by Jason Starr
“Because I’m taking care of you,” Simon said.
Simon took deep breaths, trying to stay in control.
After Subway for lunch, it was too late to make the library reading. Okay, so this day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but at least there hadn’t been any major meltdowns or poop disasters so far. Baby steps.
At the playground in Riverside Park, coincidentally Jeremy’s friend Matthew was there with, Simon thought, a new babysitter. Simon had seen Matthew with his mom in neighborhood playgrounds and a couple of times with a different, blond babysitter. This babysitter had long straight dark hair and seemed to be Mexican or Puerto Rican. She was young, maybe twenty-five, and was sitting alone on a bench.
As the kids played, Simon stood and nodded and smiled at her a few times, politely acknowledging her presence, and then he decided to sit down next to her.
“I’m Simon,” he said.
She squinted, as if not understanding him right away, then in a thickly accented voice said, “Bianca.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
He made comments like “The weather has been so nice lately” and “The kids play so well together.” Bianca smiled politely, didn’t say much, but Simon got the sense she was being shy, not rude. She got a call on her cell and had an animated conversation in Spanish. Meanwhile, Simon, almost unconsciously, checked his e-mail. No messages from Tom, Joe, or anyone else from work; just a note from a headhunter he’d contacted that began, Thank you for your inquiry, but we currently have no avail . . .
When Bianca ended her call, Simon asked her where she was from—Guadalajara—and how long she’d been in the country—two years. She said she was taking classes at night at Hunter College and wanted to work in the fashion industry. Simon continued trying to keep the small talk going. For a while she seemed shy and barely spoke, and there were awkward silences while Simon tried to think of new questions to ask. But gradually she opened up, became more talkative, and even asked him questions, including what he did for a living. Caught off guard—no one had asked him about his job since he’d gotten fired—he said,“I, um, work in advertising.” Before she questioned him further, he said, “But I’m taking some time off now, doing some consulting from home.” He felt silly lying, but at least for right now he felt too much shame to say out loud, I’m unemployed.
Though Simon had nothing in common with Bianca and it was hard to have a conversation in broken English, it was nice to talk to someone, to not feel completely alienated in a playground. Meanwhile, Jeremy and Matthew were laughing, taking turns going down the slide. It would be great, Simon thought, if he could set up play dates for Jeremy with Matthew one or two days a week. Then if he found a couple of regular story hours and went on trips to the museums once a week and found a few other activities, before long he and Jeremy would have a good daily routine.
So he said to Bianca, “Hey, I was thinking, it would be great if we could meet here again sometime.”
She seemed confused, like she didn’t understand what he was saying.
“Another time,” Simon said. “Another tiempo . . . to meet again . . . we make a date.”
Something suddenly clicked and she crossed her legs and shifted away a little.
“Tengo novio,” she said.
Simon had retained enough of his high school Spanish to know that this meant I have a boyfriend.
“Oh no, no,” Simon said. “I didn’t mean that kind of date. I meant a play date, for the kids. For the niños.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not interested.”
“Interested in what? No, really, you don’t understand, no comprendes. I’m not asking you on a date. I’m married, see?” He held up his left hand to display his wedding band, then realized he wasn’t wearing it; he’d taken it off this morning when he’d showered and must’ve forgotten to put it back on. “My wedding ring’s home,” he said, “at my apartment.”
But Bianca had stood up already. She said, “Excuse me,” and went to get Matthew. Then, without looking in Simon’s direction, she put the child in the stroller and they left the playground.
Simon knew he hadn’t done anything wrong and it had been a total misunderstanding, but he still felt like he’d blown an opportunity for a potential ongoing play date for Jeremy.
Jeremy came running over to Simon and said, “Why did Matthew have to go home?”
“I guess it was his nap time,” Simon said.
Jeremy frowned.
Simon let Jeremy play for a little while longer, but he seemed sad. At least when it was time to leave, he got into the stroller without a fuss.
Over the weekend Simon had some time to himself as Alison did most of the parenting. He’d planned to take the time to work on his résumé, do some job hunting, but he wound up not doing much of anything. On Saturday, he slept late, then spent most of the rest of the day on the couch in boxers and a T-shirt watching movies and sitcom reruns on TV. He didn’t get out of the apartment on Sunday except for a walk to Duane Reade to buy milk and toilet paper.
“You should go to the gym,” Alison said, “or running in the park, or something. Sitting around all day like a lump won’t make things any better.”
Simon wasn’t offended by the “lump” comment because he knew she was right. He was probably slightly depressed, which made sense given his situation, but he couldn’t snap himself out of it.
On Monday morning, Simon and Alison had an eleven A.M. marriage counseling appointment. They’d arranged for Christina, a postgrad who’d moved back in with her parents down the hall, to babysit for a couple of hours, and then they met at Dr. Hagan’s office on Park Avenue—Simon coming from home, Alison from work.
Alison was usually chatty before their sessions, but today she wasn’t talking much.When he asked her if something was wrong she said, “No, why?”
He said, “I don’t know, you just seem upset about something.”
“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she said, not looking at him while thumbing through a random magazine.
