“Why are you staring at the sky?”
“Just looking for answers, I guess.”
“Answers to what? Look, you have to come home eventually.
What’s the difference if it’s tonight or next Tuesday?”
He really has no clue that we’re on the verge of divorce.
GRANDPA!?!?!?!?!
“Kurt, I don’t know if I ever want to come home.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tell him!
“I’m just…I need more time and…things are peaceful for me here and…”
“But, Chrissy, we’re married, and you don’t live here. Come home so we can work on us.”
“Do you want me to come home because you’re afraid of what people are starting to think?”
“There’s nothing to think. Married people have problems, and so what, we’re having some.”
“So you think what we’re experiencing is some kind of bump in the road?”
“Yeah, it’s not always gonna be perfect. Those old people you see walking down the street, you know the cute ones holding hands and looking like it’s been so perfect all those years. They’ve had tons of problems like this but they battled through all of them to earn that look.”
“Or maybe they’re just holding onto each other so they don’t fall over.”
“Chrissy, I’m serious. This is what marriage is.”
I don’t know what’s worse, that he actually believes this is what marriage is or that I packed up my belongings and went back home.
Every dream that had been shattered
Disappears without a trace
Now that I’ve found what really matters…
There’s a world behind these walls
That I just need to see, believe in me
(Believe in Me, ATB)
Bar hopping gutter slut(s)
August, 1998
I took one step forward by moving out and ten steps backward by moving back home last month. Whatever ounce of progress I made by alerting Kurt to our problems was all but buried when I got in the car to go home with him that night.
He was giddy as we drove home, talking about normal things like mowing the lawn and giving the dog a bath. I also got a ten-minute tough love speech about how damaging it is to your car to drive around with a flat tire. With my hand on the door handle I sat silent in the passenger seat thinking about Francesca and prison. And I was silent three weeks ago when he came home with the most beautiful diamond necklace for me. That thing must have cost a thousand bucks, and it’s the first thing he ever bought me that didn’t belong anywhere near a campground. Even so, I barely muttered a word when he clasped it around my neck. And almost immediately after I moved back home, he started praising the long hours I put in at work, and he hasn’t said a word about the chips and salsa I eat for dinner almost every night. It seems like Kurt’s really, really trying, and I wish so badly his efforts won over my heart, but they’re only breaking it even more…and making it more silent. The whole shit show has Dr. Maria totally confused.
“So let me get this straight, you finally got the nerve to move out, you cut off all communication with Leo so you can have time to sort out your affairs with Kurt, and you tell your friends you’re heading for divorce, but in one five minute conversation with Kurt you’re living at home as if nothing ever happened?”
“Ah…yep, that’s correct. Oh except…it’s as if nothing ever happened for Kurt. I’m totally aware it all happened.”
“Apparently you’re not, because you’re back at home. You’re the one in the driver’s seat, Chrissy! Don’t you see that?”
“I know I am, but how do I drive someone who’s completely unaware there are major problems?”
“You tell him.”
“It’s not that easy! It makes me think I’m wrong.”
After a few seconds of silence, Dr. Maria gets up and starts pacing the floor like an attorney in a courtroom.
“Have you ever fired someone at work?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you give them warnings ahead of time?”
“Of course.”
“So, after you explained the problems to them on multiple occasions, did you feel any guilt, or second guess your decision to fire them in any way?”
“No.
“Did any of them plead to keep their job?”
“Yes.”
“Did you let them keep it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Business is business, and I have a company to run. I can’t have slack holding me back. Plus, if I changed my mind after presenting clear evidence of poor performance, I’d look like a weak fool. I’d lose the respect of my staff.”
“Haven’t you given Kurt warnings that you’re at the end of your rope?”
“You know I have.”
“Even though you decided to move back home, have you second guessed your decision to divorce Kurt?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t you feel like a weak fool in terms of your decision to be with him then?”
“It’s different!”
