The Trouble With Eden

by Leslie Pike

  “Things can change.”

  “They can, but I’m not going to keep you in a maybe situation. I love you. That’s true. But I’ll learn to live without you, and you’ll learn to live without me. You deserve a man who can satisfy you. I’m not that man anymore.”

  I start to cry, but it only makes him more uncomfortable so I hold it back.

  “I don’t care what you say. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Please, Bliss. Don’t you realize how this is killing me? I hired someone to stay here for the six weeks I have left on my lease. He’ll be here today. After that, I’ll be out of your life permanently. If you can’t agree to this, I’ll move out and lease another place. So please, for me, leave now.”

  “You can’t be serious. This is what love is. This is what it requires. Sometimes shit happens. Deal with it. Let’s deal with it together. I believe in us.”

  He stands up. “Goodbye, Bliss.”

  He walks to the front door and opens it. So I get up, and go to him. I try to kiss him, but he turns his head. I see his jaw clench.

  I walk out. But it doesn’t mean a thing. No is not an answer I accept.

  STEVEN

  I close the door. I want to run after her, grab her, and tell her I didn’t mean it. But I do mean it. I love her so much, it was necessary.

  Her face. That look killed me. I hurt her, and that’s the one thing I thought could never happen.

  I have to be sure I keep repeating this to myself …”She’s better off without you.” That’s the truth of it.

  Kyle, my hired orderly, will be here soon. That’ll help me stop thinking about her, and us, and what could have been. Time to take a pain pill or two. I know I’m using them for more than pain management, but they seem to dull my emotional ache as well. It’s a temporary fix.

  I’m about to get my breakfast, when there’s knock on the door.

  “Just a minute,” I say, and slowly make my way there.

  I open the door, to find a slight looking guy, with a bad piece on his head.

  “Hi. Kyle?” This flea can’t be the person who’s going to give me a lift up.

  He starts talking, and barely takes a breath between sentences.

  “Hi! Yes, I’m Kyle! And you must be Steven. Glad to meet you,

  Steven!”

  Oh shit. This is “happy guy.” I hate him already.

  “Come in.”

  Kyle walks in, and looks at the lay of the place.

  “What great cottages these are. My Grandmother used to stay in these as a little girl.”

  Then he starts laughing.

  “Of course, that was long before they refurbished them, and declared them historical. And long before she was a grandmother. How long have you been staying here?”

  Just shoot me.

  “Umm, listen Kyle, I have to use the bathroom. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  I had to get out of there and think. What the fuck? This guy isn’t going to work. He’s a talker. A fucking happy talker. What am I going to do? Balls.

  I flush the toilet, just to buy time.

  It’s best I give the poor guy at least a chance. I don’t want it to hurt his future with the company just because he can’t shut up. Maybe he really needs this job. I can always lock myself in my room. I can do anything for six weeks. Almost.

  When I return to the living room, Kyle has taken over in the kitchen. He’s wearing the apron Bliss had hanging on the hook. KISS THE COOK, it reads. He looks ridiculous. Poor guy.

  “Breakfast! What can I make you?” Kyle says.

  “Oh. How about a couple of eggs? Over easy. And a piece of toast. I’ll get my coffee.”

  “Ok! Coming right up.”

  He watches me going to the coffee pot. Then he shakes his finger at me.

  “You know, that’s not good for us,” he says, in a singsong manner.

  And it’s not a question. It’s obviously one of Kyle’s commandments. I’m going to kill myself.

  For the rest of the morning, Kyle and I get things figured out. He’ll be sleeping on the sofa bed. I showed him the drawers in the living room cabinet he could use for his clothes. I emptied a drawer in the bathroom so he could store his toiletries. I have no idea where his hair’s going to land.

  He seems happy with the arrangement. But then again, he seems happy with everything. In the last hour, he’s told me about his six brothers and sister, his favorite pet when he was a kid and why we should never eat genetically modified food.

  I want to yell, “Shut the fuck up!” and stuff that creepy toupee down his throat.

