Justin grinned at his nephew, “How’re you doing, little Ninja?”
“Great. But you don’t look good.”
“No. Some bad guys beat me up and I had no Ninja to rescue me.”
“Too bad,” Goyo said, before he took a big bite of his French toast.
“You look rested, anyway,” Elise said.”
“I slept well. First time in a week. Now, I’m starved. Is that a good sign? Anyway, I’d like a mushroom omelet.”
Elise got up to comply with her brother’s request. “I may not make it like Mom does, but that’s all you’ll get.”
“Not to worry. I can always douse it with ketchup. Or, swallow it whole.” He grinned at his sister. He was feeling almost like his old self again.
Greg said in a low voice, “She asked Bob to get those mushrooms last night. I think your sister is bent on getting you back in a good mood.”
“I’ll be sure to gush over it, then,” Justin whispered.
“You’re sounding more like the Justin I know and you’re looking a little better. Your face isn’t so black and blue anymore.”
“Yes, my body heals fast,” Justin said. He smiled, but the next instant, he scowled and thought, sadly, I wish my heart did, too.
Greg said, “Did you want to have that talk sometime today?”
“Yes, maybe soon after lunch. I feel good right now, and I wanna make the most of it. I know it won’t last. Can I borrow Bob this morning? Ask him to drive me to the coast?”
“We can all go, make it a family thing. I’ll drive.”
“I’d like to be alone for a few hours.”
“I see. Not a problem. When do you want to go?”
“How about right after breakfast?”
“Okay. I’ll go tell Bob right after breakfast. Or, I can call him now on his cell phone.”
*****
Less than a couple of hours later, Justin got out of the car with Bob’s help. A nippy ocean breeze chilled his face and he was thankful he wore a light leather jacket over his sweater. He gazed out at the ocean and at the line of benches facing it, behind the safety of a low concrete barrier.
“I’ll go sit on one of those benches.”
Bob said, “Let me help you. You can lean on me.”
“No need. I can make it. Go somewhere you want and please come back for me in about two hours.”
“Are you sure? Elise asked me to keep an eye on you.”
Justin chuckled. “You mean babysit me? I’ll be all right. I never expected my little sister to act like my mother.”
Bob shrugged. But he did not budge from where he stood.
Justin stepped toward the bench with his good foot. He took another step with his right foot. A stab of pain sliced through it and he suppressed a yelp of pain. After the third, he called Bob back. He glanced at the older man’s kind face.
“You’re right. I need your help. This confounded pavement is harder than Greg’s concrete floor.”
“It’s rough and uneven,” Bob said. With an arm at his waist, he led Justin slowly to the second bench.
“Thank you, Bob. I’ll be okay from here. You don’t need to tell my sister I sent you away.” Justin laid his crutch on the bench and sat down.
Bob smiled. “I never lie to Elise. She’ll see through me. Besides, she never gives you a reason to lie to her.”
Justin grinned. “Does my sister know you worship her?”
“Not like Greg does. He’s crazy in love with his wife.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I don’t want any less for my sister.” He paused, and with a wry smile, added, “I was, too, with my girlfriend. But she left me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Halverson.”
“Justin, Bob, Justin. You’ll find me as nice as Greg.”
Bob chuckled as he glanced at his watch. He said. “Justin, you are your sister’s brother. Well, I should leave you to your thoughts. Isn’t that why you asked me to bring you here? I’ll come back for you around noon.”
Minutes later, Justin sat, gazing at the ocean, oblivious of those who had arrived for their weekend recreation. Until a week ago, he and Megan used to be among these people. For several years, they came to this area every Sunday morning to take a leisurely walk, sometimes even when it rained. He couldn’t tell Elise and Greg that it was the reason he wanted to come to this place by himself.
It wasn’t so much that he needed to be alone, or that he hoped to run across Megan taking the same walk with her new lover. She wouldn’t dare. He had a patent—so to speak—on those paths they used to take. He had discovered them and showed them to her.
Last Sunday, he had had no energy to take that walk. On Saturday, Megan had told him they were through. Then, she had packed one large suitcase and left.
He had plunged himself into his work. For days, he had worked, stopping only to push food quickly down his gullet—some edible thing from his refrigerator. Leftovers, frozen dinners, sandwiches from a deli two blocks from his apartment.
At night, he had lain in bed, sliding in and out of sleep. Fitful sleep plagued by one disturbing dream after another. Dreams he hoped he’d never have again. He had awakened from them more tired than when he first lay in bed.
By Thursday, he had been totally drained. He had called his office to tell them he was working from home for the next few days. But by early afternoon, he had turned off his computer, sick of the codes and equations that stared back at him.
He had taken out a bottle of wine, slowly finishing its contents as he watched television. Much later, he had awakened sprawled on the couch. He couldn’t tell when he had dozed off.
The following morning, he had tried to do some work, but he couldn’t concentrate, so he decided to work out at the gym in his apartment complex. He had showered and gone out after that, drifting toward the East Bay, in the vicinity of the hospital where Megan worked as a nurse.