“How so?”
“I’ve always been in control at work and I’ve never been in control at home. Kurt’s always been the decision maker, so I’m not only stripping him of a wife; I’m stripping him of his power. I might as well kill the man.”
“Whoa! Are you saying his power over you is more important than your happiness?”
“No! I’m saying I don’t have the heart to hurt and confuse him!”
“We’ve been over this a million times, Chrissy. Kurt will be fine.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want him to be.”
“Is that why you’re not getting on with your life? So you don’t have to endure another one of his emotionally-detached episodes? Because I know those can be painful.”
The rest of the session is like déjà vu, and my next session after that is exactly the same. I’ve become stuck in a vacuum with zero ability to escape; the expression “I suck” totally works. On top of everything else I haven’t seen or heard from Leo in five weeks, and the messages on his answering machine have become unbearable to listen to. Not because Taddeo has been throwing me under the bus either. It’s because there has been zero mention of me. The last two messages he left for Leo sent me straight to my medicine cabinet to numb the pain. I finally decided to confess to Slutty Co-worker that I’ve been hacking into Leo’s voicemail, hoping she’d help me stop. Wishful thinking.
“Hold on a minute, you’ve been listening to his messages? That’s unreal!”
“Yeah, about as unreal as that bracelet dangling from your wrist that a married father of three gave you.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m admiring your work.”
“It’s not work, it’s an addiction that might just kill me before my actual marriage does.”
Clapping like a three-year-old she yells out, “Play some for me!”
“Hey Bastard, I’m flying up for the weekend. I’m staying at my buddy’s place in San Francisco, and we’re going to the Red Devil Lounge on Saturday night. His girlfriend has some chicks she wants to set us up with. I know it’s not your scene, but drive down and hang out with us anyway.”
“Don’t worry too much about it, hun. You told me before that Leo’s not the club scene kinda guy.”
“Oh yeah? Apparently he is now. Listen to Taddeo’s next message.”
“Hey, got your message! I’ll pick you up at your apartment in Moraga, and we’ll drive to the city together. It’s gonna be a good time. Blehhhhh.”
“What’s Blehhhh?”
“Some sort of grunting noise they do when they talk. I used to think it was cute, now I hate it. Damn it! I know he’s gonna hook up with a girl!”
“Not necessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if you and I decide to go to the Red Devil on Saturday?”
“Oh that’s just ridiculous!
I can’t do that…can I?”
“Of course you can! Plus, I want to meet that Italian Blehhhhh boy.”
He sounds cute. What’s his name again?”
Two days and two pounds lighter later, Slutty Co-worker and I are in line to pay the cover charge at The Red Devil Lounge. The street is vibrating from the chaos inside, and I’m swaying back and forth to the beat trying to work off some of my nervous energy.
“What the fuck is taking so long?”
“The place is packed! They can only let as many in that come out. Hey, where are you going?”
I don’t mind waiting our turn to get inside, but Slutty Co-worker thinks it’s totally beneath her. I’m not sure if it was her slightly exposed left boob that got us in fast and free or if she promised the guy at the door a little something special if he let us through, but within two seconds of her whispering into his ear, we walk through the red rope as ugly jealous girls snicker at us.
“NICE JOB GETTING US IN! I’M GONNA GRAB A DRINK AND HEAD UPSTAIRS TO THE BALCONY TO GET A BIRDSEYE VIEW OF THE PLACE. YOU STAYING DOWN HERE?”
I swirl around to try to hear Slutty Co-worker’s answer and then feel slightly embarrassed that I was talking to myself. I glance back towards the entrance and see the door guy put his hand on her waist and walk her to the dance floor. Man, she doesn’t waste any time. I order a vodka tonic, pay for whatever the bartender just handed me, and squeeze my way through the crowd and up the spiral staircase to do what I came here for. Once I find my spot on the edge of the balcony I ask myself, “What did I come here for?” Am I here to torture myself, get back together with Leo, or make him as jealous as he’s unknowingly made me? I have no fucking clue, and I almost hope he and his friends decided to go somewhere else so I don’t have to find out the answer. Just when I’m in the middle of figuring out my life, one of the things that annoys me more than anything in the world happens.
