Him

by Cecilia Scott

  ‘No, it makes you soar,’ I corrected him.

  ‘It does both. Miranda has been very understanding through all of this. For what it’s worth, I couldn’t get out of bed for days after that episode at your house.’

  ‘Neither could I.’

  THE BOY finally looked at me. ‘Oh, my beautiful broken Goddess. I’m gonna have to let you go. Don’t try to contact me. Sam will know what I’m up to. Drop that sleazy lawyer boyfriend. He’s the worst thing that ever happened to you.’

  And then THE BOY stood up and walked away. I want to attest that the colours dimmed then. Everything seemed grey. I watched people walking in and out of the store but they made no sense to me. Why did anyone even bother to wake up in the morning? I didn’t see the point. Why did we strive and for what?

  19

  Sam attempts to intervene by reading me the riot act …

  There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

  Friedrich Nietzsche

  Sam came over the following evening to check up on me. We sat on my couch sipping our beers. I know I looked horrible, having not really got out of bed all day. I hadn’t even washed my face or brushed my hair. I wore an old pair of jeans and a torn up T-shirt.

  ‘I love you,’ he said, cutting to the chase. ‘You know that. You’re like a daughter to me. But you’ve really, really fucked up this time. I mean, I’m not sure where to even start.’

  ‘I don’t recall asking for your advice.’

  ‘Who gives a shit, and you know I never swear, you’re gonna hear it.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘First of all, your relationship with HIM is pure torture. He comes to see you on a whim. He buys you expensive jewellery and takes you to five-star hotels to appease you, but he’s not right for you. He’s not right for anyone. I hate men like HIM. They wield their money and power around and vulnerable women like you get caught in the crossfire.’

  ‘Thank you, Sigmund Freud.’

  ‘It doesn’t take Freud to figure that one out. Any idiot could see it. But then, to add insult to injury, you add a susceptible young man, THE BOY, into the picture and the poor kid can’t see straight. You’ve obviously given him the lesson of a lifetime regarding how to have sex with a woman, but you did it without any regard for his feelings. How could you not see that? I could. I spent hours trying to soothe him. He knew he was in over his head.’

  ‘I’m glad you and THE BOY became friends.’

  ‘That’s not the point. You had no right whatsoever to embroil him in your neurotic unrequited love affair with HIM, but that’s exactly what you did.’

  ‘That’s not fair. I had a great time with THE BOY regardless.’

  ‘But you just threw him away the moment HIM turned back up.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So what are you going to do now that you’re taking time off from work?’

  ‘I’m going to spend as much time with HIM as possible.’

  ‘And he agreed to that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you have no intention of speaking to THE BOY?’

  ‘I met him at Starbucks.’

  ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘He’s been talking to his ex. Apparently she’s coming home for the holidays.’

  ‘Did you suggest you stay friends with THE BOY?’

  I gave Sam a weak smile. ‘He said no.’

  ‘Well, he’s saner than you are,’ Sam said.

  He stood up abruptly and started walking toward the door. ‘I’ll sit with THE BOY and try to console him. But it’ll be a long time before I will respect you again. You’ve more than disappointed me.’

  I ran after Sam but at the same time the phone rang. I looked at the number. It was HIM. HIM. Sam let himself out of my duplex.

  20

  HIM, HIM, Oh, My God, HIM

  Love, she felt, ought to come all at once, with great ... thunderclaps and flashes of lightning; it was like a storm bursting upon life from the sky, uprooting it, overwhelming the will, and sweeping the heart into the abyss.

  Gustav Flaubert, Madame Bovary

  For the next several weeks it was all about HIM. HIM. He came to see me regularly at my duplex. I became Susie Homemaker. I made elaborate meals. He would bring flowers and a bottle of wine. The sex continued to be exquisite.

  We’d both remarked that Esme was getting more and more pregnant. It would only be a couple more weeks until she gave birth.

