Summer People (24 page)

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Authors: Brian Groh

BOOK: Summer People
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“I think that's the only way to have a healthy relationship.”

Nathan said, “No, no. This is going to be hard. This is going to be really, really hard, but try not to be ironic and funny about this. Don't you have contempt for the guy?”

Leah opened and shut her mouth before speaking. “Okay. This is the thing. I wish you could've met my parents. When they were married, I mean.”

“Fuck. Your mom wore the pants?”

“It's not about wearing the pants. I mean, my mother is a drama queen. She'll burst into tears, on command, and when my parents were having
arguments, you would only hear my mother's voice. Earlier on in life she had been very quiet about her…about the things that displeased her. So she learned to be vocal, and she learned to be dramatic, to bring attention to herself. It's just a personality trait, you know? You have to find the right person who can handle it, and my father was that man. He was quiet, but adamant, and just as stubborn in a subtle, silent way that could be almost as unnerving as my mother's drama queen theatrics. And he never came across as being less of a man…until they divorced. He came across as being more of a man because he could handle it.”

“In other words, the more of your bullshit I endure, the more manly I become.”

“In my eyes.”

“I think I need more wine to persuade me.”

“We're almost through.”

“Refill my cup.”

“We have to pace ourselves.”

“Refill my cup!”

“Why are you shouting? Did I not just finish telling you that if I'm going to be a drama queen, then you have to be quiet?”

She had started the sentence with feigned indignation, but ended it in a cooing, pleading voice that Nathan heard as an invitation. Pushing his empty wineglass and the picnic basket away from them, he pulled her toward him again. This time she unfolded her legs to lie on top of him. During their deep, wine-soaked kisses, Nathan fumbled to unbutton her shorts and slide them off, in as fluid a motion as possible, down over her knees and feet. When he rolled on top of her she helped him pull his shirt over his head, but seemed content to paw at his chest and gently rake her nails down his back. After a while, Nathan eased himself onto his side and she helped him unbutton his jeans and tug them down, along with his boxers. Then she climbed on top. She pressed her warm stomach against his and Nathan slid his hands down her back, underneath the elastic of her black cotton panties until she slid farther down from him and stood. Nathan did not ask what she was doing. And, for a long time
afterward, whenever he thought about what it meant to be overwhelmed by pleasure, and maybe even by love, he thought of Leah standing in her faded blue T-shirt—head tilted to one side, grinning as she rolled her black panties down her hips and let them fall into the grass. When she stepped out of them, kneeling with her legs on either side of Nathan, he could feel the wet warmth of her brushing the base of his stomach and then surrounding him, tentatively at first, until they were both rising and falling and she had taken him in whole.

Nathan Confesses His Plans ~ A Chilling Cry ~ Paramedics Provide Succor and Shame ~ Night at the Hospital ~ Eldwin Draws a Circle

L
eah, it turned out, was on the pill, and the combination of this news and the wine allowed Nathan to sleep like the dead. At church the next morning, Eldwin preached about the value of the soul, and of the importance of play, but Nathan was too awash in lovely memories of last evening to really listen. It was not until he was at the club that afternoon, watching men and women swat a neon green ball with apparently endless enthusiasm, that his thoughts began to circle around the things Leah had told him about her trip to New York. Her ex-boyfriend, a musician, lived there in a house full of other artists and musicians who, when not making art or music (which Nathan assumed was quite often), undoubtedly took lots of drugs, and apparently had lots of sex.

Group sex.

Nathan had not wanted to ask Leah if she'd slept with Marcus, but maybe she had. And because she was on the pill, maybe she'd had sex with him without a condom.

Ellen asked, “Are you thirsty?”

“You want a half-and-half?” Nathan said, grateful for the distraction. In the clubhouse he chatted amiably with the old lady at the counter about her daughter who would soon be moving to Cleveland, and persuaded himself that because he was chatting and laughing, everything would be fine. He hadn't contracted some venereal disease. How many people out there lived lives much more reckless than his and had not had anything terrible happen to them?

On his way out of the clubhouse, however, he saw the old photos of the dead club members, and then, passing Ellen's glass into her bony hands, he remembered that the Dark Diceman doesn't always care how carefully you're living. More health-conscious and careful people than Nathan had died of cancer, or heart failure, or even AIDS.

As lunchtime approached, tennis matches ended and not as many began. They watched an old married couple play in a way that seemed more about volleying than winning.

