CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gabe abruptly understood why people in movies slammed on the brakes when they were faced with something immensely surprising.
He came very close to doing it in real life and thankfully it wasn’t too hard to keep from actually doing it. Instead, he rolled to a halt at a stoplight and looked at Liz.
“Tell me you aren’t fucking with me.”
She smiled, beamed really. “I’m not fucking with you.”
“Oh, thank God,” he whispered.
She laughed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Perfect. I was actually kind of worried, because this is kind of a big thing to spring on someone, but all the others said they were sure you’d like her. And the fact that she was pregnant.”
“All right...is she single or in a relationship?”
“She’s single. Things...didn’t go well with the previous relationship. From what I understand, he cheated on her. Multiple times. After marrying her and getting her pregnant. Before, too, I guess. Um, don’t mention this.”
The light turned green. They resumed driving.
“Obviously,” Gabe murmured.
He was already distracted by the thought of having sex with a visibly pregnant woman…
“You’re thinking about it, huh?” Liz asked.
“Yes, I am...what does she look like?”
“Not telling. No pic, no descriptions, no nothing. It’s better when you see her for the first time on your own.”
“Like a blind date?”
“Well...half a blind date.”
“Oh, so she knows what I look like?”
“I think that was a fair ask.”
He considered it, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair. She’s risking more than I am.”
“I’m really glad you get that. But trust me, she’s very pretty. She’s also a little shy, and inexperienced with women. She’s kind of like me in reverse. Never been with a woman, but knew she wanted to at least try someday.”
“Nice...what does she think of me?”
Liz giggled. “She thinks you’re pretty hot in that tall, dark, handsome writerly way. She really likes that you’re a writer. Let alone a successful writer.”
“Well...I hope you didn’t lie to her about that. I’m not really a successful writer-”
“Oh, come on, Gabe! You’ve written stories, people purchased and read them, you’re paying your bills with that money. I mean, mostly, you know? You could live off your writing on your own, is the point I’m trying to make.”
“Fair, I guess. You seem really invested in this. I mean, more so than as my fiancee.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to marry you yet…” she murmured, looking amused.
“It’s just how I see it. You moved in with me with the idea that it was going to be a lasting, if not permanent, intimate relationship. Since we can’t really go the ‘traditional’ route of marriage, I figured it counts as being engaged. But if it makes you uncomfortable-”
“No, Gabe! I was just teasing. I’m happy to be called your fiancee. But I’m still expecting a proposal.”
“You’ll get one.”
“What about Krystal? You figured out what you’re gonna do for her? Or when?”
“Uh…” Gabe felt his mind freeze.
Liz gasped loudly. “You’re going to do it on her date day!”
“No! I…” He groaned.
“I won’t tell, I promise! I’m not going to ruin it!
Will you tell me!?” He hesitated further, wincing.
He actually did want to tell her, if only because he was discovering that he really wanted to talk about surprises with other people.
“Come on, babe,” she murmured, reaching out and putting a hand on his thigh.
“Me and Krystal are in love, and I do have more of a right to this kind of thing than anyone else.”
He considered it. She had a point. She was also extremely convincing when she was trying to be.
“All right, fine. But you had better swear not to tell her,” he replied.
“Of course! I don’t want to ruin the surprise! Tell me!”
He laughed. “Okay. So, Krystal wants to take me to a rave at the end of our date day. I’m going to ask her to marry me there.”
“Oh my God!” Liz shrieked. “That’s so cool! She’s going to fucking love that! Can I see the ring?”
“I’m afraid this is where I put my foot down,” Gabe replied as he pulled into their driveway. “That’s between me and Krystal. You can see it after.”
“Mmm…” Liz started at him, looking like she was deciding whether or not to lock in and really push for it.
Then, something seemed to shoot across her expression.
Perhaps it was the realization that this might wander worryingly close to her old bullying tactics, and she relaxed.
“Okay, that’s fair. I do need to respect that you and Krystal have a relationship independent of me. ”
“That’s true, but...how is that going, by the way?”
