by Lisa De Jong
Tilting her head back a little and losing her balance a little in the process, Bonnie says, “Of course, I care about him. I don’t want to hurt him, but I honestly only want to have some fun. I can say with absolute certainty that I have no desire to get involved in a serious relationship. And not just now but ever.” Her gaze shoots forward to pin both of us. “I know what y’all are thinking, but I’m serious. I’d rather end things with Garner now than end up like that.”
“But why?” Farah asks with pure wonder.
“Farah, I was married to a man who didn’t love me.”
“Bonnie—” I start.
“No, Celeste. He didn’t. He didn’t love me, he didn’t respect me, and he didn’t care if I knew or didn’t know that. He had affairs right under my nose. Never caring how that made me feel or how that hurt me.”
“God, Bonnie. I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“You tell me everything, Celeste. But I never told you the half of it,” she admits with a sigh.
“Why, Bonnie? You know you can talk to me.” It hurt that she hadn’t told me.
“I know that. But the worst of it went down when Tripp was dying, and I couldn’t burden you with that.” Taking a deep breath, she confesses, “I walked in on him once screwing his secretary. She was riding him in our bed, and he glanced over at me like he was annoyed with me. He just grasped her hips harder and continued all the while keeping his eyes on me. What did I ever do but love him and try to make him happy? Nothing and everything and all that lies between, that’s what.” She downs the rest of her drink with one gulp. Farah and I sit in stunned silence for a moment. I knew that they weren’t happy, but I’d had no idea it was that bad.
I pray that God gives me the words to help her because I have no idea what to say. “You do realize that that is a reflection on him and not you, Bonnie. Someone who would treat another person like that...it’s clear that he is an awful human being who was undeserving of your love and that you’re one of the most generous and deserving people I’ve ever known. And just because he was a selfish fool doesn’t mean that all men are.”
Farah chimes in with her two cents. “Yeah, and just because Matthew is a wonderful husband doesn’t mean we don’t have our share of problems. All I’ve ever wanted to be is a mother. I know that may not seem like a lofty aspiration these days. I know you two have careers. But I never wanted that. I always saw myself as a wife and a mother. And...” she pauses to take a steadying breath. “Matthew doesn’t want to have children. And it’s killing me, y’all. I love him so much and he’s so fantastic. But how do I move on from that? It’s huge. It’s everything.”
“Geez, Farah. Why doesn’t he want kids? I mean, does he never want children or does he just not want them right now? I don’t understand. Isn’t that something you would’ve talked about?” I ask her.
“Yes, we did. Of course, we did. He told me that he wanted them down the road. That he wanted me and his career to take priority early on our marriage. That he wanted me to be able to travel with him and support him without being divided by the responsibility of having children. I always thought this made sense and was the responsible thing to do. So I was fine with that. Well, last year, I started talking to him about the fact that I was getting older and that his career was stable and we should start trying.”
“And?” Bonnie prompts her.
Farah closes her eyes, blows out a deep breath, and reopens her eyes. “And he told me that he really liked the way our life is now. And that he was thinking of making a bid for senator. That was a year ago. He was hesitant, but not decided, so I waited him out a little. When I broached the conversation again, he was no longer hesitant but definite.” She looks down for a moment before sighing deeply and bringing her tear-filled eyes back to ours. “He told me that, under no circumstances, does he want children now. That he was a different person than when we first married.”
Bonnie and I exchange a troubled glance. If that had been her dream all of her life, to have children, how is she supposed to move past that? Can she move past that? “I don’t even know what to say, Farah. That’s a huge…point of contention. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that as much as I adore my husband I can’t imagine going through this life without having what you have. I know you lost your husband and haven’t had it easy, and you’ve been a rock. But those children...they’re so precious and loving, and I can’t imagine not having that. I often ask myself why Matthew can’t be enough for me. Why can’t I just be with him since I love him so much and he’s so good to me? I don’t really have an answer for that other than I just can’t. I want to be a mother. I think it’s the greatest thing I’ll ever do as a human being. If I put all that aside and accept our relationship on his new terms, I’m afraid that down the road I’ll end up resenting him, and we’ll be over anyway.”
