Love's Illusions: A Novel

by Cazzola, Jolene

  By the time Christmas Day arrived, I had smoked almost all the pot, finishing it off while taking Satchamo for a walk before leaving for Aunt Martha’s house. Once there, I spewed off the bullshit story about Stephen’s whereabouts to my mother’s satisfaction though no one seemed to give a shit. They were treating me like they treated my father: I was there, but not worth being concerned with – this was the first time I had gotten that reception, Cool! I thought. Each of them seemed to have their own more important concerns, like why the banana bread had turned out dry, did we have enough creamed onions or should they open another jar, or which of my younger cousins was going to grow up to be a lawyer, and earn all kinds of money. I amused myself by wondering which of the cousins would grow up to be a junkie or a waitress at the local diner (these kids were nowhere near the perfect angels their parents thought), and prayed for the day to be over as soon as possible. Once it was, I had only two more days to get through before leaving again for Chicago.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Round two with my parents came the next day. Christmas had been on a Saturday so of course, I was expected to go to church with my mother again the following morning. She was Lutheran. My father almost never went to church; as a child I was envious of his permission to stay home, and longed for the day I could do the same thing. The more my mother pushed religion on me, the more I balked. After suffering through confirmation classes, I announced I was an atheist or agnostic or Buddhist – she could take her pick – but I refused to be Lutheran. She was horrified, and I was promptly hauled off to every church event she could find. My mother was mistrustful of anyone other than Lutherans, or at least Protestants, especially anyone who was Catholic, telling me all the time that I should make sure I never married one because they would insist that the children be brought up in the Catholic faith. Stephen fulfilled this requirement: his family was Episcopalian, although in reality, they were nothing.

  We had to drive past a large Catholic church on our way to the Lutheran church, and the resulting traffic jam never failed to piss her off because we were always ‘running late.’ One time I pointed out that the same traffic problem was happening in front of her church, and was told, in no uncertain terms, that I was wrong – it was different. This morning was no exception. I quietly looked out the window digging my fingers into the arm rest on the front door as she became frustrated at the Catholics… You leave in the morning; just keep your big mouth shut I told myself over and over!

  That afternoon over a dinner of baked stuffed pork chops, green beans, and mashed potatoes – they brought up the subject of my marriage again. Since I didn’t want a reenactment of all the shit from our last ‘discussion’, I just sat and listened. This time I was straight – no pot or pixie to help me get through it, just me. They loved me; they did what they thought was best for me; I had to try again; I couldn’t just walk away; they were sure Stephen loved me too; maybe he had made some mistakes; maybe I had made mistakes, but if we tried, they could be fixed; I had to talk to him; I had to pull myself up by the boot straps; but above all, I had to stop acting crazy – someone would lock me up. When it was over, I took Satchamo for a long walk in the cold and went to bed early.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It’s Over

  Mary Beth and I drove straight through. Snow and ice be damned, both of us had had our fill of family and wanted nothing more than to be back in Chicago. I had contacted Michael from a truck stop letting him know about when we’d arrive. He would be waiting for me at The Canteen, and would come to the apartment as soon as I called letting him know I was home. Rick answered – I heard him call across the bar, “Hey, Mike, she’s back – time to go get laid!” causing a clamor of laughter in the background. Shaking my head as I felt myself flush red, I yelled into the receiver, “Give the phone to Michael,” but Rick just kept laughing saying, “Mike just gave me the finger – he’ll be there soon. I’m glad you’re back Jackie.”

  Hanging up the phone, I raced into my bathroom, brushed my teeth and hair, ran a wet washcloth over my armpits, put on deodorant, a quick touch up of my makeup, and then ran to the bedroom pulling clothes off as I moved through the hall, to put on the black negligee, and then put Bob Dylan ‘s”Lay Lady Lay” album on the stereo. It wouldn’t take him long to walk three blocks; I had seen the Mustang parked on the street by the apartment when I was driving around looking for a parking space – smiling to myself I thought, He planned ahead. I was right: he was there in what seemed like a heartbeat. I jumped into his arms when I opened the door, feeling safe again with him wrapped around me – his lips kissing me so lovingly that it touched me in my soul.

  He pulled back for a moment, stood me up, ripping off his navy blue down jacket and ski cap, throwing them on the floor, never moving his eyes from mine. The longing between us was palpable, and I felt that same surge of attraction that brought us together when we first met. We had not been apart for more than two or three days since beginning whatever this relationship was this past summer. The air filled with desire as he moved forward pinning me against the hallway wall. “God I’ve missed you,” he murmured in my ear biting the lobe and kissing my neck; his breath was warm, and I squirmed under his touch pushing his hips back enough for my hands to release his belt buckle, starting to lower his jeans. “Ahhh” he moaned.

