“If it makes you feel better sure I can tell you that, and I would gladly tell you anything if it makes you feel better however my telling you so would not be the truth.”
“Now there is the caveat,” says Alex sadly conceding, “it simply would not be true.”
Chapter 33
The fellows’ bout of melancholy is deservedly interrupted by a burst of eagerness over Alex’s intercom. The front desk attendant from downstairs alerts Alex that Brittany is on her way up. Both men stare at each other. Alex looking around his disheveled apartment becomes uncomfortable with the news and Valde’s own distress level rises not knowing if he really wants to see her right now. Unlike Alex’ his own break from the world was primarily triggered by her. Both men turn to look at the door as the sound of a key rumbling within its lock is heard. Brittany is letting herself in.
She enters the room greeted by blank stares and stiff silence, “Good evening boys!”
No response from Alex, however Valde returns the salutations in a low mumble.
“Well nice to see that you two dummies are still alive. You both look like shit. Alex, would it kill you to put down the drink for fifteen minutes, shower, shave, take a bath, or lick yourself. I don’t know, do whatever it is you do to not smell the way you do right now.”
“Hey missy it’s terribly rude of you to come into my home and insult me, your most affable host, the way you are doing right now. I know that our mom taught you better manners than that, besides how do you know that it’s me smelling up the room,” he fires back, “How do you know that it’s not Valde?”
“Well for one you are wearing the exact same clothes you were wearing yesterday, the day before and last week. Secondly, the abominable disappearing black man sitting next to you is clean. The only reason why I find him horrible right now is because of his behavior.”
“What have I done to be so detestable?” Valde asks her.
“You my dear decided to not take my calls and went and banned me from coming upstairs to your flat. For the same period of time that this guy forgot what clean clothes and a latrine looked like you were nowhere to be found.”
“What’s up with this British accent, when since have you started using words such as flat and latrine?” He asks looking at her oddly, but he was not finished her deception still burns him and he was not about to have her forget so he stingingly adds, “As for banning you from my flat, well without getting too much into it, you kind of deserved it!”
She stares apologetically into his eyes.
Alex, a bit intrigued, asks, “What have we here, a lovers’ squabble?”
Without warning, Alex’ quip leads to a concerted backlash, as both Valde and Brittany turns at him and simultaneously shout, “Shut up, smartass!”
“OK fine whatever it is you too are fussing about has nothing to do with me,” Alex repudiates, “So I will resume doing what I was doing before you two, uninvited and unannounced, decided to drop by. All I ask of the both of you is that you hold it down, don’t want you disturbing the neighbors. I have been doing a hell of a job of that myself, I don’t really need any extra help.”
“You cheeky bastard,” attacks Brittany, “this has everything to do with you. Had it not been for your big mouth, Valde would never have found out.”
“I hate to admit that I agree with her,” Valde adds to the onslaught, “but this certainly has to do with you. How could you for so long not tell me that she was keeping this secret from me?”
Alex looks at them both, look up at his high ceiling as if this is his first time noticing the mosaic angels tiled above him, then he takes a gulp of his Vodka. He smiles, takes a deep breath, sighs and sinks back into his chair, again putting his glass to his lips; however this time before swallowing, he swishes the Vodka around in his mouth. Brittany and Valde looks at him then at each other both growing irritated by his attitude. Finally Valde asks, “So are you going give me an answer?”
“Are you sure you want one?” Alex asks chuckling, “I can assure you that you might not like my response. As they say the truth comes out when one is drunk. In this instance the one is me, and I am not under any constraints to how shall I put this, yes practice diplomacy.”
“Go ahead let me hear it.”
“OK here it goes. Valde you have become my dearest friend, I mean we have been through a lot but at the end of the day that’s my little sister that you had knocked up. I know you are an honorable guy and all but at that time I wasn’t amused by the notion of having to call you brother-in-law for obvious reasons.”
“Really, and what were those reasons, for as obvious as they are to you I can’t fathom them.”
“Well, you simply aren’t from the same world as us, and back then you were nowhere as successful as you are right now. While my parents may adore you they are for a lack of a better word ‘traditional’. They wouldn’t have accepted you two being together and starting a family. Of course they and their friends would have been more likely to overlook certain shortcomings you might have been born with had you then the level of success you now have.”
“Do you mind expanding on those shortcomings,” says a less than amused Valde.
“No please don’t get upset, this is not an attack on you, if anything it is us who should be embarrassed by that stain on our psyche. Listen I am embarrassed,” says Alex as visibly apologetic as he is drunk, “However I can’t say that my parents would have been so ready to shift the paradigm, change the status quo if you know what I mean.”
“I hear you loud and clear I wasn’t good enough for your sister, funny but I know for a fact that she doesn’t agree with you.”
“I agree she doesn’t agree with that sentiment and truthfully neither do I, still ask her this one question, did she tell mom who had gotten her pregnant. I will spare you the words and tell you that she lied and told mom that it was someone she didn’t know. Of course this could have been for any number of reasons, but was such a lie necessary, after all you are practically like family.”
