The Conversation

The Conversation

 

“Didn’t you get married?”

When Joey didn’t answer right away, I couldn’t tell if he was thinking up a good lie or just reluctant to talk about it.

“We split up,” he finally replied like it was no big deal. But it was too quick.

“What happened?” Cassie asked without looking up from her plate. Thirty years and she still hadn’t mastered the concept of boundaries.

“Just grew apart?” I offered as a bailout.

“I don’t…” he shrugged. “I don’t know. It was all good for a while. I mean, really good, you know? It just…” He lowered his voice, like he was talking to himself. “Just not good enough for marriage.” After a moment, he raised his eyes to me. “You know what I mean?”

Part of me really did, so I nodded. “Sure. It’s like…I love you more than anything but…not all the time.” He started nodding along with me. “I mean, there’s a whole wide world out there and while I love having you as a safe haven in it…”

“It’s not your whole world,” he finished.

Close, I thought, but still not quite there. How do you tell people you’ve known almost your whole life–well, your early life–that the person they thought they knew as you didn’t exist? That you weren’t the fun-loving comedian they remember from high school? You never had been. It was all an act, a mask you hid behind so no one would know that you really couldn’t stand to be around them. Not them in particular, but people in general.

It had nothing to do with the self-indulgent, narcissistic boredom people feign today. Not to get all metaphysical, but it was more of a desire to filter out the noise so I could hear what the universe was saying to me. Everyone has moments when they want to unplug and run away. I’d just been having them my entire life. Like I wished everyone would go find another planet and leave me alone.

“Actually,” I ventured, “I think it’s more like, I love you, but seriously, could you just leave for a while?”

“Great,” Cassie huffed. “We’ve reached the philosophical portion of the evening.”

Ignoring her, Joey grinned at me. I grinned back at him, then something…I don’t know…something…stirred. Down there. It had been so long, I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

No, that’s a lie. I hadn’t forgotten. I’d just given up hope. Figured it was just another one of those delightful benefits of aging. Well, for most people. Not the ones in the commercials–the Viagra-popping, tennis playing, perfect teeth smiling Stepfordbots. No, the real people. The ones who either stayed between the lines with a life mate, hooked up with the first lost soul they could snag, or took care of things the old-fashioned way while ignoring the missing parts of that union.

I guess if anyone was reading my mind, that would sound pretty cynical. Must be the years talking. Who am I kidding–I was born cynical.

Joey looked away first as Cassie came up for air, oblivious to anything but the plateful of boiled shrimp she had just finished meticulously peeling. She glanced between us and frowned.

“What’d I miss?” She continued before either of us could answer. “She the one you met in college? Denise, Debbie…D-something?”

I bit my inner lip, still trying to process what had just happened. Joey? He’s like a brother. Well, maybe a cousin. Second cousin. Okay, really good friend. Still…

“Ellen,” Joey furnished before reaching over and nabbing one of Cassie’s shrimp, popping it in his mouth with a boyish grin. I smiled to myself, recalling what a huge part of my early life that grin had been. Like his laughter, it was honest and carefree; an act of pure enjoyment. Some would say infectious. Not that I was one of them.

It didn’t matter how upset or depressed or disappointed I was, Joey could always cheer me up. Never mind that half the time it was at my own expense. Well, maybe not quite half the time.

Actually, that kind of stopped after tenth grade. That’s when I noticed something new in his smile. I figured it was just part of growing up, but deep down I knew that didn’t explain the sadness. The sense that he had lost something. I ignored it because it didn’t fit the carefree Joey image I had created in my mind.

I could almost feel the metaphorical slap across the head then–the duh moment. Was he living behind a mask, too?

Cassie smacked his hand and snapped her teeth at him the way she used to do when he stole her food in cafeteria. We all laughed and Joey grabbed another shrimp. Cassie fought him for it, then he leaned his head back, holding the shrimp above his mouth and daring her to come get it.

“Go ahead,” Cassie said with a face. “I don’t want it after you've played with it.”

Joey grinned, then his eyes flickered over to me, and…

Everything stopped.

A lifetime of what-ifs shuffled through my mind, like one of those old flip pads cartoonists used to simulate film, while Time took a time-out. Like the Earth’s axle suddenly froze up and the world ground to a quietly screeching halt.

Yeah, I know. I’ve heard people say it before–Time stood still. I’ve even used the expression in my writing, but really, that’s all it is, right? A corny expression?

Maybe the weed we’d smoked earlier in the car was better than I thought. Maybe it was some time stopping, mind twisting, ecstasy weed. The Guy said White Widow. You’d think at least one of those millions of café goers would’ve Yelped about effects like that.

Joey released the shrimp and it dropped into his open mouth while he ducked away from Cassie’s slap. I laughed at their game–on reflex–but my attention was all on watching the muscles in his neck as he swallowed the shrimp.

“Asshole,” Cassie declared playfully.