Bonnie clears her throat a little. “I’m sorry that I’ve been such a bitch to you lately about having the perfect husband and relationship. I was just jealous of what you had and felt like you couldn’t relate to what I was going through. I should’ve known better. We all have our own hurt, our own pain even if it’s not obvious to the world. You’ll make the right decision, Farah. You’re intuitive and caring and loving. You’ll make the right choice for yourself and for your family.”
“Thank you, Bonnie. You’re forgiven. You weren’t too horrible and I knew you were hurting.” Farah slaps her thighs, jerking me out of my little stupor of watching my best friends make up. “So two problems discussed. Now what are we going to do about Celeste’s problem?”
“Oh no,” I protest. “We’re not discussing me. I’m great. I’m fine.”
Farah rolls her eyes at me. “You’re not great. You’re not fine.”
“She’s in love with Adrian,” Bonnie declares. “And she can’t get over it.”
“And he’s in love with her,” Farah adds. “And he can’t get over it either.”
My mouth falls open. Snapping it back shut, I glare at them both for a few seconds. After everything they’ve just confessed, I owe it to them to be honest. “Y’all are right. I am in love with Adrian. Bad. We’re talking all-consuming, all-encompassing love with him. But there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” Blowing out a deep breath, I continue, “But, Farah, you’re wrong. Adrian may want me and have some feelings for me, but he’s not in love with me.” At the shaking of her head, I reiterate, “No, he’s not. Lust is not love. Caring is not loving.”
Farah narrows her eyes at me and I visibly blanche. “Are you done? Because I happened to have had an extremely enlightening conversation with him. I know what I’m talking about, Celeste. Adrian loves you. Not familial, not obligatory love. I mean true blue love.”
“I heard what he said, Farah. I was eavesdropping in the hall. He said I was his cross to bear and that if he loved me he’d be dead because of my vicious nature. That’s not love, honey, that’s regret that borders on hatred because of feeling a little something like love.”
“Again, are you done?” she asks unperturbed. “Your eavesdropping skills need some work. You should have stuck around and heard our whole conversation. Because what he said after I called bullshit on those statements, would’ve changed your life.”
“What do you mean? Tell me then if it’s so life-changing.”
“I can’t. I swore to him that I wouldn’t. And I know you’re my best friend but his reasons for your not being privy to those thoughts were sound. I’m just hoping that you’ll both come to see reason before I have to intervene.”
“Intervene now, damn it!” I say half-jokingly.
“I can’t. I...I can’t say anymore right now. Only that, I think he’s struggling to figure some things out for himself and that I’m not giving up on the two of you just yet.”
Bonnie finally chimes in while I mull this over. “Ugh...that’s because you’re a hopeless romantic, Farah. They both have their reasons for not being able to overcome whatever they’re up ag
ainst, and we should respect that.”
“You make us sound weak and our problems trivial.”
“If the shoe fits...” Bonnie chimes.
“Oh great! You two make up and then turn on me. I get it. I’ll be your punching bag for this bonding moment, but I promise I won’t do it for long.”
“Aww...honey, you’re not our punching bag. We just want what’s best for you. And we both think that Adrian’s what is best for you.”
“So you’ve been talking about me behind my back?” I cry disbelievingly.
Farah shakes her head no, but Bonnie pats me on the hand and says, “Of course, we have. But it was for your own good.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Look, even if Adrian feels a little something for me, the forces that we’d be up against,” I shake my head, “they’d ruin us. Both of us. I have my children to consider. If they bring me down, my boys go with me. Do you understand that?”
Bonnie nods her head yes. Farah shakes her head no. “No. No, I don’t understand how your family can be so cruel and manipulative.”