The three sit there for minutes in total silence, only sound that could be heard between them is the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. At this point Valde and Brittany join Alex in his celebration de vie downing a couple shots of Vodka in quick succession. Sometime between his scathing words and Valde’s last swallow Alex managed to pass out, Brittany then softly says, “You know that I only got that abortion because we weren’t ready to be parents, no other reason.”
“I know,” he says comfortingly, “Still we can’t ignore that there is a lot of truth in what he just said.”
“I agree, unfortunately that’s the messed up state of our world. I am just hoping that maybe one day that won’t still be the case.”
“We all hope for nirvana. Still isn’t hoping just the act of wishing for the best while strongly fearing the worst.”
“Valde even if that is so, we should never give up hope while doing what we can to bring about change.”
“Hey, whatever you say.”
“Speaking of change, you are coming to the fundraiser next week am I correct?”
“Have I a choice in the matter?”
“Nope, none whatsoever, I would also like to thank you for your generous pledge.”
“You are very welcome, and do you mind telling me just how generous my pledge was.”
“Gladly,” she smiles, “You, the patron saint that you are, have selflessly given us a lot.”
“Wonderful,” he rues.
“Val, why the long face?” she jeers.
“Es macht nicht,” he murmurs.
“On another note while you were busy being an absentee in my life, I met with Phillip.”
“You did! That’s great and did you achieve the closure you were looking for?”
“Yes I did. It’s been over three weeks and I still haven’t stopped asking myself what the hell did I ever see in him? He is such a cruel and vile person.” she says regretfully.
“Hey love is a strange phenomen
on.”
“That it might be but I must have been half out of my mind to not have seen him for who he truly is. I guess I live and I learn.”
“Isn’t that what life is, an unrelenting buffet of ongoing lessons and exercises?”
“That might be true. Anyway, oddly enough, he calls me up out of the blue saying that he has to see me and refuses to take no for an answer.”
“So what was your answer?”
“I haven’t given him one yet. What should I do?”
“If he won’t take no for answer then go see what it is that he wants,” Valde then adds, “just don’t go giving him anymore of your sex, that’s what got you into that mess to begin with.”
“I am not stupid, dumbass! There is no way I would even so much as let him touch me again”
“So you do believe that you now have closure where he is concerned?”
“I honestly do. It was a great life lesson one I hope to cherish always.”
“Good for you my dear. I am both very happy and very proud of you.”
“Thank you my dear sweet dumbass.”
At this point Alex awakes, “You two are still fighting? Come on, what is it with the both of you?” Then remembering the result of his last interjection less than half an hour ago, “You know what guys, this time it’s truly none of my business. Please excuse me as I go take a much needed shower.”
Both Valde and Brittany sigh and exclaim, “Thank God!”
Chapter 34
Brittany paces back and forth about her apartment, her heels tracing a pattern worthy of a curator’s interest, all this nervousness the manifestation of mental wrangling as she deliberates whether or not to meet with the most sickening man she has known since the stupid frat boy she dated while in college. Luckily that chapter of her life, and now this too is dead and buried. Still there is something within her, a weakness of sorts, which she can’t ignore when it comes to a still very much breathing Mr. Phillip A. Betruger, his very name in Deutsche means betrayal. Valde had jokingly warned her of its translation when he first learned Phillip’s moniker. She dismissed Valde’s cautioning as being an uncharacteristic act of jealousy, which she found odd because before that incident she would never have pegged Valde as the jealous type. He vehemently denied being jealous and insisted he was only being protective. She now thinks what were the odds of Valde being right? How was she to have known then that there was so much more to a person’s name? Insanely she questions if the act of having affairs was scribbled into his DNA? It was no secret that the men in his family had a reputation for being wayward paramours; even his reputation of being a chronic flirt preceded him. Then gathering a bit of her senses she concedes that she is only making up excuses for his reprehensible cruelty. Whether it was impressed upon him through his environment or inherently derived, his philandering was nothing to make up excuses about. Still for some reason, inexplicable to her, she so dearly wants Phillip to redeem himself. She hopes that this is what his request to see her is about. However she can’t imagine how he could possibly do so. She is convinced that there is nothing that he can tell her that will make her forgive him. She is certain that he no longer holds this strange delirium-filled spell over her. She is willing to see him to substantiate this. Not that she feels she has anything to prove to him, but to her own self she must be true. Her certainty that she is over him is ironclad until her tendency to over analyze things leads to doubts creeping in. She now finds herself again standing in front of a mirror inflicted with the malady of cussing and swearing at her image for being weak. She must face the devil to make her way to heaven she decides. There is no recoiling from this, she has to see him.
“Hi this is Brittany calling for Mr. Betruger.”
“Mr. Betruger is currently on a conference call, may I take a message?”
“Sure you may, could you just let him know that I called,” she pauses then adds, “He was expecting my call.”