  Instead, I just nod and smile.

  Why was it again that I didn’t want Bliss to help me?

  After a breakfast that tasted like the blandest, unseasoned version of eggs, Kyle runs me through the three back exercises I’m supposed to be doing. I have to admit, the guy is pretty strong though. He got me up out of the chair in one swift move.

  With no bending, twisting or lifting, these can hardly be called exercises.

  But we do them, mostly to shut Kyle up.

  I sit back down in the leather chair to watch TV. As Kyle passes the picture window, I see him smile and wave. He’s waving like a motherfucker.

  “Who’s that?” I say.

  “I don’t know, but she’s very friendly. And very beautiful. Is that a neighbor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why is she sitting in your chair? I think I’ll go talk with her.”

  “No. Don’t do that. What do you mean? She’s in front?”

  “Yeah she’s sitting right here looking at her iPad.”

  I get up and cross to the window. There she is, all bundled up against the cold. There’s a blanket on her lap. A cup of steaming coffee sits on the table next to her. What the hell? She doesn’t look up.

  I go to the door. Kyle follows me.

  “I got this,” I say.

  He backs off and goes about his business.

  Whatever that is.

  I open the door. She looks at me.

  “Hi,” she says.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m Googling something.”

  “I mean here. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to stay here till you let me in. Till you let me in to stay. I want to be the one to help you. The sooner you see that, the better.

  I’m hoping you don’t let me freeze.”

  I just shut the door.

  But I can’t shut her out of my mind. The ghost of her lingers.

  “Is that your girlfriend?” Kyle says from the kitchen.

  “No.”

  I hate the sound of that.

  All day, and into the night, she sits in the chair in front of my cottage. It’s a standoff. Her stubbornness against mine. I closed the shutters around four o’clock, but that didn’t change anything. Kyle’s intrigued by the whole thing, and a little concerned. He keeps peeking out the door peephole.

  “She’s still out there! It’s freezing!”

  “She’s got a blanket.”

  But in reality, I’m worried too. Fuck me. I can tell Kyle thinks I’m a dick. I’m almost certain he’s right.

  So, at nine o’clock, when the fog and mist are thick, and the sea is whipped by the wind, I give in. It’s a good thing too, because Kyle’s about to cry.

  I go to the door, and open it. It’s fucking freezing.

  “Get in here.”

  She gets up, and walks right past me into the cottage. Her face is red and her teeth are chattering.

  There’s no “Good, you came to your senses,” or “I’m freezing!”

  She just comes in.

  Well, that didn’t last long. I held out for half of one day.

  It was an eternity.

  “Hi, I’m Bliss,” she says to Kyle.

  “Hi. I’m Kyle. You must be freezing!”

  “I’m going to shower.”

  Kyle is totally confused. Who is this woman? I can read hi
s mind.

  I look at him and shrug. “It’s complicated.”

  That’s all the explanation he’ll get. I hardly know how to explain it to myself. So he and I sit silently for once in front of the TV. When I hear the water turn off I wait. Pretty soon, I hear the bathroom door open. But Bliss doesn’t come out of the bedroom. I think I heard her get in the bed. My bed. I wait for just a minute or so, then I get up.

  “Goodnight, Kyle. Thanks for your help today.”

  He’s wondering what the hell happened here.

  “Ok. Nighty night. See you in the morning. What do you want for breakfast?”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  And with that, I walk into the bedroom.

  Yep, I was right. There she is, in bed. She’s got the covers up to her chin.

  “I’m getting warm.”

  “I can see that. Bliss, I don’t see how …”

  “Stop that. Get in here, and hold me. Do it because you love me. I know you still do.”

  I look at her, and feel such a sadness for things lost.

  But she smiles, and that alone is healing.

  “We’re not going to think about sex right now. Let’s take the subject off the table. You’re healing. Let’s just be together. I think we’re good at that.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. Don’t give up on us so easily. I did once, and it was a huge mistake. I deeply regret it.”

