The Interview (19 page)

“You were a nice compliment to the sunrise.”

“Such a trip. Then after you convinced me you weren't some
serial rapist or something I asked you to jog with me.”

“And I did.”

“Yeah. You did. And it was very cool. You had no expectations
of me. We just ran. We'd have our short conversations about nothing,
and we'd run. I hate expectations. That's my problem. When people
start expecting me to be somebody, or do something, or commit, I
freak out.”

I nodded. She had just summed up my entire existence.

“My parents died right before I graduated from college.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Long time ago. They were down in South America on some
missionary thing. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Stupid is what it was. God let them die while doing God's work. They
were probably ecstatic when it happened. My father expected me to go
to BYU, so I went to UCLA. We didn't talk for a long time. I was on a
full ride, so I didn't need to talk to them. Stupid.”

I am not good with this kind of stuff. I don't want to sound fake or
rehearsed. I always defer to silence when faced with someone reliving
a moment of deep sorrow.

She switched gears suddenly. “So my problem is that I like
guys. I like the way they smell, feel, touch, taste, everything. I
like to curl up and watch a movie or wake up and listen to them
breathe. I like being taken against a wall while my clothes are half
off. I like it slow and easy, fast and hard, and everything in
between. I like to listen to guys talk, especially when they are
carried away by something they're passionate about. I love the feel
of a man's hand in mine. I loved being held and made to feel safe.
And I love to leave and return to my independence. Because no matter
the guy, they always end up putting expectations on me.”

Sounded perfectly reasonable to me. Selfish, but reasonable.

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Probably not to most, but it does to me.”

“You're just saying that.”

“No. I'm not.” And then I told her about Frankie. Not
because I wanted to, but because Kim needed to hear it.

“I moved down here from Seattle when I was eighteen. It was on
a whim that ended up sticking. I got a job as a barback over at
O'Malley's. Moved into a two-bedroom with a guy I didn't know. When I
turned twenty-one I started bartending. Roommates changed all the
time, but I created a nice life for myself with no expectations. I
never had trouble finding a date. And I never had trouble finding
another one the next night. It was cool. I made good money. I was in
the water all the time. Didn't want much else out of life.

“This one night, a group of girls came in. Beautiful women are
a penny a dozen down here. They all start to blend together after a
while, you know? But this one, she was different. She probably had
me the second we made eye contact, but I didn't know it at the time.
I just knew there was no way I would make a move on her because if I
did, it wouldn't be the usual routine. I'd want to call her the next
day. And the next. And when she went back to wherever she came from,
my life would somehow be less because of it.”

Our next round came. I didn't order another. Kim declined as well.

“They did the girl's night out thing and left. I moved on with
my night and didn't think much of it. I got out of there about three
in the morning and there she was, sitting next to my bike. She said,
'This is yours, right?' It was a blue beach cruiser and it was mine.
She walked me home, then we went out on the beach and talked until
the sun came up. Her name was Frankie Sampson. She had just graduated
from Berkeley and was in town for the summer as an intern over at
Charles Schwab in Fashion Island.

“We watched the sunrise, then we went back to my room and
crawled into bed. We never kissed, held hands, anything. We crawled
into bed fully dressed. She lay on her side facing the wall, and I
lay next to her with my body pressed against hers. Just before she
fell asleep she asked, 'Are you seeing anyone, Kelly?' I told her
no. Then she said, 'Good.' We fell asleep.

“She lived with me that summer without ever officially moving
her stuff in. When the internship was up they offered her a job. She
accepted, and moved her stuff into my room. My roommate that summer
was a flake. He couldn't pay his half of the rent and I said see ya.
We never talked about what we were. We just were. There were no
expectations. There were unstated givens. We were exclusive. She paid
her half of the bills and I paid mine. We didn't commingle funds. I
paid for a date one time and she did the next. I went shopping and so
did she. Frankie was super smart, and she excelled at work. I fell
into the post office thing kind of by accident. Well, I thought it
was an accident, but really it was Frankie moving me out of the bar
and into a stable job that wouldn't chafe me. She was right. I liked
it.”

