by Mara White
“Hey, Sarah. Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Want any gin with your ice? I do!”
“Can’t. Could use it though.”
“They got you on transdermal? You can surf with those on, you know?”
I hear Sarah and Jaylee’s voices fade as they pass the bathroom on their way to the kitchen. Robert opens the bathroom door and looks down at me with his hands on his hips.
“You okay?”
“No!”
Robert sighs, looking tired. I notice the grey in his hair and the stress lines around his eyes. I’m acting like a child and it’s exhausting to him. I don’t care. I’m so angry at him and I’m not even sure why.
“How come I can’t just have an affair like a normal person. How come you have to be best friends with my lover and bring him over to the house. Are we going to have a threesome? It’s fucking crazy, Robert and it’s weird and creepy. You’re a creep! You’re trying to control everything again!”
“We’re certainly not friends, Kate. Jaylee agreed not to press charges, which was necessary considering the legal conundrum that we’re all involved in – thanks to you, I might add. Oh, and thank you for calling security, a nice touch on your part.”
“You were smashing his face in and he’s defenseless!”
“Poor, defenseless, Jaylee. Exactly. Because he’s the victim in all of this, isn’t he? The officers agreed to drive us back to the same neighborhood, because that is where we live, my dear. And on the way over, your boyfriend brokered a deal with me.”
I stand up and glare at Robert. I have the urge to punch him in his smug face. He always thinks he’s better than me. He’s always talking down to me. I feel like punching Jaylee too.
“You two can’t broker deals about me. This is my life and I’m a fucking independent entity. I decide what I’m going to do – not you two! You can’t negotiate deals about a person, Robert. I’m not property! You’re not litigating! Go away and leave me alone!”
“Who said our deal had anything to do with you?” Robert turns on a dime, loosening his tie and I hear his dress shoes click above me up the wooden stairs. I turn around to the toilet and empty my stomach of what now looks like bile into the bowl. I wash my face with cold water and brush my teeth. I don’t feel like facing Jaylee. The few moments I had with him were so perfect, maybe we should just leave it at that. I don’t even want to know what their stupid deal was. I hate men.
I push through the swinging door into the kitchen to find Sarah seated at the eat-in table, another martini clasped in her hand.
“Where’s Jaylee?” I ask quickly surveying the kitchen.
“Left out the back door, Great. In a hurry.”
“I didn’t even get to see him.”
“Yeah, he didn’t look so good.”
I notice an empty shot glass sitting next to Sarah’s bottle of gin.
“Tell me you didn’t give him a shot.”
“I did, the guy needed it,” she says shrugging.
“A two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar shot, Sarah!” I scream.
“Relax, Pollyanna! Think I don’t know how to work a transdermal SCRAM? I fucking married a pro surfer. They monitor twice an hour through alcohol vapors. You just stick a gel band-aid on the seal and rip it off within a half hour of drinking.”
“Oh, and you just happen to carry around gel band-aids?”
“No, but Jaylee had some on his hip. Booyah!” Sarah says discharging an imaginary gun at me. “And I loved every second of peeling it off that gorgeous hip.”
“I’m going to kill you, Sarah, as soon as I’m done killing Robert and Jaylee. What’d he say to you?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘Tell my girl I love her,’ yes he said love, Great, ‘and I’ll see her tomorrow.’ End quote.”
I stand there and a stupid grin kidnaps my face. It spreads until it hurts. Sarah grins back at me and raises her glass in the air.
“Cheers! I told you your life was awesome. I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow.”
I turn around slowly, my face still captive to a euphoric smile.
“I’m going to go upstairs now to take my goddamned shower. Keep the covers turned down for me, cause I think I’ll be sleeping with you tonight.”
Sarah and I lay awake in bed and compose a plan for tomorrow that includes sightseeing with the kids and lunching out at Sarabeth’s in an attempt to reestablish some normalcy. Despite Sarah enjoying the excitement, I’m ready to implode from the stress of it all, and I don’t want my girls to bear any of the burden from my emotional turmoil. I also want them to enjoy their last day with Aunt Sarah and Joshua.
