Connections

by R. H. Vesely

  "Please do."

  "It's Betsy. I know I told you we had a relationship that was ending by mutual agreement and when I said that I thought it was the truth. I swear to god."

  "Yes"

  "Well, I don't think I was being honest with myself. Hell, I guess I know now I wasn't being honest with myself, and I'm truly sorry for that. I really and truly had no idea I would feel this way."

  "Well, I can't say I'm happy, but guess you have to do what you have to do. At least it's not Kelley, she treated you like shit. So, I guess maybe thanks for being honest, but I have to hang up now. I'm not feeling too good."

  "God, I'm sorry."

  And so it ended.

  Ia - Well the only good I can see from this is that at least Colleen is not going to end up with Pat. Frankly, I was hoping that the idiot would end up going after Kelley. Not to be a shit, but he may be better off dead and starting over given the hole he has dug for himself.

  In - Wow, a little cruel.

  Ia - I think he may be the poster boy for the expression cruel to be kind and my only hope is that Betsy is as smart as she appears.

  In - I choose to think that maybe he has learned something.

  In - Yeah, learned how far up his ass his head is. Are we by any chance going to look at something that gives me hope.

  Chapter 16

  Sarah was waiting up when Randy came back.

  "So did you gain some tremendous incite from your cynical bar buddy Bill," asked Sarah. She did not like Bill, and she was angry that Randy had turned to him.

  "Look Randy, I want to resolve this now, not later. I am not going to sit here in limbo like some bimbo. I want to know what is going on, period. Talk to me."

  Randy collapsed into a chair. His brain, though slightly inebriated, was racing and freer than usual from the avoidance restraints he placed on it. He knew he had to say something, but what.

  "Sarah, you know I don't want to hurt you, but I want to be honest," said Randy.

  "Good, that's a start, but please no bullshit, ok."

  "Ok, reality, we do not love each other. We may really like each other and be very comfortable living together but love, it's just not there."

  "Speak for yourself asshole. I sure as hell thought you loved me. Otherwise, what the hell was this all about, just an occasional fuck and a place to eat and sleep," retorted Sarah.

  "Come on Sarah, can we turn off the killer work shit and talk honestly," pleaded Randy.

  Sarah was hot and angry, but she was also not unaware that nothing was likely to be gained by bullying Randy. While he was one of the most solicitous people she had ever met, he responded very badly when he was pushed too hard.

  "Ok, then explain to me what you think we have been doing."

  "Look, we have both done this before I am sure. I was coming out of being badly burned by a truly selfish and unkind person. You were coming out of the same by some dick who treated you like shit, cheated on you and ran up bills on your credit cards, agreed?"

  "Agreed and the point is?"

  "We found each other, kind decent people who seemed to appreciate each other. So we sort of settled into a pleasant, nice, but pretty bland routine. Pleasant and secure, but love, no, really just situational for what we needed at the time. We were both wounded and needed to be healed, to feel positive about ourselves."

  "Can I talk now? Sure it was situational, but what is wrong with that. We are kind, caring and accepting of each other, isn't this what you look for in a relationship? Wouldn't most people kill to have this? Hell, our friends envy what we have hon." Sarah had settled down and was focused on calmly marshaling her arguments.

  "I don't know, maybe it is enough for some people, but I feel there has to be more. I mean, wouldn't you be happier if we shared some passion or I had the same passion for my work like you do?"

  "No, I don't think I need it. I get that at work. Here I want comfort, calm,warmth. I get that with you. I think it's enough for me."

  "I don't know what to say Sarah. It's not enough for me."

  Sarah was nonplussed. This made no sense to her. How had this happened. There had to be something else going on. This sudden change was not logical.

  "I don't get it. I was only away for five days and suddenly everything is changed. I think you are not telling me something. What about it Randy?" she queried, staring hard at him.

  Randy pulled a beer from the refrigerator and paused, looking down.

  "I guess something did happen," he said.

  "I knew it, you bastard," said Sarah. She was instantly hot and angry again.

  "Who the hell have you been fucking and for how long? You shit," she screamed.

  "Look, I have not fucked or slept with anyone other than you, but I did have a drink with someone and it made me realize what we are lacking. I swear, I have not slept with anyone."

  "Ah so it was a woman who you went out for a drink with huh. Kind of left that out didn't you, you prick. Where did you meet her and how long has your supposedly asexual little affair been going on?"

  "Come on Sarah, I 'm trying to be honest here. I met her once briefly with Bill, and there was only this one time I had a drink with her, seriously, and nothing happened."

  "I might have known it would have something to do with Bill, that fucking asshole. I never liked him, he is a cynical, unhappy destroyer. Frankly, given that you met her through him, you probably have been fucking for months, you god damn liar."

  "I did not meet her through Bill. We just briefly sat and had beer with a group of women at a bar and she was among them and we have never fucked, just talked."

  "Right, I'm supposed to believe that now, after all the other lies. Just get the fuck out of here. You can get your shit some other time. Just get out and I mean now," yelled Sarah.

  Randy got out.

