Slim Chance

by Jackie Rose

  “Well, I think it’s wonderful,” Claire said, raising her wine-glass. “Congratulations, Evie.”

  We left Mom’s as soon as Albert showed up after work. Sensing I was a little frazzled, Bruce took pity on me and asked me over for some coffee.

  “Thanks,” I told him as he poured me a cup. “We need to talk.”

  “Uh-oh. Maybe we could just watch TV instead.”

  “Seriously, Bruce. I feel really bad. About a lot of stuff. Like what you said about your mom. Is she really mad? This must have cost your parents a fortune.” In all my self-absorption these last couple of months, I hadn’t really thought about what calling off the wedding would mean for them.

  “Don’t worry about it—it wasn’t that much. A few thousand bucks. To tell you the truth, I think she’s actually pretty relieved about the whole thing. I heard her telling one of her friends that you’d always been unstable, so she wasn’t surprised.”

  “That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

  “Hey, I’m just being honest.”

  “Well, I was going to say I should call her and apologize, but now I think I’ll stick to my earlier plan.”

  “That it would be a cold day in hell before you apologize to my mother for anything?”

  “Exactly.” This felt good—just like old times.

  “Yeah, I think that would be best. Although my dad might like to hear from you. Just to say hi or something.”

  He was right—I should have called him. “Okay. If you think he wouldn’t mind hearing from me. Do, uh, they know why we…. called it off?”

  “Not my mom. But my dad does.”

  “You told him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, maybe you don’t have to be.”

  “Why not?”

  He made a face, and said, “I wasn’t going to tell you this, and I only will if you promise not to tell anyone, okay? Especially your mother.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Well,” he said, taking a deep breath, “my dad told me that the same kind of thing happened to them once.”

  “Your mother had an affair?” Ha! I had a feeling Bertie was harboring some sort of dark secret, and this finally confirmed my suspicions. I’d always figured she was probably a repressed lesbian or something. But this would do.

  “No,” Bruce said. “My dad.”

  “Get out!” I yelled.

  “I’m not kidding. I still can’t believe he told me,” he said, shaking his head.

  “With who?” I couldn’t imagine Bruce’s dad with anyone except his mom. And even then, it was a stretch.

  “He didn’t really give me details, which is good because I definitely didn’t want any. But it was a long time ago, before the girls were born. He was out of town, speaking at some sort of preserves conference.”

  “A sticky situation…”

  “Ha, ha. It was a one-time thing. But when he got home, he told my mother right away.”

  “And she forgave him?”

  “Maybe she didn’t feel like she had much of a choice. I was just a baby.”

  This explained a lot. “And I suppose he’s been trying to make it up to her ever since.”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  “Why do you think he told you?”

  “Because I told him about us, I guess. Or maybe he just needed to get it off his chest. But it was kind of weird. When we were talking, he sounded okay with it, like he didn’t really regret it very much or something. Maybe because it was so long ago. I don’t know.”

  This was my big chance.

  “I regret it, Bruce,” I said.

  He’d been playing with the sugar, but now he looked me square in the eyes. “I know,” he said. “But I still can’t believe you actually did that. I thought I knew you.”

  “Imagine how I feel, knowing all this shit is my fault.”

  “Sorry, Evie, but I feel a little worse for myself here.”

  “Of course. Sorry,” I mumbled. I wished he could read my mind. Then he’d be able to see how much I regretted everything. “I want you to know that I would never ask or expect you to forgive me for this. What I did was unforgivable.”

  “It was,” he agreed.

  “And I don’t deserve anything from you. I don’t even know why you’re sitting with me here right now. You don’t owe me a thing.”

  “I don’t,” he said.

  “And I wish…I wish more than anything that I could take your hurt away,” I said. “And put it on myself.”

  “For a while, I wished that, too. Along with some other things. Worse things.”

  “But now…” I said hopefully.

  “Now nothing. I’m still thinking up new ways to torture you.”

  “Very funny.” I said. A joke. That was okay. “Have you come up with anything interesting?”

  “I thought an old-fashioned tar-and-feathering would do. Or maybe just tossing you off the Brooklyn Bridge.”

  “I’ve considered that myself…”

  “Don’t joke about that,” he said seriously.

  “What would you care?” A cheap and manipulative tactic, I admit, but more often than not, this sort of thing worked.

  “Of course I’d care. I’d care a lot.” See?

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t,” I said.

  “If you think I’m going to tell you not to be so hard on yourself, I can’t.”

  “That’s okay, I’m not looking for absolution,” I said. “Feeling miserable is the only thing that makes me feel better, if you can believe that. Torturing myself helps the guilt go away.”

  “Absolution…That’s a heavy word, Evie. Have you been talking to your mother?”

  “Yes. She told me that if I said about three million Hail Marys, all would be forgotten.”

  “Sounds like a start,” he said.

  “Actually, I think I’ve finally accepted that there is no easy way out of this. I’m going to have to live with my mistakes for the rest of my life.”

  “We all do.”