  I’d had a key made for him so he could enter my duplex on his own. I’d wait for HIM on my bed wearing a sexy negligee. He’d come to me with such urgency. He stopped caring about folding his clothing and threw them across the room. Always, always I was waiting for that moment when he’d be standing in front of me with just his underwear on. He’d come up to the bed, I’d sit on the edge and I’d reach for his underwear. As I removed it, his cock became my focus of attention. I loved his cock so much. He’d quickly remove the underwear completely and then it was just his cock and me. I had to say hello to it. He’d stand at the side of the bed and I’d kiss it. I’d rub it around my face, telling it how much I loved it. I’d draw it all the way into my mouth. Removing my breasts from the negligée I’d greet his cock with them, rubbing them back and forth over it. I’d hold his cock and guide it between my breasts. Soon it was too much for both of us. He’d have to fuck me then. I could never get enough of HIM. Ever.

  21

  Another intervention …

  You and I are like the first two people on earth who at the beginning of the world had nothing to cover themselves with – at the end of it, you and I are just as stripped and homeless. And you and I are the last remembrance of all that immeasurable greatness which has been created in all the thousands of years between their time and ours, and it is in memory of all that vanished splendour that we live and love and weep and cling to one another.

  Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

  And then it was Thanksgiving. My plans to see HIM were disrupted by the holiday. I didn’t even ask HIM where he was going to be. I didn’t dare. I woke up that morning feeling resentful, wanting more than a bedtime companion, more than a lover. I wanted a man to call my own.

  Sam and I were supposed to go to Rebecca’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. I’d baked several pumpkin pies with pumpkins I’d grown in our garden. Before I’d met HIM, bringing the pies had given me great pleasure. Now I felt like going to Rebecca’s was a huge chore.

  I missed my mother. I missed HIM. Holidays seemed only to be about longing for what you couldn’t have. My mother was dead. And HIM. He was missing in action.

  Sam and I drove over to Rebecca’s home in the late afternoon. She greeted us holding her baby. We cooed over her daughter. There was hope here in Rebecca’s home. Her husband and parents beamed. Yet I could not focus, unable to let go of the images of what he would have been doing to me if it weren’t a holiday. Sam and Rebecca shared a look. I knew they were concerned about me. They were my closest friends – of course they’d want what was best for me. My current man was not what was best for me, we all knew that, but I wasn’t ready yet to let go of HIM.

  I didn’t know if I could ever say goodbye. I was lost in an erotic haze of his and my own making. It didn’t matter that I’d have to endure time away from HIM. He’d come back; he always came back for more. And I was always ready for HIM. Even now, sitting with Rebecca’s family, I could recall his touch.

  Rebecca took me aside. ‘Listen, I have to tell you, Jake called about an hour ago. Apparently he came to visit his parents and wanted to stop over here for a moment.’

  ‘That’s great. I’d love to see him. Twice in one month. Wow. Is he bringing his wife over here?’

  ‘No. I think she’s staying at his folks’ house with the kids.’

  ‘Well, great. It’ll be easier to see him without her.’

  Jake appeared several minutes later. Everyone was happy to see him. I looked at him and wondered what it would have
been like if we had got married. He was a genuinely bright and funny guy, and kind too, but I’d pushed him away once my mother got sick, and he had moved on.

  Jake was talking a mile a minute to everyone. It was like the old times when he and I had been together. I couldn’t stop wondering what my life would have been like if I had stayed with him.

  Then Jake came over to me. ‘Hey, how about you and I take a little stroll out to the backyard? Would love to touch base with you.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, although I felt like I was about to be executed.

  I followed Jake through the house. Once in the yard, we sat down at a wooden picnic table. We faced one another. Jake didn’t waste any time.

  ‘Anything new on the relationship front?’ he asked. ‘You still look like shit.’

  ‘Fuck you very much.’

  ‘The guy is a bona fide asshole. Where is he today, anyway?’

  ‘With his kids.’

  ‘Well, isn’t that grand?’

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘What happened to Junior?’

  ‘Junior?’

  ‘THE BOY.’

  ‘Well, I was caught in a compromising position with THE BOY. I didn’t expect HIM to come over. THE BOY left and that’s the end of the story. I’ve taken medical leave from the college so I don’t have to see THE BOY.’