“How can a girl like you be all alone?”
God, get a little closer, why don’t you!
“Oh, I’m not alone. My friend’s down there somewhere, I’m waiting for her.”
“Want some company while you wait?”
My first instinct is to tell this guy to screw off, but after giving him a quick inspection and confirming the following:
1) He’s over six feet tall
2) He has all his hair
3) He’s got on expensive shoes
I’m satisfied that he’s fit to be standing next to me as a roadblock against anyone else that might have the audacity to speak to me.
“Sure.”
“Great! I’m Josh.”
“Hey Josh, I’m Prudence.”
I like to give really hideous names to guys who hit on me so they don’t have the retarded need to repeat it every five seconds as if it’s some kind of hot turn on. You know, when they say stuff like, “So, tell me what you do for a living, Prudence,” and “That’s a really nice shirt you’re wearing, Prudence.” It bugs the hell out of me. Suffice it to say, Josh didn’t say my fake name once, but he sure had a lot of other stuff to gab about. I nod every so often, so he thinks I’m listening, but I keep my focus on the real reason I’m here. I scan every person’s face who’s upstairs leaning against the railing of the balcony. No Leo. I scan the dance floor below and look at every person’s face that isn’t stuck to another person’s face. No Leo. I look at the groups of people smashed at the tiny cocktail tables distributed around the club. No Leo. I run my eyes down the long line of people sitting on barstools, starting on the far left and making my way all the way to the end and then…I see him. In the very darkest corner of the club, standing with Taddeo and two horrid, okay, semi-good looking girls, is my beautiful Leo. He’s tan and much stronger than the last time I saw him; probably from working long hours doing construction in the hot Monterey sun. I can no longer hear John or Joe or whatever the hell his name is, and I can’t hear the thunderous music. All I can hear is my heartbeat. All I can smell is Leo. All I can feel is pretty. Predictably, the answer to my question of what I planned on doing if I saw Leo isn’t immediately answered. I just stand and stare.
Nothing, nothing, nothing and then…What the hell does she think she’s doing?! I watch as the sluttier looking of the two chicks wraps her arms around Leo’s neck and throws her head back in a fit of pathetic fake laughter. Does he like it? Before I have a chance to check out Leo’s reaction, I react by accidently dropping my glass over the rail of the balcony, straight down two stories, and directly onto the dance floor. It crashes into a million pieces, people scream, the music abruptly stops, and a zillion hands point up towards the direction of where the wreckage came from. I’m already half way down the staircase when I turn around to see two really big dudes grab John/Joe/Josh’s arms and lead him out a back door. Sorry about that, dude!
Fortunately, the place is back to full force by the time I hit the ground floor, and I easily blend into the crowd. I head straight toward the door but then suddenly remember that I don’t have keys to Slutty Co-worker’s apartment. Chances are that if I walk out of the club I won’t get back in and I won’t have anywhere to go until she decides to leave. And God knows how long she plans on paying that guy back for doing us a favor! I could be standing outside for hours! I whirl around to look for her and, as fate would have it, I slam ches-first into Leo, who happens to be leaving with Taddeo and the two bar hopping gutter sluts.
“Chrissy?”
I hear Taddeo murmur, “Shit.”
The girl standing beside Leo is sizing me up, and she looks really unhappy. There’s no “Hello” from Leo. Just a really pissed off, “Who are you here with?”
He must think I’m here with Kurt because his eyes are darting around, and he looks kinda ready to fight. I wanna do what I always used to do to calm him down: wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, but something tells me that would be a bad idea.
“My friend from work, you know… the one who lives on Clay Street.”