  In one swift move he helped me push down his pants, hiked up the skirt of the negligee, grabbed both of my arms forcing them over my head against the wall while he frantically kissed my entire face, and neck, and pushed forcefully inside me. I had been gasping and holding my breath, but feeling him enter me, and move inside me, I melted almost immediately. He felt my body give way to his. With a few hard thrusts he joined me, my arms still pinned to the wall over my head, his full body weight leaning against me. We stayed coupled that way, both of us overcome, our breathing slowing, synchronizing as he allowed my arms to drop. Pushing his weight back, a huge mischievous grin crossed his face, reaching for his jeans, pulling them up, but leaving them unzipped. “Hi… did you have a good trip?”

  My eyes glistening with a combination of delight and tears, I pulled him in towards me again, hugging him. “No, but it’s okay now.”

  We spent the rest of the night talking, but not until I made an adjustment to my attire. “I can’t concentrate with you looking like that,” he said. “I never thought you’d answer the door wearing it. What would Gloria Steinem say?”

  “Nothing I want to hear right now,” I responded wandering off into the bedroom, coming back with a baggy sweatshirt pulled over the negligee. “How’s this for a compromise?” I asked.

  ~~~~~~~~

  I relayed the events of the trip in almost excruciating detail. “It was horrible. They don’t understand…We fought just like we used to when I lived there. But they backed down when I told them I was never coming back to that house again.”

  Taking another piece of pizza from the box that had been delivered a few minutes earlier, he said, “They’re your parents Jackie; never speaking to them again isn’t the answer. You have to tell the ‘whole’ truth. You didn’t tell them about him being in the hospital or what caused it, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Diverting my eyes, I said, “I don’t know. I just couldn’t tell them that – I didn’t want to hurt them that much, I guess.”

  “That’s bullshit… it’s Stephen you’re protecting, not your parents. So instead you let them think he might have just made a mistake – that there was a chance you’d go back to him? Seriously? You’re seriously going to try to patch up your marriage?”

  I felt defensive all of a sudden, shit I don’t want this to turn into an argument, I thought. “But I do have to talk to Stephen sometime, you know that. And I’m not going to… to lose everything by refusing to try.”

  “What do you mean ‘lose everything’?”

  “Shit Michael, think about it! They pay my rent, my tuition, I have their car… I can’t fuckin�
� support myself without their help! I had to agree to try!” I blurted out, my voice sounding like it would snap in pieces as I jumped up from the table.

  “Money? You’re telling me you did it for money? No, I don’t believe that – you did it because you’re still trying to protect him! You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed, and for some screwed up reason, you think it’s your fault… which it isn’t… but your head is so fucked up you’re not thinking straight. Do you think a woman that forced a man to go gay would have greeted me the way you just did? Well, do you? Goddamn it – you have to stop protecting him! This wasn’t your fault. He’s the faggot… not you!”

  I slumped back down into my chair, my head in my hands. “Please don’t… don’t call him that.” My eyes flashed up to meet his.

  He was angry, I could see it written all over his face as he said, “You may not like the word ‘faggot’ but that’s exactly what he is, and nothing you can say or do is going to change it.”

  “I’m going to go talk to him as soon as possible. I know he’s not coming back and…” Michael started to break in, but I held my hand up to stop him, “…and I don’t want to go back to the life I had with him. I know it was a lie from the start – everyone is not lying to me. I just told you what Ronnie said when Mary Beth and I saw him in Cambridge. I’m not going back to Stephen. My parents are wrong, and I’ll not let them push me into staying married; they’ll just have to tell the relatives I screwed it up. But I do need to settle things. All I want at this point is for him to tell me the truth.”

  Michael studied my face. I picked up a slice of pizza and swallowed hard, silence falling between us.

  “If you see him, he’s just gonna hurt you again… you know that don’t you?” he said. “He’s not going to say anything you think you need to hear.”

  “Maybe not, but I have to try. You’re right. There’s part of me that does think… no knows… that I played a role in this mess. He was my first real love and… I guess I need to know that at least some part of it was real.”

  Looking at Michael, I felt lost and exhausted – all I wanted at that moment was sleep, preferably with his shoulder as my pillow – so before the conversation could turn sour again or go off in a direction I couldn’t handle, I pulled the oversized sweatshirt off, rounded the table and stood between his legs, pulling his head close to rest against my breast. “Just give me a little more time, and trust me, okay?”

  “Okay,” he answered not moving his head. But a little edge in his voice told me this conversation was not over. There was something more going on inside his head, something more he needed to say.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Joe lived in Old Town in a fabulous old renovated brownstone. I had been there many times before with Stephen for parties or when we were invited to dinner – before our life together ended. Stephen and I had lived in Old Town our first year in Chicago before getting married. I had thought we were happy then, but now I wondered. Old Town, it seemed, was a section of the city that had a high concentration of gay guys – maybe us being good there was all in my imagination. What was going on then that I never noticed, and why didn’t I see it, I wondered?

  A couple weeks after New Year’s I found myself ringing the bell at Joe’s home. “Hello Joe, I need to talk to Stephen,” I said without any pretext or nice chit chat, as I stepped inside. He was surprised, put off maybe, but said, “Come on in Jackie.”

  “I am in,” I replied matching his smugness.

