I got the harebrained idea to plan my high school reunion a year ago, back when I thought Kurt and I were happy. There’s NO WAY I would’ve propelled myself to the front and center of all of the faces of my past if I thought for one minute I’d have to show up without him. But it’s a year later and a lot has happened…Leo has happened. I take the freedom revelations I had from my last therapy session very seriously, and if I ask Kurt to attend my class reunion with me, he won’t think we’re a hopeless cause. This reunion has to be my first attempt at facing my fear of failure- just one of the big three roadblocks to my freedom, and I have to go alone.
Courtney, Nicole, Kelly and I are getting ready in one of the rooms at the hotel where the reunion is, and their husbands, all ex-football buddies of Kurt’s, are pounding beers in the room next to us. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that none of them are very happy with me. I hear Craig say something about, “It won’t be the same without him,” and Kyle chimes in with “Even though he wasn’t in our class, he’s the one everyone wants to see.” Then fucking Guss raises his beer bottle and says, “Here’s to Kurt.” Assholes.
“Just ignore them, Chrissy, they don’t know what they’re saying, they’re drunk.”
I take a sip of my wine while I glare at Nicole. She knows full well those guys know exactly what they’re saying. Then I walk into the bathroom and close the door. I look down at my hand for a really long time before I slip my Banana Republic ring off of my finger. For weeks, I’ve been wearing it lieu of my wedding ring. It’s been easy to use my weight loss as an excuse for the substitute, but the truth is not many people noticed. Not even Kurt. I carefully place the ring on the counter and then take my wedding ring out of my purse. I stare at it, too, for a really long time before I slip it into place. Then I ask myself, which ring gets me closer to my freedom goal? Knowing the answer, I take my wedding ring off. But, which one will spare me total embarrassment? Good Lord, what are those Freakmontians gonna say when I walk in there without my ring and without Kurt!? I can’t do this fear-facing bullshit! Why is this happening to me? Why now!?
“Chrissy, you ready to go?”
“Be right out.”
Staring at my jewelry for a minute longer, and feeling the pressure to hurry up and pick a piece, I gently place the rings on a towel and close my eyes. I wrap them up, shake them, and then unfold the towel. Without opening my eyes I tell myself the first one I touch is the one I wear.
“Shit.”
Other than Kyle’s burp, it’s silent on the elevator ride down to the ballroom. I can tell that half of the gang is nervous for me and the other half is bitter that their evening won’t be half as much fun as it would be if Kurt were here. I tightly wrap my right hand over my left hand to touch and conceal my ring. I’m looking straight ahead at the shiny metal elevator doors and the reflection I see of all of us in our fancy clothes makes me think back to my senior prom. My heart and mind were a mess way back then, too, but for entirely different reasons than they are right now.
*****
May, 1987
“Omigod, you guys! I’m gonna wear peach!”
“Like you’re gonna look hella good in that color, Chrissy! You’re totally gonna dye your shoes to match, right?”
“Fer sure, Nicole! Like, I’m not an animal, I know how to merchandise myself!”
The fashion events leading up to my senior prom were supremely fabulous. Courtney, Nicole, Kelly and I color-coordinated our prom dresses so that we wouldn’t color clash in any group photos. We knew we’d be splattered all over the year book, and no stone was left unturned to make sure every shot would be Seventeen magazine-worthy. Everything down to our rhinestone earrings and dyed-to-match bow ties for our boyfriends were ready to go weeks before the prom. I wish the same degree of fabulosity could be said about my relationship events leading up to the big event. Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure if Kurt was going with me. He had graduated a year earlier and felt like one prom was enough in his lifetime. He was having trouble choosing between the most important event to date in my life and the college softball world series. Yep, that’s my competition.