He couldn’t say what he was doing there, but the urge to go in that direction had been too strong for him to resist. As strong as his desire to be where he now sat this morning.
His body ached every time his good foot touched the hard pavement and it was torture walking anywhere farther than a yard, but he wanted to be nowhere else but here, staring out at the endless ocean.
Still, he wondered. Why come where he might run into Megan by accident? Much as he missed her, it would hurt to see her again. Was he punishing himself? He had not broken off the relationship. If anyone was to blame, surely he was not the one. And yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had somehow been amiss in some way. Not given her enough attention. Not spent more time with her. Not loved her enough.
Had he been too absorbed in his own needs to see that Megan’s passions lay elsewhere? The little gestures, the casual remarks, the minor details that might have given him a clue about the “real” Megan—he had been blind to those. The thought annoyed him no end.
Impatiently, Justin picked up his crutch and raised himself on it. He limped toward the concrete wall and stood by it for a minute. It was low enough and wide enough to invite people to sit and watch the rocks five feet below. But not too many people ever did so.
He sat on the wall, laid the crutch on it, and swung his legs over to the edge, where they dangled toward the rocks. He faced the ocean, his back to people passing by, their footsteps and the occasional voices muffled by the sonorous duet of wind and ocean.
For some time, he watched the water lapping on the rocks, black and shiny, molded into sharp edges by centuries of salty water washing on them. They looked as if they could slice through heavy objects. What was it like hitting those rocks? Would one still feel the shock of icy waves that would wash him away after?
How easy it would be to allow himself to fall down those rocks, and let the waves sweep him out into the ocean. That would end all the pain in his body and the misery in his heart.
Misery. This was the first time in the week since the
breakup that he admitted he was miserable. This morning was the first time he began to face head-on what it meant to lose Megan. While he kept busy with work, he avoided dealing with it. But now he was learning he couldn’t run away from it for too long.
Was that why he acted recklessly on Friday night? There were any number of bars or clubs where he could have gone, to drown the misery he was refusing to acknowledge. But he chose to go into a part of town that had a reputation for violence.
The men who assaulted him had been in the bar he had gone into. They had asked him if he was looking for weed, which he was sure they had assumed to be the drug of choice for people like him. When he had shaken his head, one of them had offered him something stronger, something that could make him forget and take him to heights of ecstasy he had never experienced. He had shaken his head again and they had left him alone.
Later, when he had looked around the bar, the three were nowhere to be seen. By then, he had been aware that he was drunker than he had ever been. His head swimming, he had felt like throwing up. He had left the bar, walking in the direction of the parking lot to pick up his car. Somewhere on the way, someone had hit him on the head, and events became a blur.
Justin leaned forward as far as he could go without falling. All he had to do was push himself out with his legs against the wall and he would be splayed on those rocks in less time it would take for a passerby to realize what he was doing. By the time that person screamed and ran to help him, his body would be riding the waves out to the ocean. Goodbye misery, and goodbye, Megan.
Why would she care, anyway? She had made her choice.
But his parents would suffer. His parents―who recently had to cope with Peter’s recent attempt to end his life. He had felt their anguish, that silent cry of helplessness and guilt. And Peter had an excuse—an incurable devastating disease that impaired his thinking. He, Justin, had no such excuse.
But wasn’t a breakup, after seven years, a good enough excuse? He was in pain, not in his brain but in his heart—an organ as vital as the brain.
He stared at the waves, now hitting the rocks so violently that they rose high enough to wet his shoes. He would strike the cruelest blow on his parents, inflicting on them the same tragedy twice. What would it do to his mother to have her second son end his life and through no fault of her own? She was not responsible for Peter’s illness, but she had since been distraught with guilt about it.
What about his sister who was going out of her way to do things she generally did not do or was bad at because she cared for him and couldn’t stand to see him suffer? What about that young woman who risked her life to rescue him from those thugs?
How would it be like for them, gazing at his gray, lifeless, bloated body, probably nibbled by fish in a few parts? Why would he cause grief to people he loved for someone who no longer loved him; maybe, never loved him, the way he’d wanted to be loved?
Justin shuddered. He watched the waves gliding away from the sharp, black rocks. Those edges would surely hurt; never mind the hungry fish. With his hands, he pulled his legs back up over the wall and down on the ground. He grabbed his crutch and got up slowly.
As he walked back to the bench, he saw Bob sitting on it, watching him closely.
“Bob, how long have you been sitting there?”
“About ten minutes. You made a wise decision to get off that ledge,” Bob said without taking his eyes off him.
“Yes, I know. I’m a coward,” Justin said as he sat down next to the older man.
“Or one who loves and knows there are people who love him.”
Justin stared at him for a long time. “Now, I see what Greg and Elise have seen in you. How long have you worked for Greg?”
“About fifteen years. I love Greg like a son and Elise like a daughter. They treat me not only kindly and with respect, but they listen to what I say to them. My sons and his son are like brothers.”
“I take it they come to you for advice.”
“Greg has been known to. Elise asks my opinion and, when she wants another woman’s point of view, she asks my wife Alicia.”
