Twelve

The great thing about being in love is that it makes even the shittiest of circumstances tolerable. I mean here I am, my career is fucked, my mom is probably dying and I’m soon-to-be-homeless. But just because I happen to be disgustingly in love with a woman who actually loves me back, I’m happy. (If you’re reading this Liz, that’s a big fuck you).

You know that feeling you get when you look at a picture of yourself from ninth grade? How you cringe with embarrassment and disbelief at your own dorkness? How you wish you could go back and take it all back? That’s how I feel about Liz. I can’t. For my fucking life. Believe I ever thought she was the one. Additionally, should I ever refer to anyone as the one again, I promise to place my open mouth on a curb and let homeless people kick me in the back of the head.

I’m pretty sure Jen is the one.

“We should visit your folks over Labor Day,” said the one.

It was a beautiful August day so we felt compelled to picnic. Since falling in love, we had become that couple, now we were laying on a red and white checkered blanket on the bank of a hidden little lake out in the middle of nowhere. The only thing missing was an apple tree. But we made do with an aspen. We even went skinny dipping and had afternoon delight. It was very Abercrombie, except not gay.

“Why would you want to do that,” I asked.

“Hmm…let me think.”

I tussled her hair. “Ha ha, smartass.”

“Don’t call me a smartass,” she said, smiling.

I playfully smacked her butt. “I mean sweetass.”

“Don’t you want me to meet your parents?”

“I do.”

She said something in reply, but I was lost in my thoughts. I did want her to meet my folks. I just knew that a trip home meant telling Jen all of the truth, not just some of it. And I knew that to do that, I’d have to acknowledge my mom’s illness. Truthfully, I didn’t want to do that.

“Will?”

I snapped out of it. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Don’t you want your parents to meet me,” she asked again, this time sounding a little hurt.

“For sure I do.”

“Then why not over Labor Day?

I started scratching her head. Procrastinating.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get off work.”

She just rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”

Fuck it. “You really want to go?”

“Of course I do.”

We looked at each other, I could see a suppressed grin fighting its way to a full on smile. How could I say no to that?

“Only if you promise to give me road head.”

She started laughing. “How ’bout I drive and you give me road head?”

“Ok.” I relented. “I’ll call them tonight.”

“Really,” she asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Really,” I replied, feeling good that I made her so happy.

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Of course they will. What’s not to like?”

“I know, it’s just that sometimes moms are…you know…protective.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Mom.”

“Really?”

“But you have nothing to worry about.”

The rest of the picnic was pretty boring, just more skinny dipping and sex and napping. I forgot to put on suntan lotion.

* * *

Mom was ecstatic to hear that I was coming home. The next day she e-mailed me a list of all the stuff she wanted me to do. I e-mailed back and said I didn’t want to spend my short vacation cleaning the gutters and going through bins of my high school memorabilia. I said I’d prefer to hang out and enjoy each others company. She agreed that that was a better idea. Then she asked if Liz was coming too.

“About that…” I typed.

She called two seconds later. Protective mother getting the best of her.

“You and Liz broke up, when?”

“A while ago.”

“Ohhh, dudely, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine ma. Better than fine actually. I met someone new.”

I heard the disappointment and insinuation in her voice. “Will?”

“I didn’t cheat. It was the other way around.”

“What!”

“I know. But we were pretty much done anyway. Besides, Jen makes Liz seem like a troll.”

“Jen?”

“The new girl.”

“Oh,” she said, then added, “That’s not saying much.”

“I know.”

“I never liked that girl.”

“Yeah well, neither did I.”

 

“So, is she excited to hear we’re coming to visit,” Jen asked as soon as I hung up.

“She can’t wait to meet you.”

“I’m sooo excited.”

“Babe,” I said, looking up from the couch, “you gotta stop that.” I didn’t know what made me happier, that she was going to meet my folks or that she apparently loved me that much.

“Stop what?”

“Being so happy. It’s making me horny.”

“Then you’re gonna have quite the problem,” she said, hopping on my lap. “‘Cause I can’t help it when I’m around you.”

We looked at each other like the smiling, punch-drunk idiots we were. No hints of self-consciousness or embarrassment getting in the way of love, however sudden it was.

“Doesn’t this blow you away,” I said.

“I know,” she agreed. “I never thought I’d be so in love.” She leaned in and kissed me. I responded by wrecking the moment.

“Aren’t you scared we’re moving too fast?”

She sat back and looked at me, confused, slightly hurt.

“Too fast?”

“Yeah, I mean, what if it’s not the real thing?”

Nothing.

“What if you wake up one day and think, ‘what the hell did I see in him?’”

“Don’t be dumb,” she said. “Of course that won’t happen.”

“But what if it does?”

By now she’d climbed off of me and was sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Where’s this coming from?”

Now I was silent.

“Are you feeling that way,” she asked. “Are you thinking you might wake up and realize you don’t love me?”

“No.”

“You don’t sound too convinced.”

The awkwardness came in waves.

“You love me, right,” I asked.

“Of course I do,” she replied, irritation snaking into her voice.

“No matter what?”

I was confusing her almost as much as I was confusing myself.

“Why are you asking me this?”

What the fuck was I doing?

“You remember when I was sick that time?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“I wasn’t sick.” I paused, working up the courage, realizing that once the words left my lips they could never be taken back. I was staring at her, searching her face for the compassion I knew was there, hoping it wouldn’t turn to revulsion with the admission I was about to make.

“I tried killing myself,” I said to the floor, my tone more matter-of-fact than I expected.

A weight I never knew I carried, was released from my chest. Though instantly I was overcome with the fear that the woman I wanted to love more than anyone would run out the door. I felt the couch springs release as she stood up and my heart collapsed with the realization that I’d just lost her. That I’d read her wrong. That, despite my hopes, she wasn’t the woman I needed her to be.

But then I felt her sit next to me.

I felt her warm hand take mine.

I felt tears streak down my face.

And in that instant, I realized I would never love someone as much as I loved her.