Now Leo’s bar hopping gutter slut knows we have history. Take that! Glancing at the girls, and not wanting to look like the pitiable trolls they are, I extend my hand toward them and introduce myself. They’re so clueless and classless, they don’t even know WHAT to make of my handshake. I raise my eyebrows and give Leo and Taddeo a look of disgusting sympathy. I look calm, cool, and collected but it’s taking all of my self-control to keep from falling to the ground, curling up in a fetal position, and balling my brains out.
“It’s good to see you again, Taddeo.”
Just a grunt.
Leo’s eyes are piercing into mine and out the back of my skull. His voice is even more stabbing.
“You never called.”
“I thought it would be for the better.”
“For me or for you?”
“For you.”
“You should’ve let me be the judge of that.”
He’s standing inches away and staring at me like he’s one angry mother-fucker. I wonder what would happen if I dove in for a kiss. I feel like if I lean…in…just a… smidge…he might…follow…my lead. Just as I’m about to give it a shot, one of the bar hopping gutter sluts says, “Like, are we gonna go to that other place or what, you guys?”
“We are. Come on Leo.”
Fucking Taddeo! I shake my head at Leo’s friend’s obvious contempt for me, but at the same time, I know I deserve every ounce of it. Then I watch Leo’s gutter slut grab his hand and wonder how much longer I can take the beating. My eyes are pleading with his not to leave. They’re trying to tell him I have more to say. But after Taddeo nudges him in the back, he leans in close enough for me to smell him and whispers, “See ya Chrissy.” I want to turn around and watch him walk away, will him to come back, DO SOMETHING, but I can’t seem to move. The music in the club suddenly intensifies, and people start bashing into my shoulders as they violently dance around. I want to get out of their way, but I can’t. My feet are totally stuck.
“HEY CHRISSY, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?
YOU GOTTA MOVE!”
Slutty Co-worker, with smudged lipstick and all, finds me just as the tears are starting to drop.
“Hunny, you’re gonna get the shit kicked out of that tiny little body if you don’t get outta the way.”
I baby step to her and lay my head on her shoulder.
“You saw him?”
“He left with a girl.”
Then, after stroking my hair for a second, she abruptly stops.
“Well apparently he didn’t come back with her.”
“What are you talking about?”
Pointing to someone behind me, “Uhhhhh girlfriend, is that the Blehhhh boy with him? Damn, he’s hot!”
I turn around, and there’s Leo walking right toward me with a very unhappy Taddeo trailing behind.
“Leo, what are you…”
“I don’t know why you keep running away and it kills me every time you do but I’ll always be where I know you are.”
And just like that, Leo pulls me toward him and kisses me. The drug that I’ve craved for almost two months slowly seeps back into my body.
For the next hour we don’t move from that spot. When we aren’t kissing, he whispers things in my ear like, “You look amazing,” and “I don’t like the thought of you in a place like this.” He asks me if I’ve taken care of my break-up business with numb-nuts, and like an addict who hasn’t scored in months I hungrily tell him, “Yes,” before I start kissing him again.
He tries to convince me to go back to his apartment, but not wanting to have a serious conversation with him about the state of my affairs, I convince him and Taddeo to hang out with Slutty co-worker and me at her apartment instead. Two hours after I stumble into Leo at The Red Devil Lounge, we’re hanging out on my friend’s deck with vodka tonics as Third Eye Blind blares on the stereo. It’s an extremely warm evening in the city and Slutty Co-worker suggests we grill late-night snacks. Everyone’s comfortably pitching in, and as it’s all happening I think to myself, this is one of those stand-out moments in life. The smell of the food, the sound of the ice cubes clinking away in our glasses, the sultry temperature, the loud music, the indiscriminate company…it’s absolute perfection. No matter where I end up in life, thoughts of this night will send chills down the back of my neck, and I’ll forever want to go back in time and re-live it.
The Life List (The List Trilogy) Page 25