Ever since I met him a year ago, I haven’t felt like I stood at the top of his fun list. Unless, of course, if I agreed to go along with whatever activity he planned for himself, then I made the cut. But I feel like my prom should be different, it should be something that he’s able to separate his feelings about and go along with because it’s important to me. Isn’t that what all normal guys do? I mean, other than the four gay guys in our class, what guy really wants to put on a tux, pay for a limo, and attend a prom!? Exactly… none! But they do it anyway for the special girl in their life who they hope to bang in the back of that limo at the end of the night. Why can’t Kurt be that sweet? I want to ask him but I learned that he doesn’t like to be pestered about things he doesn’t care about. He wouldn’t get angry at me, he’d just flat out refuse to go to my prom out of contempt for being questioned and then I’d really be screwed. My only hope is that Craig, Guss, and Kyle convince him to go or the college softball world series is a close out. But since I haven’t told my girlfriends about Kurt’s potential no-show, because it’s shameful, I can forget about their boyfriends helping me out. Time to start watching college softball so I can track the fate of my future.
And…my future doesn’t look so bright. The softball series is tied 3-3, with the tie breaking game set for, of course, tonight…prom night. Staring at myself in my bedroom mirror, covered in peach from head to toe, I curse myself! Oh, why couldn’t I have befriended one of those four gay guys!?
“What time does the limo show up?”
Looking at the hello kitty clock on my nightstand, I let out a heavy sigh and tell Courtney, “In about five minutes.”
“Why so sad, Chrissy? I mean, you look mega cute.”
And I do. My strapless form-fitted floor-length peach taffeta creation turned out way better than I expected. My shoes and purse are dyed to match to perfection, and I could NOT have asked for a better hair day. Total redemption from junior prom! All that being said…it makes perfect sense that Kurt won’t show up and I won’t be able to rub my splendor in everyone’s face. This sucks.
Just as I’m about to confess my horrible secret to the girls my mom bursts into my room, cigarette dangling from her lower lip, and pissed that she had to walk away from Phil Donahue to tell us, “Limo’s here girls. Don’t be too late tonight. Doors lock at 1am. You come home any later and you sleep on the porch. Capish?”
In unison we let out a patronizing, “Caaaaaaapiiiiish”
On the way down the long hallway, which feels more like a walk to death row, I’m wondering how I’m gonna pay for my portion of the limo.
“You guys, stop. I can’t go! I feel totally moted!”
Peering out the front door, Nicole belts out, “Like no way! I’m the one that’s moted!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The corsage that Kurt’s holding…it’s the one I wanted, but Kyle’s such a fucking cheapskate he wouldn’t pop for it! I’m so hating you right now, Chrissy Anderson.”
Almost knocking down the hundred and twenty-five pounds of taffeta that exists between the three of my friends, I whiz out the front door and run into the arms of my knight and shining armor.
“You’re here!”
“I was always gonna come, babe.”
“Then why couldn’t you just tell me that, why put me through all of this torture?”
“I dunno, I guess I just don’t like it when you put so much emphasis into trying to impress other people. I wanted you to focus on something else.”
A lesson? Kurt used my prom to teach me a lesson?! Shouldn’t I react according to how fucked up that is? He put me through hell for the last four weeks! He sucked whatever morsel of pre-prom fun I’ve dreamed of experiencing for the last four years of high school! He made me think I wasn’t special! I have to react accordingly! But…he looks so handsome. Ev
erything about us is so perfect right now. I can’t be the one to spoil this night for everyone…mostly myself. And after all, he may have a point. He just wants me to be a better person. What’s not to love about that?
“I guess you’re right.”
After a sweet kiss on my lips and a look that tells me he’s always right, he yells out, “Limo’s on me guys! Now let’s party!”
*****
Another obnoxious burp from Kyle knocks me back into my present dilemma. The one where I either stake out the nearest emergency exit and make a run for it before the idiots from the class of 1987 notice I’m solo or face them head-on and admit my marriage failure. Like the snake I am, I slither my way to the back of the elevator to give myself more time to make a choice. My heart is about to pop out of my skin. What was I thinking by choosing my high school class reunion as my coming out alone party? Sure I was full of all kinds of freedom conviction when I left Dr. Maria’s office last time, but that was like a whole entire week ago! More than enough time to turn back into the fear-infested Francesca that I am.