Robert, Sarah, and I have coffee in the kitchen in the morning and Robert acts as if nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. The only hint that he’s angry with me is that the majority of his banter is directed at Sarah. He’s so determined to keep up the facade that his performance is making me feel like I’ve lost my mind. He runs his fingers through my hair and kisses me goodbye on the lips without ever alluding to last night’s freak show. As usual not a hair is out of place and his suit and tie look impeccable. Sarah, on the other hand looks like her eyes will pop out of her head as she watches the sham and I’m careful not to make eye contact with her directly because I’m afraid I’ll lose it. The second Robert’s out the door Sarah has a mouthful of opinions about his behavior.
“What the fuck was that, Great? That was straight-up psycho!”
“I don’t know. I think maybe Robert can’t deal with this and his defense mechanism is denial. I can’t tell what’s going on with him. You know what’s really scary?”
“What?’
“Today’s Sunday, Sarah. He doesn’t have to work. I have no idea what he’s up to.”
“Holy shit, you’re right! What do you think he’s doing?”
“Maybe he’s going to lawyer up for a divorce?”
“More likely to meet Jaylee. Those two are gonna elope, I swear.”
“The therapist said Robert might insert himself into the relationship – the affair – in order to maintain some relevance.”
“More likely, he’ll insert his dick into someone else for some relevance.”
“Sarah, you may very well be the most crass person on the planet.”
“I almost said snatch, but I’m keeping it classy just for you, princess.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly.
“I’m gonna go smoke. You want one?”
“Gross. I’m going to get the girls ready. Is Joshua up yet?”
I’m helping the girls get dressed when Sarah walks into Pearl’s room and passes me an envelope. She must have found it on the front porch when she went outside. There is no address or stamp, just my first name written across the front. I quickly fold it in half and stuff it into my back pocket. Sarah raises an eyebrow at me and says nothing. I don’t have to open it to know who it’s from. Sarah takes Ada downstairs to help her get her shoes and jacket on while I braid Pearl’s hair.
When we’re out of earshot of the kids, riding the Staten Island Ferry so that Joshua can get a look at the Statue of Liberty, Sarah prods me about the letter. It’s been weighing a thousand emotional tons sitting in my back pocket. I don’t have to read it to know what it says.
“Did you even look at it?’
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
“Not today.”
“Do you think it’s bad news?”
“No, I think it’s goodbye. And I can’t read it now because I want to enjoy my last day with you. If I read it I’ll fall apart. I’ll be out of commission for God only knows how long.”
“What if it’s not goodbye? What if it’s roses and I love yous and slam poetry about your butt?”
I smile in spite of the suffocating sadness the unread letter is threatening.
“It’s goodbye, Sarah, and I don’t have the heart to take it right now.”
“Okay, suit yourself. I don’t know how you have the self
control.”
We pack in Chinatown, Little Italy, and finally head uptown to do a run-through of the Met. Joshua’s bought ten ‘I heart NY’ t-shirts with plans to silkscreen surf logos onto them when he gets back home.
“Unless your father’s run the surf shop into the ground while we were away. I don’t doubt it. Teddy’s spent too many years in direct sunlight.”
“Mom, I’m sure Dad is fine without you. He’s got the sitter there to help him,” Joshua says.
“Joshy, I haven’t told you this yet, but the way it works is that your mom raises you your entire life and then you go off to college and, give or take a few years, you get a new mom and that one you call your wife. Right, Kate? Back me up here.”
“Um. I wouldn’t really call myself Robert’s mom.”
“Don’t listen to Kate. So this wife-mom then takes care of you until she dies. That’s a true story, Joshy. Unless, of course you get a husband – then he would be your mom-husband.”
