addresses very carefully,” and she said “They do. What state the applicant’s from and what city. I heard they try to spread the fellowships around the country so no state or city seems favored.” “Please,” he said, “you got it because you earned it, and the panel of judges for translations was probably the most selective one, since they really had to know what they were doing.” “I wanted you to get it more than I,” and he said “Same for me with you. But I get lots of things. Nothing as big as an NEA yet, but I’m in a field where more things are given for it than for translation. I’ll just apply again, that’s all. My sweetheart, I’m so proud of you, and it’s so much money. Baby asleep?” and she said “Yes.” “Let’s get her up and tell her.” “No, let her sleep.” “You’re so modest.” “And you can be so silly sometimes.” “Should we celebrate with a glass of wine?” and she said “Too early. I’m still working.” “The news of the fellowship doesn’t stop you for even a few hours?” and she said “This is for school.” “Then dinner tonight at a good restaurant and with good wine.” “No, I’ve already prepared dinner. You’re being very nice about it, Martin.” “You still don’t know how happy I am for you?” “You’re not even a little bit jealous or bitter?” and he said “What a thing to say.”