Think, think, think, think, think. I know! I’ll make up a story about Kurt arriving later and then I’ll call him and beg him to show up. Nah, he’s most likely off on some kind of hiking or biking excursion. Maybe I can tell everyone he had to go out of town on business! Shit, that won’t work. It’ll only be a matter of minutes before his drunk meathead football buddies throw me under the bus. Who am I kidding, at least half of my graduating class showed up at this thing to see Kurt Gibbons. They’re gonna demand answers. It’ll be a mere matter of minutes before I’m laughed at and people start asking me for refunds…again. I’m so screwed. The elevator makes its crash landing and the doors open a lot faster than I want them to. Fuck me.
Almost instantly I hear like seventy-five “Dude’s!” and about thirty-three “Bro’s!” and I’m wondering what the hell has Kyle, Craig, and Guss so excited. And then I hear him.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Walking towards me, Kurt says, “I need a minute to talk to this beautiful woman.”
I should be mad…furious really. But I’m not. I’m so relieved I could die.
“How did you--”
“The catering company left a message at the house about the balance due on the account, said they’d take a check tonight at the reunion. Babe, why didn’t you tell me this was tonight?”
“I wanted to see what it would be like to choose to be alone for once. You know, instead of listening to you complain or wondering if you’d bail at the last minute because the fish were biting in some far off location.”
“Chrissy, I’m so sorry for all the stupid shit I put you though over the years. I’m an idiot.” Extending his hand to me, “Can you forgive me?”
And then I see them. All the girls from my past, staring and salivating over my husband. It makes me sick. But not quite as sick as I make myself when I cave in to all of my fears and take Kurt’s hand. As painful as the man makes my life, he really does show up when I need him the most. Then, like being rushed by a bull at Pamplona, some chick from the class of ‘87 runs up to me.
“Oh my God, Chrissy, you’re ring is totally amazing!”
Looking down at my ginormous diamond wedding ring, I think to myself: not quite as amazing as the ring I left upstairs, and not even close to how amazing of a coward I am.
You gotta keep ‘em separated
Like the latest fashion
Like a spreading disease…
They’re gonna bash it up, bash it up, bash it up, bash it up
Hey, man you talkin’ back to me?
You gotta keep ‘em separated
(Come out and Play, The Offspring)
Panic
May, 1998
Well I certainly won’t be winning any conviction awards any time soon. And I probably won’t be getting any freedom anytime soon, either. My weak moment at the reunion triggered all kinds of optimism. Optimism amongst my friends that Kurt and I are gonna work things out, and optimism in Kurt that we’re not nearly as damaged as I portrayed us to be at our therapy session.
I miss Leo so much. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him because Kurt’s been ON FIRE with optimism and planned all kinds of fun little activities to keep me nice and busy. He took me on a gondola ride at Lake Merritt in Oakland. That fucking sucked. He took me on a boat ride to Alcatraz in San Francisco. That fucking sucked. He took me to an outdoor bizarre in Berkley. That really fucking sucked. But, the thing that sucked the most about all of it was my inability to tell him it all sucked. Tell me, how do you tell someone who’s trying their very best to please you to stop? No seriously…tell me!
No matter what activity Kurt drags me off to, I’m always on the lookout for Leo, and my hand is always on the car door handle. I put myself in these imaginary heart- wrenching scenario’s where Kurt and I stumble into Leo as we’re holding hands, pretending to be happy. Leo demands answers, Kurt starts swinging punches, Leo starts kicking the shit out of Kurt. Both of them are expecting me to side with one or the other but there’s no way I can root for or against either of them. I love them both. Sometimes, on the way to the activities, I feel like pulling the car door handle when we’re on the freeway going 70mph so I don’t have to put myself through the torture.