“God, Mom. I’m not gay!” Josh says loud enough to turn everyone’s head, as the hostess leads our bedraggled crew to a booth in the back.
“How is it that they always know who to seat in the back?”
“It’s the kids,” I say. “We’ve always been relegated to the table by the bathroom door in any restaurant ever since the girls were born.”
“Ever bring Jaylee here?” Sarah leans in and asks quietly.
I’m guessing she’s referring to the color of his skin or maybe the way he dresses. This definitely isn’t his scene.
“This is New York City, Sar. Anyone can go anywhere looking however they damn well please. It’s what’s in the wallet that matters, not necessarily the outward appearance.”
“Yeah, um somehow I doubt they would be scrambling to get him and his friends a table like they just did for us. ”
“It’s not Arizona.”
“The guy’s wearing a SCRAM!”
“Okay, I get your point.”
We order our lunch and go way overboard as usual. It’s enough to feed a group double our size. Sarah steered clear of the booze so I’m guessing she’s shaping up to go back home and make her return to responsible adulthood.
“Hey, can I ask you the dumbest white lady question ever?”
“Why, Sarah, it’s never stopped you before,” I say smiling.
“Cute, Great, cute. I’m serious. Are Dominicans black?”
Joshua chokes on the lemonade he’s drinking.
“God, Mom! You’re like a walking embarrassment! Didn’t you grow up in New York? Hello? The Yankees, ARod?”
“I grew up on Long Island, Joshua, and the Upper East Side! This is my first time even seeing Washington Heights! See, Great, not only do they get cooler, but smarter too! Is it really that stupid of a question? I’ve never been there! How am I supposed to know?”
“Boricua, Morena, Dominicano, Colombiano!” Pearl sings bobbing her head up and down and bouncing on the booth cushion. Ada tries to join in the hook as well pronouncing all the words wrong.
“Okay, Lourdes Leon, everyone’s in the know, except for me. Hispanophiles. How is it the same island as Haiti but a different race of people?”
“They’re mixed race, for the most part, Sar. It’s not stupid, a lot of people don’t know. They’re descended primarily from West African slaves and the Spanish. There’s some other European ancestry and a tiny bit of Native Indian in there as well. The Taínos were almost entirely annihilated during the conquest though.”
“See, Joshua, a simple question. Thanks, Professor Champion.”
“They don’t really self-identify as black because of anti-Haitianism and the racial persecution during the Trujillo regime. You should read about that dictatorship, Sarah. It would blow your mind! I’ve actually never been there either, we should go!”
“Okay, that’ll be our next trip. Sans rugrats.”
I can’t help thinking that I’d never want to go to D.R. with Robert. It would only feel right to go there with Jaylee. Now that his entire future hangs in the hands of the penal system, I’ll probably never get that chance.
Robert isn’t there when we arrive and there’s no indication that he’s been home all day. It makes me anxious, but I’m also grateful, as I don’t want to spend my last night with Sarah in a mess of tension and anger. Robert and I have plenty of time to destroy each other after our guests leave.
Ada falls asleep, exhausted from a long day and Joshua and Pearl settle onto the couch to watch a movie as Sarah and I take to the kitchen.
“Do you want a cocktail?” I ask.
“My liver’s shot from this trip. All your fault. You’re such a bad influence.”
“You had your Dad believing that all through high school didn’t you? But really, Sarah, I think it was the other way around.”
“My Dad only let me hang out with you because he knew you were smart. You were the bad one, hands down. How is it that my parents practically went broke sending me to Spence and Columbia and you got smarter and smarter while I was always just barely hanging on?”
“It doesn’t matter that we had the exact same education. Two factors. Blonde hair and big boobs, Sarah.”
Sarah makes a face at me and goes to the fridge and pulls out a couple of pints of ice cream. She grabs two spoons out of the silverware drawer and piles it all in front of me.
“I’m serious, Sarah. There’s no empirical evidence that shows that brunettes are smarter however there is plenty of evidence that boys were always wild for you and it was totally distracting. You had those tits at eleven.”