I paused to light a cigarette because the hard part was upon me. To
Kim's credit she didn't ask any questions or make any comments during
the pause. She just waited. She had stopped looking over my shoulder
at some point, as well.

“What can I say, life was gosh darn perfect. We did our thing
and every once in a while, just before she fell asleep, she would
ask, 'You seeing anyone, Kelly?' I would say no and she would say,
'Good.'

“Then one day she came home from work talking about a co-worker
who had just returned from maternity leave. The woman had brought the
baby in to show everyone. Frankie told the story in a kind of gee
honey guess what happened at work today way, but there was this light
in her eyes that I had never seen before. It was beautiful. I knew
that she would be a wonderful mother. I also knew that I wanted no
part of being a father.

“The next day I made an appointment with a urologist. A month
later I got snipped. I never said a word to Frankie about it. I just
did it. Six weeks later my sample came back negative. It was
official. That night I told her she could stop taking the pill. That
light, that beautiful stupid light, lit her face up in a way that
took my breath away. She was beautiful every day, but that night,
when she
heard
me say that I was ready to have kids,
she became something beyond beautiful. I paused and let her soak it
in. That wonderful feeling that was coursing through her body and
soul. And when she held her arms out to hug me in joy I told her what
I had done.”

“Oh my God!” Kim had her hand to her mouth.

I took a last drag off my cigarette, then stubbed it out.

I'm an asshole. I know, right?

I LIT ANOTHER CIGARETTE. I skipped the straw and took a long drink
from my Colada. There was more to tell, but I wanted to give her the
chance to extricate herself from this conversation if she wanted. I
thought the chances were pretty good that I had just lost my jogging
buddy. It was strange to me that I had chosen to share my darkest
secret with this woman. Nobody, not my parents, not Annette, nobody
knew what I did to Frankie.

“What did she do?” she asked. There were tears in her
eyes.

“She asked me to leave. I stayed with a guy for a couple days.
I was still tending bar on Friday nights at the time. She came in
around nine and sat down at the bar. She put her key on the bar and
just looked at me. She started to cry. The tears just kind of ran
down her face. She didn't wipe them away, just let them fall. I
couldn't move. I wanted to say something, but there was nothing to
say. I was who I was. Still am. She sat there for maybe two minutes.
Crying and staring at me. I ignored all the calls for drinks and
stared right back and shed not a tear. Then she stood and said, 'I
love you, Kelly.' And walked out.

“I started going out to watch the sunrise the next day. Every
day, I'd go out and watch the sunrise by myself and think about that
first night Frankie and I spent together. I cut it back slowly but I
ended up on the beach most mornings. That's what I was doing the day
you went running by the first time.

“I didn't see or talk to her for two years. Then one night I
got home from work and she was sitting on the front porch. Out of the
blue. There was a good-sized rock on her finger so I knew she had
gotten married. She didn't say hi. She said, 'I'm pregnant.' I told
her that was a good thing. Then she asked, 'You seeing anyone,
Kelly?' I said no. She took me inside and made love to me the same
way we had for those three years we were together. Then she left.
Every couple months she'll come into town. She plays softball with me
or we go shopping or catch a movie or whatever. We always make love
and before she leaves she always asks me if I'm seeing anyone. And I
always say no.

“She's still married. Has three kids. Super successful. She's
happy. We don't talk about her kids or her husband. I don't know
their names and I've never seen pictures of them. I don't know who
her friends are, but she knows all of mine. They all love her. My mom
told me once that Frankie has what she wants, but she still needs me.
I don't know if Mom's right or wrong, but it's better than any
explanation I can come up with.