  “There’s an upside, though. My mistakes are so huge and catastrophic that they dwarf everything else in my life, so I can’t help but learn something from them.”

  “Have you really learned anything, aside from trying not to get caught when you cheat on your fiancé?”

  “That’s a very dark way to look at this. And by the way, I know that getting caught wasn’t the mistake. But part of it was letting it come to that in the first place. I should have talked to you more, Bruce. I don’t think I really knew then why I was feeling everything that I was feeling, or why I was behaving the way I was, but maybe if I’d given you the benefit of the doubt, we could have talked it through before it was too late.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “I guess because I didn’t think you understood how important it was for me to be skinny, and I resented you for that. And then it all just got more and more out of control, and I felt completely alone, and even when I knew I was getting into trouble with it, and at work, and all that, I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or give you the satisfaction of being right. Or hurt you.”

  “It sounds like Dr. Shloff is earning her fee.”

  I got up and poured myself another cup of coffee, and topped it off with lots of cream. Getting this stuff off my chest was good, but I also wanted to know where he was at.

  “What do you want from me, Bruce?” I asked. It was a fair question.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “You can go if you like,” he said. Whoops!

  “I’m serious,” I said. “Dr. Shloff thinks you should be confronting your feelings about me.”

  “Does she?” he laughed. “That’s great. Tell her I’ve been doing that every waking minute for the last two months.”

  “You have?”

  “Of course. But I still haven’t figured any of it out. And I
guess the reason you’re here is simply because I asked you.”

  “You mean you want to be friends?”

  “No, no, no. We absolutely cannot be friends.”

  “Oh.” This was a bit confusing. “What then?”

  He thought carefully for a moment or two, then said, “For today, how about lovers? If you’re up for it.”

  “Are you asking me to…to…”

  “Sure. Why not? Just this once, though.”

  This was very unlike Bruce. Very blunt. Reckless, almost. I liked it.

  “It is so not us to do something like this.”

  “Exactly,” he said, getting up from the table and extending his hand for me to take.

  “Now?” I asked, half panicked. I was wearing horrible cotton granny underwear.

  “Now,” he said.

  We didn’t do it right there on the kitchen floor, or anything like that. And we made it to the bedroom without tearing each other’s clothes off. That wasn’t what it was about. Kissing him was familiar and sweet, but it was also strange and exciting, like we both knew it was probably a better idea not to. And for the first time in years, it was truly amazing. Really wild. And totally intense.

  Afterward, we talked like it was no big deal. In situations such as these, most girls know that mature, post-coital banter is essential in order to offset any accidental impressions of neediness.

  “What was that about?” I asked, fanning my face with my hand. All guys like being complimented after sex, and he definitely deserved it this time (Cosmopolitan, March: “5 Politically Incorrect Ways to a Man’s Heart”).

  “You complaining?” He still seemed a bit bewildered.

  “No! God, no. But you’re like a new man!”

  “No I’m not, Evie.”

  “Say what you want, but I’m telling you, that was something else.”

  “I know. I was here, remember?”

  “I’ll never forget it.”

  “Stop it. You’re being an idiot. What am I going to do with you?”

  I fluffed my pillow and snuggled back down under the covers. “Just ignore me,” I said.

  “That’s not so easy. You always seem to be around.”

  “You can tease me as much as you like. I don’t care. And I may not know exactly how you feel about me these days, but one thing’s for sure—you’re still pretty hung up on my family. You can’t get enough of us. Admit it.”

  He pushed me away. “Well, your mother’s a much better cook than you ever were.”

  “Too bad you lost out on all that when you dumped me. A lifetime of lasagna, and you gave it all up…”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so—she brings me food every Sunday!”

  “She does not!” I gasped.

  “Go look in the freezer. There’s turkey for Monday, cannelloni for Tuesday, meatballs for Wednesday…”

  “Unbelievable. She’s unbelievable.”

  “Don’t you dare tell her to stop! I’ll never forgive you,” he said.

  “It isn’t fair, Bruce. You’re giving her false hope.” I was hoping he’d say something like, “No, I’m not—there’s still a chance for us, Evie. Can’t you feel it?” But he didn’t.

  “I probably should try to back off a bit,” he agreed instead. Damn. “But all the cooking aside, they’ve both been great to me, Claire and your mom. Claire, especially. Really supportive. How can I tell her I don’t want to talk to her anymore? She’s my pal.”

  “She’s always adored you,” I said. All of Bruce’s grandparents were dead, so he’d sort of adopted Claire in that sense.

  “You know, I don’t really mind the blond so much,” he said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “It suits you in a weird way. And it kind of makes me feel like I’m lying here with a stranger.”

  “I’m changing it back. I just haven’t bothered yet.”

  “Really?” he sounded surprised. “But what about the new you?”

  I sighed. “The new me got old.”

  “Yeah, I figured that might happen,” he said, moving a bit closer. “So I guess I better take advantage of you now, Blondie, before the Old Evie shows up again.”

  “I’m starting to hope they’re both gone for good,” I said.