  “Stephen,” he yelled out, “you have a visitor.”

  Stephen appeared from the other room, standing, dead still, in the doorway. Joe’s eyes darted back and forth between us saying, “Well this is awkward – I’ll leave you two to talk.” Then turning to me, wagging his finger, and shaking his head, he said, “Don’t break anything Jackie.” I nodded in agreement, not moving my eyes from Stephen.

  Stephen made his way over to one of the couches, indicating I should sit across from him on another one. I did, still not speaking. We stared at each other for a few minutes before Stephen said, “Why are you here, Jack? You never came back to the hospital, so I figured you were mad at me.”

  “I was mad… How are you by the way?” I replied.

  “I’m fine, completely recovered. What do you want?”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it. I want the truth, Stephen.”

  He was silent for a moment watching me and then asked, “The truth about what?”

  “Stop it. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I want the truth about us – from the beginning.”

  “What do you mean ‘about us from the beginning’?”

  “Goddamn it Stephen, stop being so obtuse and answer me. I deserve that much, and I’m not going anywhere until you do talk, so you might as well get it over with.” My lips tightened, and I felt a tension run through my body that made me feel like my shoulders would shatter at the slightest touch.

  “I should be the one asking you those questions, but I’ve respected your privacy and let you go,” he replied in a sincere tone.

  I shook my head trying to understand what was happening, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about, trying to stay calm, but it was no use. My eyes grew big, the tension in my shoulders spread throughout by body, and I hit my boiling point, “What!?!” I exclaimed, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You’re the one who walked out, and moved in with that bitch Mary Beth. She’s always hated me you know that, don’t you? And when I needed you at the hospital, you never even came back!” he shouted at me as if I had somehow wronged him and he was the hurt, injured party.

  “Oh my God – I don’t believe I’m hearing this – you’re twisting everything!” I hissed. “You decided you were gay; you’re the one who was cheating on me – with men! You left Chicago, and then continued to have affairs with men while you were in Boston. I know that because Ronnie told me, and he told me that you got the money for those fancy gifts in high school from some old guy you were screwing back then, that I was nothing more than a cover story for you so you wouldn’t have to admit what you were!” I was on my feet screaming at him, “I’m not going to let you twist everything around – I’m not, I’m not!”

  “Ronnie is a lying faggot, who’s just trying to get back at me because I wouldn’t have sex with him…”

  “Right, everyone is lying except you Stephen… Is that it? The whole world is lying and I’m supposed to believe you, right? You fucking ended up in the hospital with anal fistulas because of getting butt fucked or am I wrong about that too? Wait a minute, no, the nurse was lying… Did she want to get back at you for something too, is that it?”

  Stephen had stood up, and was heading towards the door. I whirled around on my heels, advancing towards him, getting within a few inches of his face. I was livid, my face was red. All I could feel was anger and rage pouring out of me, my hands clinching into fists at my side, nails digging into my palms as I planted myself in front of him. He started to turn again - I reached out and touched his arm. Before I knew what was happening, Stephen had slapped me, hard, across the face catching the corner of my right eye with a ring he was wearing. I felt the sting of it as it cut my skin. I stumbled back, in absolute shock; he had never done anything like that before. He was yelling that he wasn’t gay; he had fallen off a ladder; I had no right to accuse him of anything; all those people were just against him… that I sounded just like his friggin’ mother, and it was all my fault… The words blurred in my head.

  Holding the side of my face I raised my head and saw Joe coming towards me. I flinched, but then realized that he was taking my shoulders to help me sit down. Glaring at Stephen, Joe yelled at him to go to the kitchen, get him a damp wash cloth, and a bag of peas from the freezer so my eye wouldn’t swell up like a balloon. Stephen didn’t move. “Fine, then sit down and I’ll go get it,” Joe exclaimed stomping off through the swinging kitchen door as Stephen lowered himself back onto the other couch.

  “I’m
sorry Jackie, I didn’t mean…”

  “Shut up you motherfucker – just shut up and stay away from me!”

  I sat there more or less in shock, slowly reaching up, touching the corner of my eye, and saw blood on my fingertips. I felt my temper overtaking me; I was about to scream at him again when Joe came back with a cool cloth telling me to lean back while he dabbed at the small cut. “Oh, that’s not bad at all,” he said his voice steady, “It’ll be gone soon, it’s not deep.” Handing me a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel he said, “Here, just hold this against your face for a while – you’ll feel better in no time at all.” He put the peas in my hand, raising my arm until the cold pack was covering the right side of my face. His hand lingered on mine, waiting until he felt my surge of anger dissipate some.

  “Thanks, Joe, I’ll be fine,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah, well, I know you will. Look… I heard what was goin’ on in here. Sorry, I hated to eavesdrop, but I didn’t want to go far in case you decided to start throwing things,” Joe said looking at me. Then turning to Stephen, “This can’t keep going on. You knew this day would come… you need to end it.”

  Stephen’s daze seemed to snap at Joe’s words; we had been staring at each other, but he now focused on Joe. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And right now the only thing I want is to get the fuck away from her.” His fist hit the arm of the couch as he stood up and stomped out of the room. Joe was yelling at him to sit back down, but it was no use – he was gone.