“Fine, Gabe. I’m not jealous or feeling betrayed or neglected. Nothing like that. I’m happy. I’m worried about some future problem, but isn’t that always true? I’m happy.”
“Okay, good. How about her?”
“She seems fine, but Krystal is also harder to read. Mmm...we need to get that girl started on meds soon…” she murmured.
“Yes, but that’s a conversation for after I do my fucking Valentine’s Week run.”
“Fair.”
“Thank you. Now, let’s get inside and shower. Separately. Because we’ll fuck otherwise.”
She giggled and kissed him. “Yes, we will. So, you go first.”
They got out and headed inside.
…
Showering and prepping for the dinner was a blur of tight focus.
Gabe couldn’t get the idea of a pregnant woman waiting for him, wanting to have sex with him, out of his head.
It was kind of funny, he had no idea what she looked like, except that she was pregnant.
How pregnant? He kept wanting to ask questions, but his attempts while they were getting ready had resulted in amused, slightly teasing stonewalling from Liz.
He had to admit, he really liked this side of her.
Why did he like brats so much?
There was probably some incredibly complex reason, but really, he was just glad that he did. Because holy shit was it fun.
“Okay, can you at least tell me how you know her? Or who it is that knows her? Or did you just find her?” he asked, unable to contain himself any longer as he followed the GPS to the restaurant. It was pretty fancy.
Or, well, for him at least.
Around them, the city was making its slow descent into twilight. By the time they were driving back, it would be full dark, and it seemed like the clouds were coming in. He’d been hoping for more rain, but worried about snow.
Thankfully, according to his obsessive checking of the weather over the past few days, it wasn’t going to get below forty anytime soon.
Of course, that was the weather. He knew how predictable that was.
“Yes, I can at least throw you that bone,” she replied with that self-satisfied smirk she’d been wearing most of the day now.
“I’ll fucking throw a bone at you,” he muttered.
“More like into me...anyway, I knew her. She used to live in the city me and Krystal were living in. She had already worked a couple of years at my boring data entry job when I started. We became friends, but ultimately she moved…” She frowned.
“What?”
“Just thinking of her loser husband. I don’t know what it is about some women...
or I guess, some people, who just cannot see that they have an obviously bad partner.
Every time I saw the guy, he was always staring at other women or making creepy or cruel jokes, and he didn’t...
he never...he wouldn’t protect her dignity. ”
“Oh. Wow. Man. That’s...pretty bad, yeah.”
“So you get what I mean when I say that!?” she asked with sudden vigor, turning to look at him.
“I mean, I sure think so. Why?”
“It’s just-so many people don’t seem to grasp this concept!
But the amount of people I’ve seen who were embarrassing their significant other in public, and in a way that you can tell they know they’re doing it.
That’s just so fucking...cruel! Like it’s one thing if you’re telling an embarrassing story to close friends with your partner’s permission, but not if you’re recalling the time they got so sick they shit themselves in bed. ”
“Jesus. That’s...yeah. That’s fucked up.
And I’ve seen it, too. I think it’s because too many people think that’s how a relationship is supposed to be.
Like, they just shrug and say ‘hey, everyone hates their partner sometimes’, you know?
I also think there’s an escalation factor.
One person does something to embarrass the other, and most people aren’t going to take that lying down, so they do it back, and on and on. ”
“You shouldn’t hate your partner, Jesus,” Liz muttered. “I’m so glad that what we all have is so healthy. You know, Ellen says its your fault.”
He laughed. “My fault?”
“Yes. I was mentioning this, how emotionally mature, intelligent, and healthy our huge relationship seems to be, and Ellen said it was all you.”
“Definitely not all me.”
“No, but you started it. Think about it. Think about each of us as we were when we came to you. Think about how many things you set in front of us and patiently explained, in a way that made sense to us, how it was actually fucked up. Ellen and her relationships. Holly and her family. Krystal and Chloe about their mental health. And then you gently pushed all of them towards a healthier, happier outcome. That is...absurdly loving.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me what?”
“What have I put in front of you?”
Liz opened her mouth, then hesitated, then frowned.
“I guess...I can’t quite think of anything.