In the office Simon and Alison took their usual seats on the couch and Dr. Hagan sat in the armchair facing them. Dr. Hagan was a wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bushy mustache. He was a good therapist, but he had one odd quirk—he always dressed in single-color-coordinated outfits. Some days everything was red, other days green, yellow, blue, and so on.Today he was wearing purple shoes, purple pants, a purple turtleneck, and purple tinted glasses.Weird, yeah, but compared to the other psychotherapists they’d interviewed he’d seemed like the sanest one by far.
Alison’s distant attitude carried over into the session, and Hagan picked up on it right away.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Hagan asked.
“No,” she said, uncrossing her legs, then crossing them again. “I’m fine.”
Hagan nodded, absorbing this, then asked, “So how are things going lately?”
Alison looked at Simon as if saying, You take this, so Simon said,“Actually a lot has happened this week.”
Simon explained that he’d been fired and become a full-time stay-at-home dad.
“It sounds like you’re both going through some major changes,” Hagan said. “How is this affecting the marriage?”
Again Alison looked to Simon to take the lead.
“Honestly we haven’t been spending enough time together,” Simon said. “I’m with Jeremy during the day, and when Alison comes home she has him, then we go to sleep. So, yeah, it’s been a lot of tag-team parenting.”
“Has there been time for intimacy?”
Simon wasn’t looking directly at Alison, but in his peripheral vision he saw that she was staring straight ahead at Hagan.
“No, not really,” Simon said, “and I’m fully willing to take all the blame. I’ve been so exhausted, chasing a three-year-old around all day, that by ten o’clock I’ve been zonked. Now I know what moms mean when they say they’re too tired to have sex.”
“Periods of change are always
challenging times for a marriage,” Hagan said. “But going forward it’s going to be even more important for you two to create time for each other. I’m not necessarily talking about sex either. Remember—intimacy starts outside the bedroom.”
Simon reached across and held Alison’s hand. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll definitely make more of an effort.”
During the rest of the session they talked about strategies to increase intimacy in the marriage. Simon thought it was a good session, but Alison still seemed distracted.
Later, leaving the office, Simon tried to ease the tension, saying, “So it was a purple day today, huh?”
Alison barely smiled.
There was silence, and then Simon said, “So how about from now on we try to get Christina to babysit one set night a week so we can have a regular date night?”
Distracted, she said,“That sounds like a good idea.” Then she glanced at her watch. “Oh shoot, I have to run to a meeting. Let’s talk about this later, okay?”
She kissed him quickly on the lips and walked away down Park Avenue, going as fast as she could on her heels. Simon waited for her to turn around and wave good-bye the way she usually did, but she turned the corner onto Eighty-sixth Street without looking back.
FOUR
Later, at the apartment, Simon said to Jeremy in an upbeat tone, “Are you ready to have fun today?”
“Where are we going?” Jeremy already sounded bored.
“To the playground,” Simon said, trying to make it sound exciting.
“Again?” Jeremy asked.
Simon couldn’t blame him for being unenthused.
“Okay, I have a great idea,” Simon said. “We’ll do something different today.”
Simon took Jeremy out in the jogging stroller, and instead of going to Central Park, Simon jogged downtown along the Hudson River bike path, pushing the stroller ahead of him. He started off strong, fueled by the excitement of getting out of the Upper West Side for a change. But after about a mile the cramping and fatigue set in, and he had to walk most of the rest of the way to Battery Park in lower Manhattan, to one of Jeremy’s favorite playgrounds. Spending another day at a playground wasn’t exactly a huge change of pace, but at least it was a different playground.
Jeremy was having a great time, and for the first time in days he hadn’t asked for Margaret. He started playing with several kids who were kicking around a soccer ball. Normally Jeremy was shy around kids he didn’t know, so Simon was glad to see him acting so outgoing.
Then Simon looked over and saw three guys sitting on a nearby bench. Simon could tell they were the kids’ dads. The big blond guy looked almost exactly like his son, and the good-looking Latino guy was obviously the father of the good-looking Latino boy. The other boy, who was the tallest of the three, was definitely the son of the gray-haired guy with a smooth, youthful face who kind of looked like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.
The gray-haired guy said something to the other guys, and then they all looked over toward Simon.
The blond guy smiled first, then the Latino guy, and finally the gray-haired guy.
Simon smiled back, then thought, Might as well be social, and he walked over to the guys.
“Hey,” Simon said.
“Hey, how’s it goin’?” the blond guy asked.
“Pretty good,” Simon said. “Nice day today, huh?”
“Beautiful,” the Latino guy said.
“Absolutely wonderful,” the gray-haired guy said.
Simon noticed that the gray-haired guy had very dark eyes, or maybe they just seemed so dark in contrast with his gray hair. He was dressed in beige slacks and a black turtleneck, and although Simon was no fashion expert, it was obvious that the clothes were expensive and more likely purchased at Barneys than at H&M. The big blond guy was in jeans and work boots, and, although he was wearing a baggy gray T-shirt, he had broad muscular shoulders and was obviously in great shape.The Latino guy may have been the best-looking of all; what with his delicate features and longish black hair, he looked like a male model. Like the gray-haired guy, the Latino guy was very well dressed—in a pressed black sport jacket over a black T-shirt and neatly pressed black slacks—and hanging from his neck was a large gold cross.