“That’s me,” he agreed, jumping to his feet and heading into the kitchen. “Anybody else want something to drink?”

“I’ll take another beer,” Cassie called, raising her empty bottle for him to claim. He grabbed it then looked at me.

“Sam?”

I glanced down at my glass, where I still had a finger of bourbon. “No, I’m good.”

When he didn’t move, I raised my eyes to find him looking at me. Thinking maybe he hadn’t heard me, I repeated my answer.

“I’m sure of that,” he murmured with a slow grin that didn’t show a hint of boyishness, then turned back toward the kitchen.

What the hell? Was I imagining this? Was I really thinking about what I was thinking about? Is there a full moon or something? Did I accidently dial up some porn in my recent internet foraging? Get a grip. It’s Joey. You know, Joey. Best bud from fourth grade.

“I can get us tickets, if you guys want to go,” Cassie was saying. “Sam?”

“Huh?” Quick, what was she saying?

“Big surprise,” she sighed. “You weren’t listening.”

“Sorry,” I replied, rubbing my temple. “I uh…had a moment.” Boy, did I ever.

“Remember when we used to say that in high school?” Cassie laughed, then shook her head, her smile fading. “And now we really do.”

“Maybe it’s just the alcohol,” Joey chuckled, handing her a beer and flopping into his chair. He unscrewed the cap of his own beer and took a long pull then tipped his head toward my glass. “You are drinking the hard stuff.”

I frowned–was he saying I was a lush? He must’ve read my expression because he practically fell over himself to apologize. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just kidding around, you know?”

“No, it’s cool,” I assured him, too quickly, and hoped he didn’t notice.

“I knew that.”

Shit, this was getting way too complicated.

He dropped his eyes to his bottle then murmured, barely loud enough to hear, “You looked like you could use some cheering up.”

Too bad. I heard it, but I acted like I didn’t because I didn’t want to ask what he meant. I mean, I wanted to know, and I wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to volunteer the information. But I wouldn’t ask for it.

Cassie saved us both by reminding him that he still hadn’t answered her earlier question. Bless your anal-retentive heart.

“What question?”

“Is your ex-wife the one you met in college?”

He glanced between her and me. “Do we have to talk about this now?”

“Yes,” Cassie replied. “Full disclosure. We haven’t seen each other in fifteen years”

“I saw you last summer,” I interrupted.

Cassie rolled her eyes at me. “As a group. We haven’t seen each other as a group since our five-year reunion.”

“Why did we do that again?” Joey asked, obviously deflecting.

“Do what?”

“Have a five year reunion instead of the usual ten?”

“Some of us went to both,” I said before I could stop myself. He looked at me.

“Really?”

I shrugged. “I was in town. Roxie and John were there.”

“What?” Cassie gaped. “That’s the whole reason why we had a five year reunion. They said they were going to be working in Japan then.”

“Well, they were there.”

“Did they say what happened?”

I was really over this particular subject. “I didn’t ask. We only talked for a few minutes.”

“Are you kidding? You guys used to do all kinds of stuff together.”

“Yeah, in a group,” I snorted. “To be honest, I really didn’t talk to her much then. And John I didn’t know at all. I was already gone when they met.”

“She was kind of uppity,” Joey remarked, causing me to throw him a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

“Just cause her family lived in Snell Isle.”

I raised my glass and tinked it against his bottle, and just like that, everything was back to normal.

“Hmph,” Cassie said thoughtfully. “I could swear you were at their wedding.”

“Nope. You must be thinking of the other Sam.”

“What other Sam?”

“I don’t know,” I said, jumping up and heading for the kitchen. “Anything else to eat in here?”

I wasn’t really hungry–I’d just polished off a 12 ounce ribeye and all the fixings a couple of hours ago–but I was seriously getting tired of Memory Lane of the Rich and Famous. I stuck my head in the fridge and spotted a bowl of cut fruit. I grabbed it and three forks and headed back into the livingroom.

“No,” Cassie barked when she saw what I was carrying. “That’s for breakfast.”

“Too bad, I want it now.” I dropped the bowl on the coffee table and handed Joey a fork, then tossed another to Cassie before using my own to stab a big strawberry.

“Hey, I wanted that one,” Joey protested.

I popped it into my mouth and gave him a big chipmunk smile. “Oops.”

“You two are just alike,” Cassie sulked, cornering a chunk of pineapple.

“Great minds,” Joey mumbled as he stuffed three grapes into his mouth.

Cassie finished chewing and swallowing, then grabbed a piece of apple and looked between us, grinning. “I’m glad it turned out to be just us.”

“Me too,” Joey agreed, winking at me.

“Uh, yeah,” I added uncertainly. He was fucking with me now. That’s what all this was. A little weed, a couple of drinks, some old friends, and suddenly my mind is taking the scenic route through the gutter.

I looked up at him again and our eyes met and in that instant I knew that for all his teasing, the invitation was there, but Joey would never be the one to make the first move.

That would be up to me.