“How’s the little guy doing?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. “I was just about to put him down.”
“Let me hold him, first.”
I got up and Tony came forward. I handed Jonah to him. My arms felt empty. I moved away from the rocker so Tony could sit down. I wanted desperately to leave, but Kolvacik’s admonition kept replaying in my head: “You’ve got to tell him … You can’t pretend he’s not your friend.” I sat down on the rug and leaned back against Jonah’s dresser. It was dark and peaceful in the room. I wanted desperately to leave it that way. But, finally, I cleared my throat and spoke.
“Tony?”
“Yeah.”
“How are things with you and Claire?”
“You know how things are. They suck.”
“I mean, how do you feel about her, deep down.”
“I don’t know. That’s why I moved upstairs. I need some distance to figure it out.”
Tony rocked away in the dark, Jonah in his arms. I wanted to say it. I needed to say it. But I didn’t know how to say it. I took a deep breath and released it slowly before I spoke. “You know I care a lot about her, don’t you?”
“She says you’re her best friend.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Should it?”
“Maybe.”
He stopped rocking. Jonah shifted in his arms.
“Why?”
The tension in the room was as thick as the darkness.
“Because …” I started, unable to complete the sentence.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Fuck …” he said softly.
Neither of us moved or spoke for a moment. Then Tony started rocking again.
“I didn’t want it happen,” I said lamely. “I just wanted to be—”
He held up a hand to stop me. “Don’t explain,” he said. “Don’t fucking explain.”
He kept rocking.
“I’ll never forget the first time I saw her,” he said. “At a party in high school in somebody’s basement. She was on the steps, listening patiently to her girlfriend going on and on about something. She had a beer in her hand and she was wearing white shorts and a white tube top. I watched her sip her beer, wrapping those beautiful pink lips around the mouth of the bottle. Then she looked over and smiled. That was it for me.”
He paused. “Seems like a long time ago.”
“If you want me to back off, I will,” I said.
Tony stopped rocking again.
“That’s bullshit.”
“I guess it is,” I said. “I wish it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, well, if wishes were horses and all that crap. Nobody seems to be getting what he wants around here. Except maybe you. Are you sleeping with her already?”
“Yes.”
“You two didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“It wasn’t like we planned it. It just happened.”
“You had nothing to do with it, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Sounds to me like you’re saying you weren’t responsible for it. That shit won’t fly in a marriage, man, I’ll tell you that. You want Claire? Fine. You’ve got her. But it doesn’t just mean fucking her. It means living with her shit day in and day out. You haven’t even begun to see her shit, yet. Or she yours, for that matter. You guys are living in a fantasy world. Playing house. It’s a whole lot different when you’re married and you’ve got a kid and you’re stuck with each other all the time.”
He rose abruptly and, despite his own agitation, put Jonah down in his crib gently. Then her turned to me, looming over me as I sat on the floor, his fists clenched at his sides.
“And even if you get Claire, don’t get any ideas about Jonah. He’s my son and he’s going to stay my son.”
“Are you telling me to stay away from him?”
“I know that won’t happen. If you’re hanging out with Claire, you’ll be hanging out with him, too. There’s nothing I can do about that. But if I ever get a whiff of you trying to take my place with him, I’ll beat your fucking face in.”
He strode from the room, opened the door to the attic, and took the stairs two at a time. I heard his boots on the floor above me.
I stayed sitting, my back against the dresser. Again I felt paralyzed. I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. I knew I loved Claire. Was that all that mattered to me? I knew that, given the choice between keeping a friend and finding a woman to love, it was no contest. I was like a knight looking for someone to champion, and Claire was the fair maiden of my dreams.
I went back down to the living room and eventually fell asleep reading on the couch. Claire woke me when she arrived.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Two o’clock. Is Tony home, yet?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s home.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
I sat up, yawned, and stretched my arms.
“We had a … conversation.”
“What kind of—You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”
“I did.”
“Shit.”
“It just came up.”
“Did he ask?”
“Not exactly.”
“But you decided it was your job to tell him.”
“It seemed like the right time.”
“I see. I’m his wife. I’m the mother of his child. But you should be the judge of when it’s the right time to tell him we’re lovers. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m his friend. Kolvacik came by and he made me feel like shit for keeping it from him.”
“Tim? How does he know about it. I suppose you told him, too. Is there anybody you haven’t told?”
“I didn’t tell Kolvacik. If you didn’t, I guess he just figured it out on his own.”
“Well, thanks for making my day. Now I’ll lay awake all night trying to figure out what to say to Tony in the morning. I wasn’t ready for this yet, John.”
She pulled her Kool 100s out of her fringed leather purse and threw the purse on the couch. She extracted a cigarette and a book of matches and lit the cigarette.
“What will you say to him?” I asked meekly.
She sat down on the overstuffed chair across from the couch, pulled off her shoes, and brought her legs up under her.
“I wish I knew,” she said.