“I certainly will,” responds the annoyingly perky receptionist. Brittany hangs up to resume inadvertently etching her way through the floor to the apartment beneath hers. Unaware that she is committing minor damage to her wooden floors she again berates herself this time for being so foolish and weak in the first place to have made that call. Forty-five minutes go by and still no response. Now she is really livid, the question of why did she do that floats like clouds throughout her thoughts. As she continues along this line of consciousness, those clouds grow darker and heavier with each thought. She finally screams, “Enough is enough!” With heavy panting she states, “I am not some desperate under accomplished school girl on hands and knees awaiting her professor’s affection. I have been there before and the last time I checked I am no longer nineteen. I need to smoke, where did I place those wretched things?”
She sets off to her bedroom in search of her pocket book. Her midyear resolution to quit smoking, which she made in conjunction to swearing off men and the occasional binge drinking, was about to end. Her resolve lasted about three weeks, the same period of time her closure from Phillip did.
For about twenty one days she convinced herself that she was fine. She spent those days taking care of her and being buried in work. Everything about her became more intense. Everyone noticed, her personal trainer was impressed by the renewed focus and intensity she brought to her daily work outs. In boardrooms her dynamic energy, spunk, wit and sheer brilliance was something to see. When Maggie Blake, her long time confidante and mentor who occupied the opposing corner office asked her for the name of the new pills that she was popping Brittany smiled. Maggie didn’t believe Brittany when she responded that her exuberance was not derived from pharmaceuticals. “No Maggie it’s not killer orgasms either, I would have to be having sex for that to be happening. Well, I could always do it myself but I prefer the part where I include a partner and I can assure you that absolutely no men are welcome. Anyway, the point is it’s not from drugs or sex.”
“Whatever it is, keep doing it,” Maggie smiles, “You were phenomenal in that meeting, you had those two old farts so wrapped around your finger that by the time you were through with them they didn’t know what hit them. I must say that I am very impressed, today the student became the teacher”
“That’s what I do baby, that’s what I do,” Brittany gleamed. As she watched Maggie enter the elevator, she couldn’t help patting herself on the back for successfully rechanneling the passion she had been investing in Phillip back into her career and her life in general. For twenty one days she knew she was better off without him, now here she is noticing possible blotches in that premise.
She holds her cigarette with her lips, setting her lighter to a flicker, about to marry its flame to her oral fixation when the phone rings. Without a thought and like a bad habit she drops both lighter and cigarette and rushes to answer the call.
“Hello.”
“Hello I am looking for Brittany?”
Brittany instantly recognizes the annoying voice to be that of Phillip’s secretary and responds, “This is she.”
“Hi this is Katie, Mr. Betruger’s assistant, he instructed me to tell you that he is still on his teleconference and promises to return your call as soon as he is done.”
Disappointed by the call, Brittany decides to become busy in a bid to calm her anxiety. Her torture is soon commuted as Phillip, as promised, calls. Their conversation is brief but cordial. Suspense filled and lacking restraint she agrees to meet him the next day.
The next morning a bouquet arrives from him at her office thanking her for agreeing to meet. The card is signed Your Phillip. At first she smiles, the thought of him being her Phillip causes a warm sensation in her chest. Sentimentally it is a much desired notion then suddenly as if someone poured bile over a slice of cake and forces her to eat she becomes disgusted. How dare he call himself hers while being married to another, and why is she so ready to succumb to sentimentality? Now the issue of does she still meet him has to be dealt with. However that would have to be dealt
with later for she is already in the midst of a swamped schedule with other more imminent matters to deal with. Later as her day winds down she takes a deep breath and about an hour before their meeting Brittany calls to cancel citing that she isn’t feeling well. He refuses to rain check and insists that he must see her; he is willing to come to her if she can’t make it out. Her resistance to his plea is waning, greatly undermined by the sense that he needs her. It’s always good to be wanted, now imagine how great it feels when the object of all that you deeply desire needs you, she can’t help folding. As the words you can come over tonight exit her lips she makes a fist and squeezes tightly, writhing in self-loathing at how easy she is being. What she hates more than anything else right now is how good being weak feels.
Phillip arrives at Brittany’s place and after a quick attempt at a kiss on the cheek which outwardly is coldly received she welcomes him in.
“I come bearing gifts,” he smiles and says as he tries to melt the iciness between them, “I brought with me your favorite bottle of red and of course I had my driver drop me by our favorite pastry shop in the East Village on the way here.”
“Did you really? Now tell me did you go inside yourself or did you simply instruct him which cheesecake to pick out?”
“My dear I would never assign a task so delicate and so personal to anyone other than myself.” he smiles, “Come take it. It’s fresh out the oven.”
“It does look quite delicious. Do tell your chauffeur I thank him kindly.”
“Oh my dear Brittany I have missed that sense of humor of yours,” he admits.
“Have you really, I can’t say that I have missed much of you. Far more pleasant thoughts have been filling my mind.”
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