  ‘That’s quite a story. Thanks for being so honest about it. Sam really liked THE BOY.’

  ‘Yes. They still see each other.’

  ‘So why didn’t you stay with THE BOY?’

  ‘Um. He was great. But he’s only twenty years old.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘He’s a boy. I need to be with a man,’ I sighed.

  ‘But you kind of just dismissed THE BOY as soon as your mystery man showed back up.’

  ‘You’re right. But can we change the subject? You’re kind of acting like the judge and the jury. It was really hard. I really cared for THE BOY.’

  ‘Hey, I’m on your side. I always have been.’

  ‘I am perfectly aware of that.’

  ‘It’s just that when we were together, the relationship we had just flowed. You’re selling yourself way too short with this guy.’

  ‘Duh.’

  ‘Well, why? What on earth is going on?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain. I just can’t get myself out of it.’

  ‘You were never this dreary when we were together. You know that with us it all just fell into place.’

  ‘Yes, but don’t you remember? Our best friends were married to each other? Of course it would make sense we’d hook up.’

  ‘I would’ve stayed with you. You know that.’

  ‘I just couldn’t think straight once my mom got sick.’

  ‘Yes. But I would’ve stood by you during that time.’

  ‘I know that. So what are you trying to say?’

  ‘You screwed up.’

  ‘Well, again, fuck you very much. Besides, now it’s too late.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jake said. ‘Now I have a wife and kids. But I will stand by you. You get that, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course, I’ll keep that in mind.’

  ‘So why can’t you leave HIM?’ Jake asked again.

  ‘I can’t. The sex.’

  ‘So sex with HIM is better than it was with me?’

  ‘Stop it. It’s like comparing apples to oranges.’

  ‘Maybe bananas to zucchinis?’

  ‘Stop being funny.’

  ‘No, really,’ Jake said. ‘What is it about the sex with this guy?’

  ‘I can’t explain.’

  ‘Try.’

  ‘It was different with you. We were friends.’

  ‘So this guy is not your friend?’

  ‘No. He is not my friend.’

  ‘But you would drop everything to be with HIM. Rebecca told me about how he promised to move you down near HIM. Ha. Don’t hold your breath.’

  ‘He’s told me repeatedly that he wants me to live closer to HIM.’

  ‘It’s all bullshit.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I’m a guy. Remember?’

  ‘OK. OK. So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Beats me. I just want you to look at what you’re doing. You’re saying you’re having sensational sex with a guy who is not your friend and you’re willing to put your own life on hold on the off-chance he’ll be true to his word when in fact he’s rarely available to you.’

  ‘He’s got a very important job. His ex-wife is demented. He wants to be available to his children. They’re teenagers.’

  ‘Wow. He’s a damn good businessman. He sold you on this story?’

  ‘He’s a lawyer.’

  ‘Great. Wow. I am impressed,’ Jake said sarcastically.

  ‘Would you kindly fuck off? Maybe you and I are no longer together because you were too much of an asshole.’

  ‘You know that’s not the truth. You know it.’

  ‘Sure. You were great.’

  ‘She said with great enthusiasm.’

  ‘Yeah. Great enthusiasm. No, really, I do appreciate you. I do,’ I said.

  ‘OK, so do me a favour. Unload the guy. I care about you. I’ll always have your back.’

  ‘So can we go back inside now?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure. I gotta get back to Mom and Dad’s anyway.’

  Jake stood up. As he bent down to hug me, I wanted to cry. My eyes were burning as he let go of me. We smiled at each other before he turned away.

  I took out my cell from my purse. There were times when I loved my cell, yet at other times it was my enemy. I stared at the screen willing HIM to text me. On the sliding scale of relationships we didn’t have one. We were fuck buddies or friends with benefits.