I told Leo I was in Chicago last week to give myself some breathing room, but I was really in Dallas. Why, you might ask? Because two weeks ago, when I couldn’t see him due to obligations with Kurt, I lied and told him I had to go to Dallas for work. Then, when I really did have to go to Dallas, I told him I was in Chicago because he’d probably think it was strange that I was in Dallas two weeks in a row. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but do you see the paranoia I’m dealing with here?! I don’t even need to lie about some of the things I lie about, but I can’t keep track of which of the honest bits of my days I tell to either of them, so I keep on making stuff up. And when my stories don’t add up, I play dumb. Or worse, I make them feel like they’re the ones losing their mind. Note to anyone considering the arduous task of adultery and the mini-tasks associated with it like lying and manipulating: It’s not the cheating that makes you a sicko. What makes you a sicko is the lies you deliberately tell without regard for how insane you might make other people.
And the lying is just the tip of the iceberg. Try managing a boyfriend and a husband who live twenty minutes apart! It’s much more difficult than I ever could’ve imagined, and I don’t recommend it for the faint of heart. Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo and Kurt took me disco bowling in Danville with Nicole and her husband, Kyle. Let’s pause for a moment and reflect on Kurt’s poignant effort. I don’t like disco, and I don’t like bowling, and I HATE the shoes you have to wear to do it in, and he should know ALL of that after twelve years together. I can’t wait for our next therapy session together when Dr. Maria gives him two snaps for his effort and then I dive bomb him with all of the reasons why taking me bowling was the stupidest idea in the world. I digress…sorry about that. Anyway, I suppose the bright side of the evening was that I got to spend some time with Nicole. At first Kurt suggested we go on “the date” alone, but I convinced him to bring along another couple and there were two big reasons why.
1) I can’t be alone with Kurt. He might try and get romantic, and I can’t have that. I’m already cheating enough.
2) If we run into Leo or one of his cronies, I’ll DEFINITELY need someone to help me diffuse the situation. Nic’s the best person to do that.
Out of my three best friends, Nicole’s the only one I’d consider telling the secret of my affair to. She’s the only one who can sort of relate to what I’m doing. You see, pre-nuptial Nic and her husband Kyle screwed around with other people and were involved in enough overly dramatic break-ups to put Alison and Billy from Melrose Place to shame! If I ever got caught, or God forbid, had to confess to having an affair, she has her own prior experiences to draw from to try and make mine not seem so bad. Okay, obviously I’m a much bigger pig than her, but I know s
he’d at least try to make me feel better. That’s what makes her so great. And, thank God, I insisted that my little swine friend go bowling, because #2 on my list of reasons to have her with me crept up and smacked me real hard on the ass and not in a good way like you see on the Spice Channel.
“You guys want another Corona? Me and Kyle are gonna go get another round.”
“Si, dos por favor.”
“God, Nicole, you’re so stupid.”
“Geez girl, why such a bitch these days?”
I wait to respond until I’m sure the guys are out of earshot.
“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind these days. There’s all that weird stuff going on between Kurt and me, and work is really stressing me out. I’m always on edge.”
“Just chill and try to have some fun. It’s Cinco de Mayo, baby! Besides, you and Kurt just hit a rough patch. You guys will work it all out.”
“I’m not so…”
Like a shot of lightning, Nicole hits my arm and points to the bar.
“Hey look, isn’t that the girl you were talking to at the restaurant a few months ago? The one with the really great hair?”
“What? Where?!”
“Talking to Kurt and Kyle! Look, she and her friends are… WAIT!
Are they hitting on our husbands!?”
“Holy crap, that’s Megan!” “How do you know her?”
“She’s the reason why I’m always on edge these days. Well not her exactly, but kinda her.”
“What the F are you talking about, Chrissy?”
“Omigod, omigod, omigod! I can’t let her see me! I’m going to the bathroom! When the guys get back with the beers, meet me in there.”
Hurry!”
Five minutes later Nicole bursts into my stall.
The Life List (The List Trilogy) Page 17