I throw up my hands. “You know, me either. I don’t understand it. I’ve just come to accept it.”
“OK. Our party just got really depressing, but I’m about to change this vibe,” Bonnie decrees, jumping up and swaying a little with the movement and the cosmos.
While she does whatever she needs to do, I run into the kitchen to pour up another round. I drain the contents of my glass quickly and refill us both. “Farah, you sure you don’t want one?” I call.
“No thanks,” she calls back. “I’m just not in the mood for alcohol tonight.”
I’m no lush, but how could you not be in the mood for a cosmo? “Okey dokey,” I singsong.
Suddenly, our quiet music fades out and I hear the opening horn for one of my favorite songs blaring. I abandon our drinks and dart back into the living room in time to see Bonnie grab Farah and pull her up for a little dance. We twirl around for a minute, but as the chorus strikes up, we line up and belt it out in sync, “I love you baby, and if it’s quite all right...” We know every single word, every single intonation, and hit it all on cue. When it slows back down, we sway and serenade each other until it fades and then we collapse on the couch and dissolve in a fit of giggles and tears.
“Oh my gosh, Celeste, please tell me you brought 10 Things I Hate About You.”
I laugh again. She knows me so well. “What do you think? May I interest you in a little Heath Ledger?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
“I knew I loved you. Go get the drinks and I’ll get it going.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Farah follows me into the kitchen and fixes herself a glass of tea while I finish up with our drinks. “This is fun. We need to do this more often. It’s like a slumber party. Do you remember those?”
“Yes, they were so much fun. Do you remember making the sign-in book where you listed all your favorite stuff and hopes and dreams and passed it on to the next person to do the same? It was like old school Facebook.”
“No, we had MySpace.”
I groan. “I keep forgetting you’re a dang baby!” I nudge her and we load up and make our way back out. When we hit the living room, we both come to a screeching halt. Bonnie’s face is bunched up like she’s in pain. My eyes follow hers to find Garner standing in the open doorway staring her down. I start to back out of the room but I’m not quick enough. And it’s like I’m invisible anyway because they are so intent upon one another.
“I’m here to tell you that you’re not my girlfriend.” Well, that doesn’t sound good. “I don’t give a shit if you ever meet any more of my friends, or my parents, or anyone else. I’ll never introduce you as my girlfriend, and I’ll never acknowledge you in public. I’ve been miserable all night, damn it. You’re the one I want, and if it has to be on your fucked up terms, then so be it. Thinking about carrying on without you was like wondering what it would be like to try to carry on without oxygen. My chest burned at the mere thought of it. I can’t do it. I won’t do it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing in the most serious tone I’ve ever heard him use. “Bonnie, queen of my soul and imprisoner of my heart, will you do me the honor of being the woman I bang on a regular basis, the woman I flaunt at my gigs as the hot piece of ass I get to go home with every night, and the woman I’m honored to hang out with if she’s got nothing or no one better to do?”
I blink rapidly at his unconventional “proposal” and look toward Bonnie. Her eyes have filled with tears, and she’s nodding her head up and down. Before she can say a word, Garner is across the room, hoisting her up in the air, and pulling her head in for a kiss while simultaneously whisking her up the stairs.
He pulls back only slightly to murmur against her lips, “Tell your friends good night.”
Not taking her eyes off his, I barely hear her mumble, “Good night.”
Turning toward each other with identical expressions of astonishment, Farah and I burst out laughing. We head back into the kitchen and straighten up quickly, all the while giggling and shaking our heads at our quirky lovebirds. Whatever works, I guess.
“Will you drop me at my house on your way home?”
“Yeah, sure,” she agrees.
Locking up behind ourselves, we head down to Farah’s car and start toward my house. When Farah starts the car, I reach over and turn the song up, “Oh, I love her.”
“Me too. ‘Breakaway’ is my favorite too.”