  I knew I was compromising myself with HIM. It didn’t matter. I was too far gone. I was like Scarlett O’Hara: I’d think about it tomorrow. I didn’t expect my love affair with HIM to last. I was sure he’d leave me. Why wouldn’t he? There were a myriad beautiful women who were more put together than I was. I was too edgy. I wouldn’t have been able to play the part of the perfect wife. He didn’t want to marry me – he just wanted to fuck me. The promises were just promises: promises to be broken, promises made in thin air, promises made to a lonely and vulnerable woman who lacked the strength to leave HIM.

  I envied his ex-wife. How could I not? Even if their marriage ended in divorce, he had been her husband for many, many years. He’d proposed to her. They had walked down the aisle. He’d been with her during the birth of their children. He would have gone to his kids’ school events with her. When they were young newlyweds he’d have called her before he left the office. He had already played the domestic card with someone else. I was getting what was left over.

  I’d look at my cell and will it to vibrate. If only he’d text me. Sometimes I’d turn the phone off completely. I’d tell myself to not look at the clock. I would try to get through an afternoon or evening without checking for messages. I was thrilled when I had to turn it off if I went to a movie or concert. I was also free of it during my classes at the college, as instructors had been told they had to turn their phones off while teaching. Yet often I’d find myself lunging for the phone while students were still lingering after a class had ended.

  I was a fool for love. I knew it. I wanted HIM so badly and I hated it. I just needed HIM to be fucking me. I loved it. Always, always I’d imagine his naked body walking toward me. I loved his cock. I craved his come like a madwoman. I knew I’d gone over the edge and I didn’t know how to find my way back. I was gone; just gone.

  I understood my vulnerability. I did. I never questioned much of anything before my mother’s illness and subsequent death. I skated through high school and college. I was a straight-A student and received a scholarship to one of the best universities in the city for my undergraduate and graduate degrees. I could’ve gone on for a doctorate but I took the job at the junior college after my master’s degree. I always thought I wo
uld go back for the PhD but life got in the way.

  It really had been just my mom and me. My father was a non-issue. She never spoke about him. I had no idea who he was or where he was. I didn’t have the urge to find him. My mother was all I needed.

  Anyone who has sat vigil for a loved one in a hospital knows what I am talking about. There is a moment when the doctors and nurses tell you that there is no hope. It was just a matter of time. And I watched as my mother made her exit, slipping farther and farther away from me. I bargained with a God I did not believe in that she’d experience some sort of miracle. But she did not. She died. I argued with myself: if only I had held on tighter, she’d still be with me. And then she was gone. And even with Sam and Rebecca holding me, clutching me, there was still the finality: she was gone.

  When I reflect on my mother’s death I think about those beach houses that are built on stilts. When my mom died, one of the stilts was removed. How on earth was I supposed to stay standing when I no longer had the foundation?

  I understood that we need the sense of belonging. It is inherent in human nature. While my mother was alive I didn’t need anyone else. Jake came along and just added to the equation. I was never lonely. I didn’t have the inner resources, not really, to be on my own. This is why I was so vulnerable to HIM. In a way I was naïve. I just assumed our relationship would blossom like mine had done with Jake. You fell in love; your lives were joined. There was no other way. And even though I’d had my share of one-night-stands after my mother died, I was sure it would be different with HIM. HIM. The man of my dreams; the man who made love to me over and over. Certainly there would be a future with HIM. We’d get past his busy schedule and his responsibilities with his children. It would just unfold because we both wanted it. We both needed it. It was just a matter of time.

  This is what I know: I regretted breaking up with Jake. I lamented it then. I still had misgivings about it even now. But I couldn’t deal with him after my mother got sick. I stopped thinking straight on the day she told me that her gynaecologist was concerned about her mammogram. Once the diagnosis was confirmed and my mom began the treatment, I was a basket case. I couldn’t handle it when Jake asked me the simplest questions: what should we have for dinner? Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night? It all just seemed too much. How could I talk to him about the minor details of a life together when my mother was dying? Ironically Jake would’ve stood by me the entire time. He had the capacity to do so. I wouldn’t have had to tell him how to be with my mom: he was a natural around everyone. He loved her. The feeling was mutual. But I pushed him away, and then even farther, and finally I just said, ‘Leave.’ And he did.