She smoked silently for some time. I wanted to push her for an answer. I wanted to hear her say she was going to tell him she loved me. But I wasn’t entirely certain that was the answer I’d get, so I waited. Finally, she seemed to sense my anticipation.
“Go to bed, John. I told you, I don’t know what I’m going to say. It’ll take me all night to figure it out.”
I didn’t move. I had to have some kind of reassurance.
“Will you tell him you love me?” I asked.
She took a long drag on her cigarette and blew it out slowly. “I’ll tell him I care a lot about you. I don’t know what love means right now.”
“May I kiss you good night?”
At first, she didn’t seem to hear what I said. Then it registered. “Yes,” she said. “I think I need a kiss.”
I went to her, knelt down in front of her, and took her free hand. “I love you, Claire. Whatever happens with Tony, I love you. I don’t think I can help it.”
“Then kiss me.”
I kissed her, then laid my head on her breast. She wrapped her arms around my head, being careful to keep her cigarette away from my face.
“This is crazy, John. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“Go to bed, now. I need to think. I also need an ashtray for this cigarette.”
We broke our clinch. It was difficult to let go.
“Can we sleep together tonight?” I asked.
“I need to be alone. If I’m feeling better in the morning, I’ll come and visit you.”
“No,” I sa
id. “You sleep in. Tony’s not working, so I’m sure he will. I’ll take care of Jonah when he wakes up. You can have your reckoning with Tony later on. In fact, if you want to go somewhere to talk, I’ll watch Jonah for you.”
“How was Jonah, tonight?”
“He woke up twice. It took some work to get him back to sleep both times. Do you think the tension around here is getting to him?”
“I’m sure it is. I wish we could spare him all this.”
I said good night and dragged myself up the stairs to bed. I couldn’t sleep. Much later, I heard Claire come up to bed, then the muffled sound of crying. I was just about to go to her when it stopped. Still, I couldn’t sleep. Finally, I got up and went into her room.
She lay on her stomach, asleep. I wanted to lay down beside her and take her in my arms, but I was afraid to. Instead, I sat down beside her and caressed her hair. I wanted reassurance I wasn’t a fool to sacrifice my friendship with Tony—and, no doubt, with Kolvacik—for her. I knew that, if I really did wake her, she’d tell me she didn’t know what she felt and couldn’t make any promises. That made me afraid, and being afraid made me angry. For a moment, I hated her. I wanted to shake her and make her say she loved me. I continued to caress her fine, soft hair, trying to push away my fears. All-at-once, I realized how exhausted I was. I leaned over and kissed the back of her head, then got up and went back into my own room.
Everyone slept late in the morning, including Jonah. I woke up first, after less sleep than anyone, brought to consciousness by the sound of someone slamming the front door. I had a splitting headache, and I felt half-conscious. I dragged myself downstairs to investigate, half-hoping it was a burglar who would shoot me and put me out of my misery. I found Jonathan, our long-lost roommate, at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal.
“You look like hell, Meyer,” he said. “You been crying over your little flop of a strike?”
“Fuck you,” I said half-heartedly.
I went to the sink to get a glass of tap water. I was in no condition to debate the success or lack of success of the strike.
“What a bunch of wimps over there,” Jonathan continued. “Worrying about their fucking grades when the country’s about to come down around their ears.”
“I suppose you and your cohorts are the ones going to make that happen, huh?”
“Damn straight! It’s in the works. Just wait and see.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“You won’t have to.”
He stood up. “I’m going to change my clothes. Then I’m out of here again.”
He started out of the room, leaving his bowl and the cereal box on the table. I should have demanded he clean up after himself, but I didn’t want to waste what little energy I had, especially since I knew the demand would have no effect on him. All I’d get was a lecture on “petty bourgeois concerns” and the bowl and cereal box would stay where they were.
I went into the living room and plopped down on the couch. I was too tired to do anything, so I just sat. Jonathan came down the stairs in the same jeans he’d worn for weeks, but with a fresh t-shirt. It was bright red and had a picture of Karl Marx printed on it. He paused outside the entrance to the living room, looking smug.
“Think of me when you hear the news, later, okay?”
I hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about.
“I’ll be staying elsewhere for a while. It’s best you don’t know where. See ya’.”
I gleaned from this, despite my fuzzy mind, that Jonathan and his communist buddies were up to something big. I had wondered when we’d be hearing from them.
After he left, I stretched out on the couch and fell asleep. Some time later, I got a rude awakening when Jonah threw himself on top of me.
“Wake up,” he said. “John. Wake up.”
I moved him off of my semi-nauseated stomach and onto the edge of the couch cushion beside me. “Is your mother awake?”
He looked around the room, as if she might be hiding behind a piece of furniture. “Mama? Where?”
“She must be sleeping.”
“Sweeping.”
“Want some breakfast, big guy?”
He leaped up and ran into the kitchen. He was too fast for me. I sat up slowly and stretched. Jonah came running back into the room and started tugging on my arm. “Cer’yl,” he said.