  “You didn’t,” Morgan said.

  “It’s no big deal,” I told her.

  “Were you overwhelmed with grief or something? Was he comforting you?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  She shook her head. “But Bruce so always does the right thing, and that was definitely the wrong thing. He’s too level-headed for ex-sex.”

  “Ex-sex?”

  “You know—well, I guess you don’t, actually. It happens when you’ve forgotten all the reasons you broke up in the first place, or pretend you don’t care, just to indulge in one last romp in the hay to get it out of your system.”

  “I don’t think it was like that for us.”

  “Of course it was. Think of it as a much nicer way to say goodbye than all the horrible things you probably said to each other when you broke up. If I’ve done it once I’ve done it a thousand times. Well…not that many exactly, but you get my point.” She lowered her voice and said, “Two weeks after I told Peter that I couldn’t see him anymore, we did it once, just for old times’ sake.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

  “What? Just because I’m toying with the idea of monogamy doesn’t mean I can’t fall off the wagon once or twice. And I haven’t touched him since.” She paused thoughtfully. “But he’s been in Singapore for a month.”

  “But you and Peter were just about sex,” I reminded her. “Mine and Bruce’s relationship had nothing to do with sex. Wait… That’s not what I meant…. What I mean is, for me, not being with him is like saying goodbye to the biggest part of my life. And I’m ready to deal with that. If that’s the way it has to be, then I can learn to handle it,” I said, hoping that saying it out loud would somehow make it true. “Only now, I can’t help but think it’s sort of the same way for him, too.”

  “Evie, it’s different for guys,” she pleaded. “He probably wasn’t thinking about all that. He just wanted to get laid. Ex-sex. You see?”

  “You don’t get it. He’s far too cerebral not to consider the consequences of his actions, regardless of what’s going on in his pants. I know this doesn’t mean we’re getting back together tomorrow or anything like that, it’s just that I know he’d be super-careful about making sure he didn’t give me the wrong impression. And he speaks to my mother all the time. She still cooks for him, for God’s sake! He’s not exactly cutting all ties—”

  “But he’s been getting on with things, with that chick,” she interrupted.

  “This has nothing to do with Daphne. It has to do with us. Me and him. That’s it… But if you must know, he did mention that he and Daphne are just good friends for now. And no, I didn’t ask him if he slept with her, because I’m trying to avoid that whole psycho ex-girlfriend thing, but I’m almost a hundred percent positive he didn’t.”

  Morgan made an If-You-Believe-That-Then-You’re-Even-More-Deluded-Than-I-Thought face. But she didn’t know Bruce the way I did.

  “Look, ex-sex or not, I know it was weird of him to initiate it, but I think he just wanted to be in control for a change. And all I’m saying is that if we were drawn to each other and we both let it happen, then isn’t it possible that there might be some sort of future for us someday?”

  “No way! It’s about nostalgia, plain and simple.”

  An emotional Popsicle like Morgan might never have the capacity to understand a thing as complicated and delicate as my relationship with Bruce.

  Since I feared that hounding Bruce after our little tryst might scare him off, I resolved not to call him until I had something new to say. Which is why I was so relieved when I finally found a job a couple of weeks later. Not a very good one, but one that’ll get me through until I find something respectable. So as of next Monday—instead of
enjoying the first day of my honeymoon as originally planned—I would officially begin my tenure as the new In-House Director of Marketing and Communications at…oh, God…Casella Computers. Technically, I’m the only one in the department, but the title works for me.

  It was all I could get without a reference, since I obviously couldn’t give out Pruscilla’s name. And although they don’t pay for employees’ gym memberships, the insurance package, which kicks in after three months, will reimburse me for up to eighty percent of my therapy costs. Which is a good thing, since it looks like Dr. Shloff and I will be getting to know each other pretty well.

  Bruce was very happy for me when I filled him in on things, although Mom had probably told him everything already. Still, he listened politely to all the details, and even said that he’d like to take me out to celebrate. Instead of sounding too eager and pressuring him into setting a date, I casually told him to give me a call when he had a free evening. It was brilliant.

  But Morgan was somewhat less receptive. She thought it was a terrible idea for me to get a job through Albert, although I thought I heard a hint of relief in her voice.

  “I’ll be out of your hair before you know it!”

  “Yeah, that’s great, Evie. But don’t take a shitty job on my account—I don’t care if you stay for another six years.”

  “I can just see it…you, me and Billy, living happily ever after.”

  “Joke all you want, I know you’d love that—you’d get to see him in his boxers all the time, you’d accidentally walk in on him in the shower in the mornings….”

  “Shut up!” I shrieked. She was still convinced that I wanted him. But I had no interest in another woman’s man. Except maybe Daphne’s.

  “Methinks the lady doth protest too much….” she laughed. “Don’t worry, Evie. Billy and I aren’t setting a date any time soon—we plan to have a really long engagement. I think that’s enough for now.”

  “That’s absurd. What’s the point if you don’t plan to get married?” I said, wishing I’d thought of that last year.