Nathan did not want to go back to the dull emptiness of the house, so he suggested they go out to eat at the clam shack halfway down Oceanside Avenue. There they sat outside on park benches overlooking the cove. Ellen ate all of her BLT, but Nathan couldn't finish his clam chowder. He barely spoke. And afterward, when he asked whether she wanted to take a drive, he almost immediately wished he hadn't. Ellen often fell asleep during such trips, and Nathan had little to distract him from his thoughts. His mind was a stormcloud of imaginings about the possible repercussions of what he'd done. What if he had to explain to the woman he someday wanted to marry,
Oh, by the way, I just wanted to let you know that I have this highly contagious wart (or lesion) that will periodically appear, and if we have unprotected sex will probably transmit said wart (or lesion) to you, raising your risk of cervical cancer
…or…
Oh, hey, listen, I don't want this to upset what we've got going on here—because I think it's something really special—but I'd just feel, I don't know, remiss if I didn't mention that I have this disease that's working to dismantle my immune system until I'm emaciated, muttering nonsense, and shitting myself to death.

Nathan could handle a genital wart, or herpes. He would just resign himself to a mostly celibate lifestyle and take solitary comfort in his art; he'd become the Henry James of comics. But HIV, AIDS! Nathan could not bear the disgrace of explaining how, after suffering the loss of a wife, his father must now suffer the loss of his only son because—because of what?
Well, Dad, we're talking about a girl I was falling in love with—who is smart! With this beautiful body, standing in front of me with her pants off. I mean, I know—safe sex safe sex—but…I mean, c'mon…she didn't seem…HOW WAS I TO KNOW SHE WAS A SEETHING CAULDRON OF DISEASE WAITING TO POISON ME!

Back at the house, Nathan waited for darkness to fall. Dinner and the game shows on television seemed interminable while he waited for Ellen to finally trudge upstairs to go to sleep. The moment he heard her door close, he called Leah. When she came over, they walked quietly upstairs and lay together on Nathan's bed. He endured a brief conversation about her day with the children, then reached for her hand. They lay facing each other on top of the covers, and he worked his thumb across her soft palm. He whispered, “Hey, I was thinking about last night, and I was wondering, do you normally use the pill as your only birth control method, or do you usually use condoms, too?”

“Normally just the pill.”

Nathan nodded.

“Why?”

“I was just wondering.”

She looked at him amusedly and then told him that earlier that evening, Rachel had come downstairs for dinner and had gone through the whole meal without saying much of anything. “Normally she doesn't eat dinner with us; and God, I hope she doesn't anymore because this was so creepy I wanted to scream. The kids would ask a question and she would just say, ‘I don't know,' or nod and then just take another bite of her spaghetti.” Later, when Rachel had gone back to her room and Leah was putting the kids to bed, she heard through the floorboards the sound of Eldwin smashing dishes. “At first I thought it was an accident, but it was
just one after the other, and I think the kids were so freaked that they acted like they believed me when I told them their daddy must have dropped some things with his soapy hands. When I went down into the kitchen before I came here, there were wet sponge marks all over the wall—I guess he'd cleaned up where he'd been throwing everything—and in the trash can, there were tons of pieces of bowls and plates. He was just sitting in his living room chair, drinking a beer, reading, and when I said good-bye to him, he nodded at me like nothing had happened. Isn't that cuckoo?”

“That is cuckoo,” Nathan said, nodding, but in his smile it was evident that he was only half-listening to her story.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I don't know.”

“Tell me.”

Silence enveloped them like a heavy cloak until Nathan whispered, “I don't know. I've just been thinking about how you were in New York last week visiting your ex-boyfriend who—I don't know the guy, but he might have slept with some of the people who were having group sex the other night. And then we had unprotected sex last night. So I just didn't know if there's anything I should be worried about.”

Leah looked down at the comforter.

“Do I?”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Okay.”

Nathan wanted to leave it at that—and did for a long moment. But he could not help asking, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Nathan continued to rub his thumb gently against her palm. His whole body began to relax, free from the tremendous weight of the anxieties he had been shouldering. But when he looked up, he found Leah's dark eyes glaring at him. “What?”

“Nothing…it's just that how do I know you haven't given something to me?”

Nathan exhaled and smiled indulgently at her hand. “I haven't. I was tested two years ago and since then I've only slept with one person.”

“Your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“You always used a condom with her?”

“Well, she was on the pill for a little while. But she'd only slept with one guy before me and they were both virgins at the time. So it kind of doesn't matter.”

Leah frowned at him. “They never had oral sex with other people?”

“I'm not sure,” Nathan said, slowly, realizing his error in logic.

“Also, how do you
know
she was a virgin, or that she didn't cheat on you?”

Nathan withdrew his hand from hers. “Don't get nasty.”

“I'm not being nasty. I'm just asking how you know for sure.”

“Well, I know. Plus, the last time we slept with each other was over six months ago. So I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

The fact that he hadn't had sexual relations with anyone in over six months was more than Nathan cared to divulge, but he felt it was necessary to assuage her anger. A moment passed and Leah said, “Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about either.” They lay in silence for a long time until she rubbed her nose with the outside of her hand, eyes closed, like a sleepy child. “I can go and get tested if you want.”