After listening to the lyrics for a minute, I feel a pull unlike any other, I put my hand over hers as it rests on the gearshift. “Will you do me a favor and not ask any questions?”
“Umm...yeah, of course.”
“Will you drive down Willow?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She shakes her head at me.
“You said—”
“That wasn’t a question. It was an observation,” she says as she puts her signal on to turn.
“Thank you, Farah.”
As we near his apartment, I ask her to pull over and wait here for a minute. I don’t really know why I’m stalking him, but I’d always wondered what it would feel like to do this kind of thing. I’d heard it was a popular thing to do when you were young and crushing on somebody. I really don’t see what all the fuss is about. I’m staring at a lifeless building.
That thought dissipates rapidly as I see him move out onto his balcony. Holding his cell to his ear, I see him take a swig of the beer he’s holding and make that face like it’s his first sip. I swallow hard as I take him in. Why am I doing this to myself? Stupid, stupid idea! I’m about to ask Farah to pull out when I see her come out to try to sidle up next to him. He shakes her off and motions for her to go back in. She does, albeit, in a pout.
“Let’s go, Farah. You were right. So not a good idea. Furthermore, it was stupid and immature. I’m regressing constantly these days, I swear.”
“Celeste,” Farah says as she pulls back onto the street, “I really think you need to decide what it is you want and go after it. If it’s Adrian, great. If not, move on. All this...indecision is not good for you.”
I laugh a little too loudly. “I’ve been cursing myself for that very thing. The kicker is I have decided to move on several times, yet I can’t seem to make my heart get on board with my head. And every time I think I’ve got a handle on it, I have a relapse.”
“I know, honey.” She pats my hand. “It’s easier said than done. I guess you just need some more time, or you need to make a different decision. Seems to me, if you’re having that hard of a time fighting it, maybe you shouldn’t be trying to resist at all.”
“I’m stuck with this decision. It’s just...it has to be this way.”
“I don’t get that either.”
“I know. It’s...complicated. My family is...” I take a deep breath. How do I explain them? “They’re evil, Farah. Can we leave it at that, please?”
“Of course. I don’t mean to push, but I ha
te seeing you this miserable. What you just said about your family I’ve suspected. There are rumors about all that. I can’t even imagine.”
“No, you sure can’t,” I whisper.
Twelve
Everything Changes
IT’S THAT MOMENT. That moment when we think everything is happening on course. No ripples, no waves. We’re just trying to get through another day, feeling like all the little things overwhelm us and they do because they end up making up our day. We get so focused on the little things that we forget the bigger picture. Sometimes we forget to appreciate the things that truly matter because our vision is so clouded by all of the mundane. The here and now become our obsession, and we forget the concept of our finite state because with all the little things vying for our attention it feels like we’ll go on forever.
Then tragedy strikes and shakes our very foundation. We wonder—how did we not see this coming? How did we not sense that something life-altering was closing in on us? How did we not know that our entire world was about to be rocked, rattling everything we know and changing everything about us?
That’s the way of it, though. If we did think like this, we’d need to be heavily medicated just to get out of bed. We wouldn’t be able to function if we considered all the what-ifs life can and does hurl at us. Our fears would completely incapacitate us. Thank God for tunnel vision because if I’d had time to consider how my life was about to change I wouldn’t have survived it.
After Sunday Mass, I run a couple of errands that I know I won’t have time to run once the boys come home this evening. While I am taking care of this, I ponder last night’s conversation with Farah and begin to wonder exactly what the mysterious Mr. OG has under wraps on our local criminals. I come to the conclusion that now is probably the time to find out what kind of insurance policy he possesses to help me out of my predicament. Maybe I could use that leverage to get Adrian out from under their thumbs as well. I don’t know what they have on him, but I do know that they will do anything to protect their own hides, and if I could get both myself and Adrian off of their tenterhooks with the same bit of information all the better.