  And so, I go into the bathroom, put on a pair of pajama bottoms, and come to her side. She doesn’t mention the fact that I never wear pajama bottoms. She knows exactly what I’m hiding.

  When I climb in, she moves against me but not in a sexual way. We fall asleep in a happiness we’ve never felt before. Content only to be in each other’s orbit.

  In the morning, I let Kyle go. I thank him, pay him for six weeks work and have Bliss write a glowing letter of recommendation. I told him my girlfriend had returned from a trip unexpectedly, and she was going to be my nurse. It’s true.

  Every day for the last four weeks, we’ve worked on strengthening my back muscles. We do the exercises and we walk. I think we’ve walked a hundred miles over the last month. And we talk. We talk about everything imaginable. How each feels about things that matter. Politics and religion. Feminism and Cronyism. Sports. Favorite movies. What we’d do if we won the lottery. Big issues, little issues, the serious and the ridiculous. We never run out of things to say to each other. She’s the most interesting woman.

  Taking sex out of our relationship has been the worst thing that ever happened. But it gave us something else. It allowed us to take the time to deeply know each other.

  And every day I find I like her more. But having said that, I still can’t imagine my life without being able to be inside her. She and I were so good at that.

  It’s a motherfucker imagining it’s gone.

  So usually I just take a Vicodin and relax it away. It’s good thing I have my own pharmacy, aka my cousin Tony.

  Doctor Dick cut me off a week after getting out of the hospital.

  Christmas is only a few days away now. Jack and Nicki have returned from their honeymoon, and will be visiting us today. I’ve missed him. Bliss is flitting around the cottage, making sure the tree and decorations look just as she wants.

  We never took Jack and Nicki’s honeymoon picture down. Instead, we spent an afternoon transforming the images into naked Santa and naked Rudolph. We fashioned a tiny penis with a bright red head, attached it to Jack’s image, and made it look like its peeking out from behind the bottle of champagne. Red on the head, like a dick on a dog.

  We laughed the whole time we were making it. Jack wears a bushy white beard and Santa hat. Nicki just has a big red nose. She’s his sexy Rudolph. They’re going to love it.

  Melanie and my dad are on their way too. And Finn has been invited. That was actually my suggestion. Bliss said he’s still upset about the accident. I’m over blaming him, so I’ll fix that today. It’s time to move on.

  It’s the first time I’ve felt like having people here. I’m stronger now. I feel my old self returning, and except for one thing, I’d say I’m ninety percent back. But that one missing part of me, that’s the thing I’m searching for most. I try to make it happen. In the shower I work to make it happen. Lately, I think I feel a distant impulse. A vestige of a familiar itch. But then, nothing. I haven’t told Bliss because I’m afraid she’d want to help me with the effort. No, I would hate that failure. I’ll take the wheel on this one.

  Bliss has been my champion and my protector. She watches over my recuperation like her life depended on it. Heaven help anyone who forgets I’m recovering from back surgery, and tries to hug me. She’s the eye in the sky, observing it all. You know the oil paintings of intimidating Nordic women, carrying spears? That’s Bliss, as she shields her stuntman from harm. Adorable girl.

  The doorbell. Bliss answers.

  “Ho ho ho!”

  Melanie and my dad come in bearing Christmas gifts for us.

  “Merry Christmas!” my dad says.

  I come over and greet our first guests.

  “Melanie. You look great! Merry Christmas.”

  We all exchange gentle hugs and cheek kisses.

  “Hi Dad. Merry Christmas.”

  “Son, it’s so good to see you looking like yourself again.”

  We pour everyone a drink, and get down to our visit. In a few minutes, Nicki and Jack show up, and the Christmas greetings start again. They look like marriage and honeymoons agree with them.

  Crazy happy. They get a good laugh at the picture we created.

  Nicki shows Bliss and Melanie some of her pictures on her phone. “Hope you didn’t take anything you’d regret if someone hacked your phone!” I say.

  That’s all Jack needs. He fills in my dad and Melanie with the Caprice Caper as it’s come to be called.