  Chapter 17

  Bill was finishing his second year of law school. Between student loans and working at the legal aid clinic as a motions and brief writer, he managed to pull together enough money to live spartanly. He rented a large apartment on the top floor of an ancient house. The rent was ridiculously cheap on account of heat not being included. The decrepit old house swayed in the wind, had no insulation and so, during winter, it would have cost two to three times his rent to heat the place. Bill's solution to this was to place light bulbs under the thermostat and rely upon a space heater which he moved to wherever he happened to be in the apartment. It was so cold, that on one occasion, when Bill had gone away for a long weekend, he came back to find the drip in his sink had formed an icicle and the water in his toilet bowl was almost completely frozen. Other than sleeping and eating, the living room was the only room that Bill used. The large sun room and other bedroom were completely closed off. The door to Bill's apartment opened directly into this living room. Upon entry the visitor was confronted with a literal maze of stacked books with pathways, one of which led to a chair, another which led to an old couch and coffee table and a third to the stereo. The coffee table was also piled high with books. It is likely that Bill could have afforded heat if he gave up drinking with friends and buying books but Bill loved to talk, read and think, so this was "not going to happen in this lifetime", he told the women who had visited his apartment and were duly shocked by seeing their breath as they entered the maze.

  Bill was in Law School for two basic reasons. First, his father, a lawyer, had been on him since he was young about what an excellent lawyer he would make. Second, he loved children and wanted to have kids and finally decided that his music career was not likely to afford him enough income for a family. Though somewhat successful, he realized he was incapable of marketing this creative part of his being. To him it was too personal and he had watched several friends, truly talented friends, bastardize themselves for success to the point where he had lost all respect for them creatively. He did not think he would be able to live with himself if he did this, so he looked for an alternative way to make money and thanks to his father, law schoo
l had seemed the most likely.

  Once he made this decision, he was confronted with the law school admissions test, an all day marathon. He still remembered how he had bought some practice books and quickly realized that though he had always done well in undergraduate school, he was in trouble. It had literally been over three years since he had taken any sort of multiple choice test and certainly never one of this length.

  The college lecture room where the test was given was filled with women and men far younger than he, most, obviously finishing undergraduate school and eager and excited about the exam. When he took his seat and looked around all he saw was a sea of eager, bright eyed kids with an array of perfectly sharpened number two pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners and water bottles set out in front of them. He felt sick to his stomach as he fingered his two meager pencils. At the break, he was surrounded by these same fresh faced students, completely charged up, comparing answers on the completed first part of the exam. Many seemed to know each other from courses they had taken designed to prepare them for success on the test. Christ, I couldn't remember even one of those friggin questions if my life depended on it, said Bill to himself. At the afternoon session, Bill put down his well worn pencil, looked up, and breathed a sigh of relief. He had finished the test about a half hour early and started to check his answers but then decided fuck it, I have no desire to retorture myself, que sera sera. While he sat there, he noticed most of the younger set were still working or rapidly and efficiently checking what they had completed. He thought to himself, god I am fucked. The time limit was called and the monitor announced to the group that they now had the opportunity to sign a paper stating they did not want the results reported to the law schools they had listed but that the fact of taking the test and their decision would be reported. Whoa thought Bill, should I do this. I mean it wouldn't look good but maybe a second go would be better. He sat for while as the others started filing out and then said to himself, I am not going through this again. I don't have the money plus I have no desire to put myself through this crap again.

  He could still remember the day he got the results in the mail. His girlfriend at the time, Sally, had brought the mail in, and looked at him very seriously, and said,

  "Do you want to do this now, or should we maybe go get a drink?"

  Bill had recounted to her in great detail the facts of the test day, so she knew he was not anticipating a happy result. He couldn't believe how his heart was pounding in his chest. God, over a friggin test man, get it together, he thought to himself.

  "Nah, better to rip off the band aid and then go get some drinks," he laughed.

  He slowly tore it open, read the card and just stared at it. The first thing that went through his mind was that there had to be a mistake or he was hallucinating. He looked at it again and handed it to Sally.

  "So what does it mean hon? Is this really bad? God, I'm sorry. You worked so hard but its just a test and you said you could take it again."

  "No, No, it says I got almost a perfect score," he said stunned.

  "Jesus hon," she laughed, "maybe your Dad was right."

  "Let's go get pissed," he said.

  Bill was right, he had in fact done well. His score was in the 99.9 percentile of all those who took the test. This would, however, be the last time Bill would test so highly on anything to do with the law. Within two months of starting law school, Bill was completely bored. The test and his father had been right about his abilities to think like a lawyer. The problem was, it simply did not interest him except as a potential vehicle to make some money.

  Bill's career so far at law school had been, to say the least, unimpressive, sort of middle of the pack. Probably the only thing that kept him there was his ability to write well. While others formed study groups and relished going over the cases and issues, Bill relished reading just about everything but. He quickly realized that Law School was just three years of grinding it out and getting a piece of paper. It required no particular intelligence, just a mix of perseverance and not being stupid. Bill may have been short on perseverance, but he was most assuredly not stupid. So he survived as he had promised himself going in.

