Chapter 40 #2
You shrug and say it’s not your decision, but the answer is probably no.
Too dark, too rare. Now you’re psychoanalyzing him and talking to me about those days after September 11, when he was crushed, confronting the reality that he would never be a father, not the old-fashioned way.
And even though I knew you were with him, it doesn’t exactly feel good to have this fresh fucking image.
The two of you walking and talking your way through the city while I was in the basement of a bookstore.
And it’s hard, Vail. It is hard for me to leave the AOL IMs where they are, in the computer.
Hard for me to accept that I only saw part of the conversation.
Maybe I’m stupid or maybe stupid is code for young or male or Joe, but somehow I never let myself go there.
You and Dick did what we do. You hung out together. Ick.
“Oh, Joe, if you could’ve known him the way I did, the real him…
I tried so hard to lift his spirits, you know?
And sometimes I made him come around. I would be like, ‘Well, what if you met a girl and she couldn’t bear children?
’ And he’d be like, ‘We’d adopt. I wouldn’t care.
’ And I’d be like, ‘Okay, this is no different, your issue.’ But then you know how it is.
He’d get with some girl and turn into the same old douche, push her away before he let her get close.
I showed him my foot. I…Remember when I came in and bought Everyone Poops? ”
“Of course.”
“Dick couldn’t accept himself. So ashamed, so self-conscious, and like…Why?”
You didn’t give that book to your cousin. You gave it to him. “You’re a good person.”
“No.” And you smile at the floor. “Is this too much? Am I making you uncomfortable or anything?”
Yes. “Of course not.”
“Thank you because talking like this with you…it helps. So many memories…Oh God, this one time, early on…he left his brother’s dog tags at my place, I wore them to work and…Never mind. It’s too embarrassing.”
Did you find out they’re fake? Do I tell you they’re fake? No. A body in motion is meant to stay in motion. I nudge you. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, but it is. I mean, he left before I was up and I find them in my bathroom. I squealed…Oh, I squealed. I put them on. Pranced around at work like he was my boyfriend…And halfway through the day he calls, which is a miracle. Usually after we hook up he disappears for a few days…. Anyway, he invites me to dinner with his parents and…This is it.”
We will never have dinner with my parents, but I can come inside of you. “Okay.”
“He says coffee shop at seven and I’m there at six fifty-nine, and he’s outside waiting. I’m fluttering. It’s so romantic, we’re getting serious and then…he just wants his dog tags.”
Asshole. “Shit.”
“I told you it was bad!”
The only thing keeping me alive is your laughter. Tragedy plus murder equals survival. I’ll get through this. I will. “Eh, it’s cute. You’re cute, and he could be a real fucking asshole.”
“No, Joe, he wasn’t a bad guy. We were babies. We just didn’t know it.”
You were a baby, and he was an asshole. But now is now. “You hungry?”
You touch your chest. “And then he wants me back, he’s sending me the flowers and begging me for another chance…Total puppy dog mode. Remember that night we all went to the Indian place? Oh, the guilt…Also side note. I love how we can talk about anything, you know?”
Not really, Vail, and wait. Guilt? “I thought you were mad at me about my flannel.”
“Oh, right, yeah, but beyond that…mostly I felt so bad being with you because, well, he was sort of obsessed with me. The drugs and the girls…I think he was just nursing a broken heart, you know? A little bit too sensitive for this planet, I guess.”
I’M THE SENSITIVE ONE, YOU DUMMY. “I can see that, I think.”
“So there I was with you…you can make all the babies in the world. I felt so bad for him…. You got sick and after you left…oh, he begged me to go home with him….” I am in awe of you, Vail.
Do you believe the horseshit that flows out of your mouth?
Is there a Wonderbra strapped around your brain?
I know why you rewrite history. You want me to see you as a lovable princess.
Same way you told Dick that I was the one chasing you.
I can’t believe you are lying to yourself at this level.
And for me now! It is progress and I accept you for the nervous little liar that you are.
I love all of you. Unlike some people. You can show me yours all day long, build a world where Dick worshipped you in full.
But I will never show you mine. I got my stuff.
I killed a guy. I’m a sap. Gullible and forgiving. But my flaws are my business.
I think that’s called compromise.
“Anyway, Joe. I’m sorry. I’ll stop going on about him. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s okay. You had it bottled up and you’re getting it off your chest.”
And soon we’ll never speak of the motherfucker again.
You’re crying again. This time, it is a good thing.
A bye-bye-bye style cry. You’re scared that I won’t love you just because he didn’t love you.
There’s nothing to worry about, not anymore.
I am the man, your man. I can give you children and pearl necklaces until the cows come home.
And who knows? Maybe he was honest with you.
Maybe he didn’t jizz. I don’t care. He is gone.
He was using you, and I was right to remove him from the equation.
You are not a therapist and you are not his sister or his mother. You are mine, all mine.
You pull away. Oops. My Portnoy got excited. “Not now. Not yet, okay?”
“Sorry. It just happened.”
“I am not ready for that.”
“I know.”
You yawn. You want to take a shower and change into something cozy. I do not ask if you want company.
“I’m pretty fucked-up, Joe.”
“Me too, Vail. It’s what you say to me.” And Dick, grr. “Everyone poops.”
You leave to wash up with a singsongy I love you.
I me too you and I sit in your chair by the window.
There’s a lesson in here, Vail. Dick had the chance to be honest with me, to tell me what he told you (if it was true).
The more I sit with it, the more the no-jizz thing feels like the truth.
It does explain a lot. Would I have killed him if he came clean?
I tried. I asked him why he’s fucked-up about women.
If he told me the real reason he’s scared of love…
There’s the lesson. Speak the truth, or a lie can kill you.
Soon, you come back to me. Better now. Clean. All cozied up in…Oh fuck.
You’re wearing my shitty black sweatpants, my murder pants.
Your hands are in your pockets, my pockets. Your lower lip trembles and the city doesn’t quit. Sirens and Jane’s Addiction from a scratchy car radio and a hot dog cart with a bad fucking wheel. Jane says, “I’m done with Sergio; he treats me like a rag doll.”
“Vail…”
I don’t finish my sentence. I can’t. You’ve got one hand in your pocket and here comes the other hand and it’s holding Dick’s dog tags.