  He keeps the details to himself, not wanting to implicate the person who was smart enough to do the dastardly deed (Jack’s tech savvy brother-in-law). I know Jack’s sources too well. He’s the guy who builds his own computers. I don’t think finding Caprice’s pictures was particularly difficult for him.

  Then, when that was done, Jack made sure his wedding story was leaked to TMZ on the same day the photos of Caprice were posted on the Internet. He knew they’d connect the two stories in a related piece. Genius, my friend. Evil genius.

  When everyone’s laughing, he puts his pinkie to his lips, and impersonates the Austin Powers villain.

  “And it only cost me, ONE MILLION DOLLARS!!”

  Nicki hits his arm. “No it did not. Quit exaggerating!”

  I’m helping Bliss bring out the appetizers when our final guest arrives. Finn comes in looking a little nervous.

  “Hi all.”

  We all greet him properly.

  “What’ll you have?” I say, motioning to the array of beverages.

  “Right. Just water then, thanks.”

  “Take a seat, Finn. We’ve got some good things to eat,” Bliss says. He sits, and the conversations continue.

  After about an hour, Finn and I find ourselves alone in the living room. The women and Jack are getting dinner together, and the table set. My dad’s in the bathroom.

  Awkward.

  We make small talk for a few minutes, then I decide to just tackle the elephant in the room.

  “So, Finn. Everything healed? Your ribs?”

  “Oh yeah. Those were worse than the burns. But the Irish are good healers. It’s in our genes.”

  “Good. I’m glad, man. You know there’s no hard feelings here, right?”

  “Really? I’m hopin’ that’s true.”

  “It’s true. It was just a fucking accident. Not your fault.” He smiles, and I see him relax for the first time today.

  “How you doin’?” he says.

  “Better. My back is almost normal now. Thank God. I’m ready to get back to work.”

  “Got something lined up?”
r />   “I’ve got a film in Los Angeles next month. Nothing big, but it’ll be a paycheck.”

  “Great.”

  I take a Vicodin from my pants pocket.

  “Thank God for these.”

  I look around for a nonalcoholic drink.

  “You’re a better man than I lad.”

  “Why’s that?” I say.

  He laughs.

  “I was takin’ too many of those, and it deflated my willy. They’re suppressants of the nervous system. I had to stop. A man has his standards you know. But oh, I really loved them for a time. I enjoyed all of the drugs. That was my problem.”

  He laughs at himself, then gets up.

  “I think I’ll check on the cooks. Can I get you some water for that?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  He doesn’t realize the bombshell he just dropped. Will it be Finn who resurrects my sex life? Irony. Pure irony.

  I get up, and toss that pill right in the trash.

  I think that’s hope I feel.

  BLISS

  Christmas has come and gone. It’s odd, that it turned out to be one of my favorites. Maybe because Steven seems to be coming back to life. Mostly. He hasn’t mentioned sex, or the state of his penis. But I haven’t completely given up. Things could still turn around. Sure. I hear my own thoughts, and they lack conviction.

  You can never run away from yourself, no matter how great you are at denial.

  So, I’ve been thinking maybe I’ll approach it from another angle. We’re going to be together for decades, if we’re lucky. He’ll be my sexual partner, even if I’m not his. I want him to care for me, in that way. He’s very good at using his hands and his mouth. Eventually, I’ll expect him to do that. I’m pretty sure he’ll want to do that. I have no idea how that will play out, psychologically, for either one of us.

  I already know for certain his experience is altered.

  Will my experience be altered, not just because the sex acts change, but because I know he’s not feeling pleasure?

  Can it be pleasurable for either of us if it’s so one sided? I don’t know. But pleasure or not, this cannot defeat us.

  It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’ve prepared a feast. We’re staying in, content to just be the two of us. I can’t say I’m happy this year is passing. It was the absolute best year of my life. Because of him. That’s why. All the other wonderful gifts that swirled around me are just the extras. And all the negative outcomes, just things we can learn to deal with. It has all lead us to another level of devotion. And isn’t that the root of love?