“That's okay,” Nathan answered. Even if either of them had contracted something, he knew it wouldn't always show up right away.

“Please don't worry.”

“I'm not.”

After a time, Nathan went downstairs and brought back a bottle of wine. He showed Leah a few of his favorite comics, but he was relieved when she whispered that it was probably time for her to go. In bed that night, mulling over the conversation, Nathan willed himself to believe that although she never actually stated she'd refrained from having sex with her ex-boyfriend, in so many words, this was in fact what she'd told him. That was why she seemed so defensive and indignant. She didn't
want to have to come out and say directly, “I didn't have sex with my ex-boyfriend just a day or so after I kissed you.” That would have been de-meaning, perhaps for both of them, and her unwillingness to say such a thing revealed a decorousness Nathan couldn't help but find admirable. He told himself to take a deep breath, relax, and maybe the next time they were together, the bitter aftertaste of the conversation would be gone and they could simply put it behind them.

 

L
eah declined to take a walk with Nathan the following evening, explaining that the children had awakened her very early and she could barely keep her head up. But when he called the next afternoon, wondering if she'd like to share a sunset picnic on Big Beach, she said okay. He spread the blanket near the dunes and poured their wine, listening to her talk about funny things Meghan and Eliot had said or done recently. When he asked if she wanted to have children of her own, Leah said, “Why do you think I wanted to have sex with you without a condom?”

Nathan closed his eyes. “Not funny.”

Leah laughed and then swore that she was truly and honestly on the pill. She promised. She wasn't sure she wanted children. “Sometimes when I'm with Meghan and Eliot I feel like I might like to, but it also reminds me of how hard it would be. Like yesterday, I was in the car with them, and in the backseat Eliot had this old educational toy where you push a button and it plays a little song about each letter of the alphabet.” Leah sang, “
‘So N is the sound that goes nuh, nuh, nuh,'
which is fine, but Eliot kept hitting the button so it would go,
‘So N is the sound that goes, So N is the sound, So N, So N, So, So, So,'
so I was about to tear the thing out of his hands and throw it out the window.”

Nathan refilled their glasses of wine.

“I'm sure it's different when they're your own children,” Leah continued. “I know it is. I think when my parents got married, my father was a lot like I am now, but I think he kind of grew into parenting, you know? He used to come into my room at night to tuck me in, and he'd do this
thing where he worked his hands down my arms, starting at the shoulders and ending with my fingertips, and he would say that he was massaging the energy out of me so that I would sleep better.”

“Did it work?”

“It worked great,” Leah said, her lowered voice sounding a note of wistfulness.

Nathan gave a sympathetic smile as he sat up. He had been trying to lie on his side—facing her—but he found it difficult to drink this way and so sat with his legs stretched out in front of him. “Do you think the fact that your father cheated on your mother has affected your relationships with men?”

Leah frowned with such incredulity that Nathan laughed and said, “All right. Well, in what
way
do you feel it's affected your relationship with men?”

Leah shrugged. “I don't know. I'm sure it's probably made me less trustful of people in general—more cynical—to know that even your own father can act one way and be another.”

“How trustful do you feel toward me?”

“I had unprotected sex with you.”

“Mmm. Right. We did do that, didn't we?”

“How trustful do you feel toward me?” Leah asked.

“I had unprotected sex with you.”

“Yeah, and then you freaked.”

“I did not freak. I was just concerned.”

“Well, the time to ask those questions is
before
you have sex with someone. Not afterward, when you make the other person feel like a whore.”

“Tell me you didn't feel like a whore.”

“I did! Because you were acting like I might be diseased!”

Nathan said, “There are lots of people out there with venereal diseases who aren't whores, and I'm sure there are lots of people who have STDs and don't even know it. I was just trying to put both of our minds at ease.”

Leah snorted.

“What?” Nathan asked.

“I think you were trying to put
your
mind at ease, to make sure I hadn't infected
you.
When I said I was willing to get myself tested, you could've said you were willing to get yourself tested too, you know?”

Nathan looked down into his mostly empty glass, wondering if the families in the houses behind them had heard their raised voices. Quietly he asked, “Would you like for us to go get tested?”

“No, but that's because I trust you.”

To Nathan this wasn't about the trust between them. This was about whether her ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's ex-boyfriend might have unwittingly infected everyone his sexual partners had had as sexual partners. He opened his mouth to say this—but he was already exhausted by the conversation, and his thoughts were further muddled by how beautiful she looked—even angry—and how much he wanted to kiss her. “I trust you,” Nathan answered. “Sometimes I think I might be falling in love with you.”

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