“You had that mouth at eleven. Speaking of wild boys and distractions . . . let’s read the letter.”
“No!”
“Give it to me, I’ll read it!” Sarah says grabbing for my pocket. She’s quicker than I am and has it in her hands before I get a second to defend myself.
“I’m not kidding you, I’m going to be sick with grief if I look at that thing.”
“No you’re not. I’m convinced it isn’t what you think it is. I’ll read it first to make sure.”
“I’m not as strong as I may appear to be. Especially when it comes to Jaylee.”
Sarah opens the envelope and pulls out a piece of paper. She unfolds it slowly staring me down. Her eyes dart back and forth as she scans it and my heart feels like a caged animal trying to escape my chest. Her eyes light up a couple of times and the hint of a smile appears on her face. She clears her throat at the end, folds up the paper and stuffs it back inside the envelope. She slides it across the table to me with one finger.
“What’s it say?” I plead.
“Read the damn thing!”
“I can’t!”
“Well, it’s not a goodbye. Not yet, at least,” Sarah says looking mischievous.
“Oh God, I can’t. How’s the composition?”
“You would want to know that wouldn’t you? It’s fine. It’s almost eloquent.”
“What about the grammar?”
“Um, I’d give it a fair to poor rating. Better than I expected.”
“Yeah, well keep in mind English isn’t his first language. What’s it say, Sarah? I can’t take it!”
“It’s a proposition. For sex. Tonight.”
“You lie!” I say gasping in surprise. “Tonight?” I glance at the clock and see it’s already after 6PM.
“Read the fucking letter, Great!”
“You read it to me.”
Sarah snatches the letter back and opens it noisily. She unfolds the paper and clears her throat to begin.
“Kay,
Yeah, I’m writing you a letter. Close your mouth and get over it. Yeah, I can write.
The reason I’m writing you is that I need to ask you something and I know you’re gonna be pissed so I figure the only way to get you to hear me out is like this.
First, the pissed part. I made a deal with your man so that I can be with you tonight. Before you go bat-shit crazy, I want you to know that it was my only c
hoice. See, you and him got to decide how you want things to go from here on out. Me, I got to decide shit. If I could have one thing in the whole fucking universe it would be you. That’s why I did it. Because I would do ANYTHING to be able to have you. I know you feel like it’s not letting you make your own choices. I know it probably makes you feel like you felt when Robert gave me the money and I bought the jet ski. I know too, like I said when we first met that you deserve better than me (BTW, I’m not saying that you deserve Robert, but at least he fights for you now, he got your back, he takes care of the chiquis, etc, etc)
Yeah, Kay, am I like the soldier going to war who uses it as a card to get laid? Sure. I’m going to jail. With the bail we can pretend that it ain’t gonna happen but it is. I want to be with you before I go. You’re the only thing I want on the outside, and you’re gonna be the only thing I think about on the inside. I feel like every time we fucked-”
“I love how he just says ‘fucked,’ I wish Teddy would say ‘fucked’ to me.”
“Keep reading!”
Sarah takes a giant bite of ice cream and turns the spoon pulling it slowly out of her mouth upside-down. She clears her throat again.
“I feel like every time we fucked – I messed up. I did something wrong every time and it’s because there was always too much riding on it. I never cared about anyone like I do you and I didn’t know how to act. So tonight I want to fuck you the right way. The right way means how you want to be fucked – all the shit you said – about me being emotionally present, all of that. I can do that. I’m your man.
Last night when you told me you loved me it was the best moment of my life. The Best. Nothing beats that. Nothing ever gonna beat that.
I guess I better put a second in here cause I started with a first. The second part is that I don’t want you to worry about the deal. It’s not anything you need to know or think about so if you can, you should just let it go. Don’t ask Robert. Just accept it. That’s gonna be hard, because you know what, Negra? – you like to be in charge! Just leave that in the past and we go forward from here.