“There's no expectations. Just the unstated given that when
Frankie comes into town, we will do stuff together, make love, and
she will ask if I'm seeing anyone, and I will say no. She's coming in
tomorrow. And I'm good with that. She'll leave on Saturday morning,
and I'm good with that, too.

“The end.”

“Wow.” Kim's tears had dried, but she still looked like
she had been run through an emotional wringer. “Didn't see that
coming.”

“Your millionaire thing kind of took me by surprise, too.”

She laughed. I hadn't lost my jogging buddy. That was a good thing.

“Yeah, but . . . wow.”

“That whole adult novelty toy gig threw me as well.”

“Shut up.”

“Listen, I told you all that because I think you had a right to
know who's really making up the foundation of your life's house.
Nobody knows that story. No one. I understand completely what you're
saying. Whatever your problem is, I'm not going to think less of you.
So spill it.”

She nodded her head several times, whether to build her courage up or
to shake off the effects of the alcohol, I couldn't tell you. Either
way, she said, “Okay. Ben, the guy at the door, isn't too keen
on my non-exclusive stance. Somehow he found out about the really
good sex guy. Last night I guess he showed up there and the really
good sex guy ended up going through his front window.”

“Where were you last night?”

“Watching
Inception
with the father of my
children.”

“Right, I forgot you told me that this morning.”

“Understandable. I wasn't really clear about who I was with.”

“No worries. I'm up to speed. So the absolutely mind-blowing
sex guy over there is possessive.”

“Very. I'm worried he's going to find out about the other two
and do something violent. Or worse, find out where my current couch
is and bust in there and do something. My friend's cool, but she's
got kids.”

“So you invited me here so he could watch us have dinner,
probably driving him slowly insane while he does.”

“Right, but I wasn't planning on having this totally killer
in-depth, heartwrenching disclosure of our lives. I mean, are you
kidding me? We just talked more than we have in the entire year
combined. Both of us deciding to drop these huge nuclear bombs on
each other. Nuts. I was thinking that I should give you a look at the
guy before I asked you what you think I should do. Wouldn't have been
fair to you, you know?”

“I know. It's cool. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yeah, I called him as soon as the really good sex guy called
me from the hospital and told me what happened. Ben swears up and
down that the other guy started it and it was an accident. I almost
believe him, but he's so big and some guys are just schizophrenic
like that. I just don't see how a guy flying through a window could
be an accident. Can you?”

“Nothing comes to mind. Let me think for a minute.”

“Take your time, I'm still trying to digest that story. You
guys should be on Oprah or something. Talk about fucked up in a
totally romantic way.”

“Tell me about it.”

I thought it over. I had an idea, but it wasn't a real good one. I
was good, but this guy was big. Ted and the drunk on Monday were
caught off guard. I couldn’t even count Jimmy. This guy
wouldn't be, and I remembered that my first thought about him was
that he looked like he could handle himself.

Screw it. I'd push him. He'd push back. The rest was semantics.

I downed the last of my drink, letting it sit on my lips for an extra
second or two.

“You trust me?”

“Yeah. Totally.”

“Kiss me.”

Her eyes got really big, but she nodded her head in agreement. I
leaned across the table and she met me halfway. Our lips touched and
there was a rush of physical desire that shocked me with its
intensity. The kiss deepened without me realizing it. I chalked it up
to two months of celibacy and the purging of demons long buried. We
broke away reluctantly.

“Oh . . .” she breathed. Her eyes were barely open and
she seemed to be reliving the moment in her mind, her lips moving
ever so slightly. “I think I just met The Rocking Kissing guy.”

Hadn't counted on that. Not one bit. I took a deep breath, then
asked, “Did he see?”

Kim took a peek and nodded.

“K. Let's walk out of here. Hold hands?”

She smiled and widened her eyes. “Mmmm hmmmm.” I was
about to take on a walking mountain and she was excited about holding
hands. Great.

“Can we do that again?” she asked as she stood up.

“That's the plan.”

“I like your plan.”