I let him pull me up. He held onto my hand and led me into the kitchen, where he pointed to the Cap’n Crunch box on the table. “Cer’yl.”
“Okay. Get into your high chair and I’ll put some on the tray for you.”
He did as he was asked. I snapped the tray into place and poured some cereal onto it. Then I found his covered cup with the teddy bear on the side, filled it with milk, and set it on the tray. He was munching away happily. I went out onto the porch, picked up the morning paper, and brought it into the kitchen. I sat in a chair beside Jonah and scanned the front page.
“What’s happening in our screwed up world this morning, Jonah?” I said.
Seeing nothing of interest, I began paging through. On page four, a story caught my eye. It said that government officials expected demonstrations against the arms industry to happen, soon. They weren’t certain of the nature of the protests, but had information that suggested stepped-up actions against various arms manufacturers would begin soon. It occurred to me that this was the sort of thing Jonathan might be involved in.
Tony appeared at the kitchen door.
“Daddy!” squealed Jonah.
“Hey, pal,” said Tony. “Whatcha eatin’ there?”
“Cer’yl.”
“Cap’n Crunch first thing in the morning, huh? Yuck.”
“Jonathan left it out,” I said. “I didn’t think to put it away before Jonah saw it.”
“I don’t give a shit,” said Tony. “You’re not responsible for him.”
I retreated behind the newspaper. Tony poured a glass of orange juice and sat down directly across from me.
“Throw me some of that newspaper,” he said.
I handed him the sections I wasn’t looking at. We both sat reading.
“Paper,” said Jonah.
“That’s right, little guy,” said Tony. “We’re reading the newspaper. Look at this picture of a little boy just like you.”
He turned the paper to show Jonah the photograph, which was of a boy playing with blocks at a day care center.
“Jonah?” said Jonah.
“No, that’s another little boy,” said Tony. “Boy?”
“That’s right.”
A few minutes later, Claire came into the kitchen in a short nightie. I felt the tension level shoot up immediately. It suddenly felt as if the kitchen, big as it was, was too small to hold us.
“Mommy!” said Jonah.
“Good morning, sweetie,” she said and kissed him on the top of the head. “I can’t believe you guys haven’t made coffee, yet,” she said.
“I hardly ever drink it,” I said. “You know that.”
“Tony does.”
Tony made no reply. He was concentrating on the paper as if he was trying to bore a hole through it with his eyes. Claire brushed against the paper as she went by him to the sink. He looked at her for the first time.
“Why don’t you put some fucking clothes on,” he said.
She stopped and turned to him. “What’s your problem this morning?”
Tony looked back at the paper, as if he was going to continue reading, but it was clear he wasn’t seeing what was in front of him.
“My problem is that I don’t like you running around here like a fucking whore. If you bend over in that thing, people can see right up your ass.”
I could see Claire struggling for self-control. “I know what’s really on your mind, Tony. We can talk about that later. I want to talk about it.”
“Gee, that makes me feel warm all over.”
“John will watch Jonah and we can go off somewhere on our own.”
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“Good old John,” he said, still looking at the paper. “What a saint. Always ready to lend a helping hand—or whatever part of his anatomy is required.”
“Cut it out, Tony,” said Claire. “This won’t get us anywhere.”
Tony slapped the newspaper shut and looked at Claire coldly. “We weren’t exactly getting anywhere anyway, were we? Why start trying, now?”
“Don’t be a prick, Tony.”
“Fuck you, Claire.”
“Fuck?” said Jonah.
“Great,” said Claire, “now you’ve got Jonah swearing.”
“I don’t give a shit,” said Tony. “He’s my son, and I’ll swear in front of him if I want to.”
“That’s real intelligent.”
“You should talk about intelligence, Miss Pre-Med Failure.”
“Go to hell!”
“Now who’s swearing?”
“I’m going upstairs,” said Claire. “If you decide you want to talk, instead of swearing at me, let me know. I’m ready.”
“Yeah, you’re ready for anybody who drops into your bedroom.”
“Jesus, Tony. Grow up.”
She started out of the room. For a split second, I thought Tony was going to grab her and escalate the fight, but he let her pass. I wanted to go after her, but I was too meek to leap right up. I was irrationally afraid of Tony’s tongue. But he didn’t turn it on me. He opened the paper again. I hid behind mine, too.
“Mommy?” said Jonah.
I saw he was done eating and took the opportunity to try to cover my escape. “Do you want to go up to your Mommy, Jonah?” I asked.
“Mommy.”
I stood up.
“He’s staying here with me,” said Tony, not bothering to look up.
“But he’s done, Tony. He wants to go up to Claire.”
“He’s staying here with me.”
“Mommy?” said Jonah.
“Want some more cereal, Jonah?” I asked, hoping to distract him.
“Mommy?”
“Tony?” I said.
“Leave him the fuck alone,” he said coldly, continuing to look at the newspaper. “I’ll deal with him.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. But he’s ready to go.”
The newspaper came down fast.
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