One thing the guys had in common—they were all scruffy. Not grunge scruffy, stylishly scruffy, like the old Don Johnson look of the eighties.They all looked hip, relaxed, and very cool. If GQ were doing a story on New York dads, these guys could be featured.
“Your son is enjoying himself,” the gray-haired guy said.
“Yeah,” Simon said, watching Jeremy running and laughing. “He’s having a blast.”
“He’s your only child,” the gray-haired man said.
Simon detected a vague accent, maybe German or Austrian.
“Yes,” Simon said. “Yes, he is.”
“Same with us,” the gray-haired guy said.
“Yep, we all have one boy,” the blond guy said.
“One and done,” the Latino guy said.
“That’s cool,” Simon said. “Yeah, boys are great, aren’t they?”
There was a long pause as Simon and the guys watched their sons play. But it wasn’t an awkward pause, like when Simon had strained conversations with the babysitters uptown. Simon didn’t feel any pressure to think of something to say next. The silence seemed normal, relaxing.
Then the gray-haired man extended his hand and said,“I’m Michael.”
“Simon,” Simon said.
They shook hands.Although he didn’t seem to be exerting any extra energy, Michael had a very firm handshake.
“Charlie,” the blond guy said.
“Ramon,” the Latino guy said.
The other guys had firm handshakes too, but not as firm as Michael’s.
“So you live around here?” Ramon asked.
“No, actually I live uptown,” Simon said.
“Me too,” Charlie said. “Well, midtown. I’m in Turtle Bay.”
“El Barrio,” Ramon said.
“How about you?” Simon asked Michael.
“Tribeca,” Michael said.
“Very cool,” Simon said. “So how do you guys know each other?”
“We met right here at this playground,” Ramon said.
“Nice,” Simon said. “I mean that’s great that you found each other.”
“You’re new at all this, huh?” Charlie asked.
“How can you tell?” Simon said.
Charlie laughed. “You just have the look.”
“What look is that?”
Ramon laughed, then said, “That I-don’t-know-how-the-hell-I-got-here look.”
Charlie and Ramon laughed harder. Michael was smiling a little, but not actually laughing.
Simon joined in, laughing, saying, “Yep, that pretty much sums up my life lately.”
It felt great to laugh, let loose a little. Until he started laughing, Simon hadn’t realized how much stress he’d been under lately.
“We’ve all been there,” Charlie said. “Don’t worry, it gets easier.”
“That’s good to know,” Simon said. “I have something to look forward to, then.”
“You’re with your son every day,” Michael said.
He said this as a statement, not a question; again Simon detected a hint of an accent.
“Yeah,” Simon said.“I got laid off from my job so I didn’t really have any choice.”
“Join the club,” Ramon said. “I’m an actor so I pretty much live my whole life laid off.”
They all laughed.
“So it happened suddenly, huh?” Charlie asked.
“Very suddenly,” Simon said. “I was completely blindsided. No warning, no real explanation, but, hey, that’s just the way it goes. Yeah, it’s been a big change, you know, but there are a lot of positives too. It’s great to spend more time with my son.”
Simon was surprised how comfortable he felt talking about his job situation with the guys.
“We’re all very fortunate to have time with our sons,” Michael said.
“Yeah, I agree,” Simon said. “Very fortunate.”
Jeremy looked over toward Simon and waved, smiling widely, and Simon waved back. Simon hadn’t seen Jeremy look so happy in a long time.
“Your kid’s adorable,” Charlie said.
“Thanks,” Simon said.
“Yeah, I agree, man,” Ramon said. “Well done.”
“So,” Simon said, “do you guys hang out here a lot?”
“Yes,” Michael said.
“That’s great,” Simon said.
Looking at his BlackBerry, Ramon said, “Damn, I gotta get back uptown. My mother wants to take Diego out later.”
“Yeah, I should get going myself,” Charlie said.
The guys got their stuff together and told their kids it was time to leave. Simon was impressed with how well-behaved the kids were; they didn’t protest at all and happily got right into their strollers.
“Do we have to go now too?” Jeremy asked.
“We can stay for another fifteen minutes, okay?” Simon said.
“Okay,” Jeremy said, and, suddenly seeming a little sad, walked toward the slide alone.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, man,” Charlie said. “Hopefully we’ll see you here again sometime.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” Simon said.
The other guys said good-bye too and then left the playground, pushing their strollers ahead of them.
Simon felt a letdown, the way he did when a good party ended and the last guest left. It had been nice to hang out with some like-minded guys for a change.
Simon was checking his e-mail on his phone when he heard, “Hey, Simon.”
Charlie had returned, without the stroller, and was standing in front of him.
Smiling, happy to see him, Simon said, “Hey.”
“We were just talking,” Charlie said.“You seem like a really cool guy and our kids love your kid, so if you want to come down and hang out with us again sometime, that would be great.”
“Wow, thanks for the offer,” Simon said. “That’s really nice of you.”