  "If you are going to do this, come hell or high water you are going to finish this, no quitting," he had said to himself.

  So here he was, bored, but putting forth just enough effort to graduate and be left alone by the powers that be at the law school. He was walking a very fine line and had already been called in by the dean for absences and complaints by professors that he was not giving it his all, but fortunately there was really nothing they could do as long as he stayed ensconced in the middle of the pack.

  His long term relationship with Sally had ended shortly after he entered law school. He had known that it would for a long time. He had recognized earlier that it was unlikely they would be able to sustain a relationship for long enough to raise children, so he had decided to end it and he used the supposed demands of law school as an excuse. He still felt guilty about this lie. It was into this environment that organized Randy was about to enter.

  Oddly enough, Randy had never been to Bill's apartment. The last time he had visited where Bill lived was when he was with Sally and Sally, like Randy, loved to cook and was incredible at keeping Bill's mess under control. All books had been neatly shelved and their apartment had a nice ordered, homey feeling about it, comfortable furniture, nice rugs, beautiful quilts hung on the walls. It was a stark contrast to what now presented itself to Randy.

  "Hey Bill, man, I am sorry for this. I really wasn't expecting to push it to the point where she would actually throw me out," said Randy.

  "Hey, no worries, what are friends for. You can see its pretty basic but for now you can crash on the couch. I have a lot of extra blankets and you can help yourself to whatever is in the fridge, though unfortunately no beer," said Bill.

  "No problem, I picked up a case on the way over just in case."

  "Great, well lets sit down and laugh or cry about this, whatever your pleasure," said Bill.

  "Jesus, I mean I knew you read, but this is a bit beyond the beyond. You actually read all this shit?" laughed Randy.

  "Well, haven't gotten through all of it, but a lot. The stacks are sort of organized by topic, areas or genre. You know, like the piles in this area are fiction, over there science shit and there religious crap. Of course the coffee table is a bit of a mix, stuff I am currently looking at, but you'll figure it out," said Bill.

  "So, do you want to talk about it or just drink and laugh a bit. Wait I'll put some music on," said Bill.

  The only nice thing in Bill's apartment was his stereo. He had a beautiful old amplifier and turntable and likely the best collection of old vinyl jazz and rock in the City. His records and stereo were the only thing that Bill treated with care, great care. He set a disc on the turntable, gently cleaned it, brought the needle down and The Band began to play.

  "So what is it to be?" said Bill, as he plopped himself in the one oversized stuffed chair.

  "Well, when I got back, Sarah was waiting. She demanded I tell her what was going on and wanted to know if it was another woman. I said no, but in a way yes, and from there it all went to hell. I tried to tell her that nothing had gone on, just talk, but she started calling me every name in the book. Then, when I mentioned I had simply met this person with you, she went ballistic. She doesn't have the highest opinion of you."

  "Yeah, no shit, not the smartest name to bring up on your part, though I never could see why she disliked me so. I mean, I never did anything to her and I always tried to be pleasant."

  "Yeah, well I think she sort of liked Sally, and after you split up with her and started sleeping around a bit, she saw you as someone like her old boyfriend."

  "God, what the fuck business is it of hers and I am certainly not like that sleazeball who screwed her over. Shit, I know that guy, he is a clear player who was just using her and she just went for the looks and flash. I'm sorry but that was her own fault."<
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  "Yeah, I know, but she kind of looks at you the same way."

  "Tell her to get some glasses, but actually, I don't really care, but for you, I would never and will never have any contact with her."

  "Well, so basically she is convinced I have been screwing some other woman for months and it ended with her calling me a lying bastard and telling me to get the fuck out. So here I am."

  "Well welcome to my humble abode, you lying bastard. There actually is another bedroom but it is empty and even colder than here, so I think the couch is your best bet. So, not to be a shit but there could be a bright side to this you know. I mean, at least it was fast and you can think seriously about that Mattie woman."

  "Not sure the best thing for me right now. I mean right after Sarah."

  "Look, I never said this before because you are my friend, but I never got why you were with Sarah for so long. I don't think I ever heard you talk about loving her, and man, when you mentioned you had talked about kids, it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut."

  "Yeah, well actually, that is kind of what I told her, you know, that we liked each other a lot but that we didn't really love each other."

  "Woof, I bet that went over like a lead balloon. Even if they don't really love you, they sure don't want to hear that after two years, you don't really love them."

  "I was just trying to be honest and I thought if I was honest, she would see that she really doesn't love me."

  "She may not, but I doubt seriously if she had that in the front of her mind. Not often two people come to that at the same time my friend. Anyway, I still think you ought to give that Mattie a try."

  "Nah, it would just seem too shitty to Sarah to do. I don't think I could do it."

  "Ok, your decision, you've got to live with yourself, but at least I wouldn't close it. Look, it is really late, and believe it or not, I have to go to a couple classes tomorrow, so how about one last drink and then we crash. I have a little bottle of Grand Marnier I save for special occasions. I'll get you some blankets and we can sip a glass and listen to a little Terry Reid."