“I see.”
“Are you ready to go home?”
Half an hour later, Bob unlocked the door to the house, opened it wide, and followed Justin into the house. The living area was empty and quiet.
Bob said, “They must be having lunch in the backyard. It’s nice out this afternoon.”
They went out the back sliding door, from where they could see Elise and Alicia sitting on mats on the lawn and Greg kicking balls with the three boys.
*****
A couple of hours later, Elise took Goyo back to the front house for his nap. Bob and his family went into their house in the back, after the children balked at having to stop their ball game. Bob reminded them they had homework and their mother had to make tamales for Thanksgiving.
Greg and Justin stayed on the lawn, talking.
Greg said, “That visit to the coast did you good. You look invigorated.”
“I am. I did a lot of thinking. After Megan left, I kept myself very busy. I guess I didn’t want to think about her, about the fact that she left me. This morning, I finally admitted I’m miserable. I’ve never lost anyone that close to me.”
“I do know what that’s like. But, I’ve been lucky. Elise still loved me and took me back.”
“I actually thought, for a moment, about killing myself.”
Greg peered into his face with worried eyes. But he said nothing.
“Well, I’m still here. I guess I wasn’t brave enough, or desperate enough. Talking to Bob also helped. I didn’t mean to talk to him at all. I had asked him to leave me alone, come back before noon. But it hurt to walk, so I swallowed my macho ego and called him back.”
“Bob is the father I never really had. I couldn’t talk to my own father the way I talk to Bob.”
“I do talk to mine. I’m closer to my mom, though.”
“Maybe, it’s a Freudian thing. Anyway, tell me how you feel now about Megan.”
Justin frowned. “That’s what puzzles me. I think if she had left me for a man, I’d be hurting longer and probably more. I would have taken it as a blow to my manhood.” He chuckled at the thought. “But, I can’t get it out of my head that she left me for a woman. It eats at me like hell.”
“Maybe, you think you should have seen signs she was a lesbian.”
“Well, you see, that’s part of the problem. I can’t imagine her as one. Up to the end, she never showed any signs she found my lovemaking repulsive. My sister, despite her sharp intellect, is very feminine. She’s strong and can go on a verbal mano-a-mano with any man, but you still want to protect her. She draws out the male in you. Well, Megan did that to me.”
“Megan is very pretty, feminine and delicate.”
Justin shook his head. ”But, she isn’t—feminine, that is. Not, if she fell in love with a woman.”
“Maybe, that’s where many of us, men, are wrong. We think women who love other women have a certain distinctive look and act differently. Also remember, some people are capable of loving both sexes. Could Megan be like that?”
“You mean she’s like those who claim they’re bisexual. I think that’s baloney. They either don’t want to admit to themselves what they really are, or they don’t know themselves well enough yet. Megan has had a relationship with this woman for three years. It wasn’t until this woman gave her an ultimatum that Megan was forced to look into herself.”
“So, she started seeing this woman about the time you asked her to marry you?”
“Did my little sister tell you I already asked Megan to marry me?”
Greg smiled, shrugged and said nothing.
Justin said, “Anyway, it seems this woman, a doctor at the hospital she works in, told Megan she wanted commitment. That was several months ago.”
“Have you known about the relationship all these years?”
“Hell, n
o! She’d be out of my life right away. I learned only a couple of weeks ago when Megan had to decide. She said she agonized over it a few months, even talked to a therapist and to the pastor at the church her parents go to, and she isn’t religious at all. I think she told me all that because she thought she would hurt me less. She wanted to soften the blow on me.”
“Well, you like being in control of yourself, of what happens to you. But we’re all like that. The one difference between you and me is I learned my lesson years ahead of you—when a former girlfriend took her revenge. That taught me I can’t control everything.”
“I guess being in control is part of it. I mean, that’s why this breakup hurts me so much. But I still want to understand, at least learn to accept that this woman I lived with for so many years left me for a woman. I never saw that coming.”
“Then prepare yourself to learn to accept rather than understand.”
“But, why couldn’t I have seen signs of it?”
“Maybe, most men wouldn’t. What would you have done if you did?”
“I’d have ended the relationship, for sure. That would have hurt less.” Justin paused, frowning. “But I don’t know. If Megan chose to stay with me, I might have stuck it out. Same thing I’d have done if her other lover was a man and she chose me, not him.”
“But you say you’re hurting less than if she left you for a man. Isn’t that something to be thankful for?”
“I guess so. I’m beginning to feel better already. I think because I finally admitted I was miserable. But now, I also see there’s nothing I could have done about Megan’s choice.”
“Good, you’re on your way,” Greg said. Then, he lapsed into silence.
“Well?” Justin said, after a while. “Any more insights, bro?”
“Nothing wise. Just thinking how we all handle loss in our individual ways, grieve in all kinds of ways. We all go through feeling okay sometimes, but other times, we feel so bad we hurt ourselves or those around us.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“You’re okay today. You could be miserable tomorrow. You and Megan were together a long time, after all.”
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