Although maybe that’s because it’s too soon.
The issue, not that it’s actually an issue, is that I’ve already done a lot of my own internal work.
Maybe you’ve helped me finally lay to rest my...
bullying past, certainly I feel better now that you know that...
I guess it’s probably nice to have at least one girl in your life who doesn’t have a lot of mental instability. ”
Gabe looked over at her. Her eyes widened abruptly and she actually covered her mouth. “Oh fuck! That was so mean! I didn’t mean to be mean! Please don’t tell them I said that.”
“I won’t, Liz. And...I get it. I mean, it’s a valid point. And...it does take its toll.”
“I know, but I don’t want to talk shit about Krystal behind her back! Or Ellen or Chloe or Holly! I mean, anyone! But...yeah.”
They had made it about two thirds of the way there. It was already darkening. He forgot how fast the sun set in winter.
Thank God winter wasn’t all that far from dying off yet again.
“It’s okay to talk about it a little, Liz.
I mean, yes, protect Krystal’s dignity, but...
it’s okay to vent occasionally about your partner.
It’s never going to be perfect. It’s going to be fucking frustrating and infuriating and depressing and anxiety-producing, and that causes pressure to build up.
You should have at least one person you can trust to talk with about this stuff. ”
“You want me to talk about it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay...but you have to do it, too.”
“All right, but I feel like it won’t be fair.”
“How?”
“You’ve been with Krystal for years. I’ve been with everyone for three months, hell, less than that depending on who it is. I’m still in the honeymoon phase...but yes, I will, if it will make you feel better.”
“I’m hoping it’d make you feel better.”
“It probably would. It feels good to express frustration at a situation and have another person validate that. Even if only because it’s a sanity check.”
“All right...man, still feels weird. But whatever.” She opened her mouth, then paused.
“I guess maybe this would be helpful to you, too. On a practical level. I can sort of prep you for what to expect from Krystal. Although, to be honest, I’m hoping that we manage to get her help before the honeymoon/happy chemicals from moving fade away.
But...back when we were trying to move, and she flipped out and just started walking away from the car, that’s more common than you think.
She just...snaps. And sometimes there’s warnings, but sometimes there aren’t.
And I know that it’s her mental health problems, just...
I wish she could keep a better lid on it. ”
“It’s because her brain didn’t form right,” Gabe said.
Liz glanced over at him, startled. “What?”
He paused, then sighed. “I’ve been doing more research on ADHD stuff.
I’m convinced she has it. And a thing that causes it to happen is that the brain doesn’t form right.
I can’t remember the technical terms, but basically, one big thing that happens is: there’s a part of your brain where your emotions come from, or, I guess, more specifically, your emotional responses to things.
Now, what’s supposed to be attached to this part is basically a filter.
The emotion comes out hard, and then it passes through the filter immediately and a ton of it burns off. And for Krystal, there is no filter.”
“Oh...my God,” she murmured. “That actually makes a lot of sense. She just gets so pissed about things, or so excited...why is it so hard for her to do stuff?”
“Short answer is: the brain doesn’t make enough dopamine, which is basically a reward chemical that’s suppose to release when you succeed at things.
Imagine, from birth, you succeed at something and just...
feel nothing. You don’t feel joy, or pride, or anything really.
You understand, eventually, that it’s cool, but there is no comparing understanding you are supposed to feel happy and actually feeling happy. ”
“That is...incredibly horrifying. Jesus,” she whispered. “Oh! This is why she hates exercise so much! If there’s never any emotional reward for doing it, then it’s just...suffering. And she wouldn’t stick to it because why would she if it’s just nonstop suffering for no obvious reward.”
“Exactly. There’s a lot of stuff, a ton of little side effects, that you wouldn’t consider. It manifests in so many ways. But it also causes anxiety and depression.”
“That makes sense...shit, now I feel bad complaining about her.”
“I get that. I would, too. Mental health and relationships combined is just...an extremely complex topic.”
“Yeah…”
The conversation began drifting off after that, but thankfully, they were saved from awkwardly trying to rekindle it as they pulled into the parking lot.