The Sportin' Life (21 page)

Finally I laughed a bitter laugh.
“
Life is hard, Tawn. Love is hard. Relationships are hard, whether they work or not. Sometimes I think we
’
re all doomed to remain prisoners in this black comedy version of some love connection type TV show.
”
But as I spoke the words, I realized something
—
that the pain was gone. This girl who had stolen my heart had returned it intact to me, and now we could be friends or friendly acquaintances, or even former lovers no longer in touch. It didn
’
t really matter any more because my heart was liberated and so was I. Even Tawny smiled more cheerfully. Perhaps things would improve for us both.

Everything was better after that moment, including the food, which we ate relatively cheerfully as we let ourselves enjoy the moment and the meal. We were congenial again, and we shared a few laughs, the good conversation, and positive exchanges that had always characterized our relationship. But it never occurred to either of us that we were going to retreat back into a love affair because we had gone beyond that to another place from which we could no longer connect on that plane. Like space travelers who had overshot their mark, our window of opportunity had passed us by. Strangely, it didn
’
t matter, though, because I felt peaceful and calm and restored.

When I was ready to leave, I opened my arms for Tawny and she stayed there a long time in a passionless embrace that was warm and loving. Our dinner was over and our lives had taken new turns down separate pathways, something we both acknowledged silently. I thought nothing of Tawny asking me to drop off a few movies at the video store on my way home, something small that I was easily able to do for her now that all the greater things I had imagined sharing were no longer within our frame of reference.

What a relief that our paths had crossed again, or who knew but that all the resentment and pain I felt would have stayed buried within my system like decade-old toxins weakening my vitality. I opened my window to feel the wind on my face as I drove to the video store, and I let any last remnant of despair blow away.

After handing in the movies, I was planning to return home to tell Liana all about my evening, when I decided instead to walk through the aisles of the store, checking out the movies in an aimless way. I love movies, and there are very few that I haven
’
t seen on first release, but it
’
s also fun to collect them so that they
’
re available to watch at home in the den whenever I want.

It was then that I spotted this amazingly healthy looking girl. I walked right over to her, thinking we would have a conversation about movies for a while, sort of to reorient myself back into the present and to let my tension-packed evening with Tawny fade completely. She smiled at me and I couldn
’
t help returning her grin, so full of merry anticipation, as if she knew who I was and somehow was expecting me.

“
Can I help you find a movie?
”
she asked smoothly, in a voice that was so lively and bright that I just wanted her to keep talking.

“
Well, I
’
m really just browsing, now, but if you have any suggestions, I
’
d love to hear them.
”
I sounded like a customer, and she sounded like a salesperson, but it seemed that we were just reciting lines, because the real conversation we were having was taking place in our eyes, eyes that had locked and refused to let go. Her eyes were brown and flashing with the most amazing lights that I thought to myself they twinkled like rubies, which I know made no sense at all since rubies are red, but it seemed to fit nevertheless. I looked in those ruby twinkling brown eyes and felt myself falling into them, like Jimmy Stewart felt himself falling down the stairs in
Vertigo
. There was an intensity to them, and more than that I recognized something within their depths that held me there, fascinated and aware that the light I saw within was a light that was somehow familiar. It seemed that she was having a similar sense of recognition as well.

We began a conversation about movies that took all my energy to continue because my mind had become so unfocused. She asked,
“
What sort of movies do you like, action-adventure, romance, comedy, drama?
”

I caught my breath and answered,
“
I like them all. I love movies.
”
And as I spoke casually, I was flooded with images of this girl and me together. I saw her soft body lying cradled in my arms in a big four poster bed, a bed I don
’
t even own. I saw soft arms and soft breasts as a pillow for my head. I imagined her warm thighs pressed companionably against my own down deep in that old fashioned bed, a billowy down comforter sealing us in and the world out.

On the monitors throughout the store, Fred Astaire was dancing and singing to Ginger, and the lyrics he sang wafted through my thoughts, punctuating them and our conversation.
“
I was a roaming Romeo; My Juliets have been many.
”

“
I love movies too. What
’
s the last great movie you rented?
”

I watched her lips move in slow motion as she uttered that simple phrase, words my ears strained to hear and understand. Instead my mind was seeing those lips on my lips, and then the sweet rosebud lips of an infant blowing baby bubbles and curled against her arm. I saw her in a kitchen filled with holiday preparations while children ran in and out requesting early samples of the feast. I saw her merry eyes as she gazed on them with pride and understanding. I saw myself seated at the table in the center of the room, and as she passed back and forth in her labors, she would stop to brush her fingers along my neck, to put a morsel into my mouth, to laugh as my hand swatted her on the ass.

And Fred continued his own declaration,
“
But now my roaming days are gone.
”

“
Well, I saw
Midnight Run
again the other night. Did you see that?
”
I hoped she had seen it because for the life of me I couldn
’
t recall a single scene, except for the fact that I remembered loving it.

“
Yeah I loved it, exciting, touching, funny, all at the same time. Great script.
”

“
I
’
m putting all my eggs in one basket. I
’
m betting everything I
’
ve got on you.
”
Fred had made his commitment and I heard his voice singing but my mind was elsewhere.

I saw us together as an old couple, sitting on a porch, rocking in rockers. I saw her hand, gnarled and blue veined, resting easily on my own. I saw a pitcher of lemonade next to a family album and heard the sounds of birds singing in the distance.

I saw the days pass and the years blow away like wheat rippling in the fields of the heartland of this country. I saw the kisses and the shared moments of ecstasy, the battles and the reconciliations, the time and the moments, melting together in a timeless wonder of perfection and eternal peace. I saw the future and it overwhelmed me with joy, with the perfection of human life, as we all play out our little dramas through the years, years that are but a whisper in the eternal roar of time everlasting.

And as Fred continued his song, its lyrics echoing in my head in sync with the rhythm of my own pounding heart,
“
I
’
m giving all my love to one baby
—
Lord help me if my baby don
’
t come through,
”
I stretched my hand out and pressed it against the soft sweet curve of her neck. Then I bent down to reach her mouth and kissed her.

Lou

Uncontrollable Impulses

The day I ditched Tawny, Kevin did a disappearing act at my door while one of his hysterical, weepy females threw herself into a frenzy of despair on the front stoop. I observed the whole soap opera from my picture window, and assumed that after Kevin shrugged the girl off and drove away in his Jag that she would get the message and retreat to her cave to lick her wounds. Instead, she stood there at my door, becoming more and more hysterical, and I began to think that she would need a massive dose of Valium or something. Finally it seemed imperative to go out there and attempt to calm her down before one of the neighbors called the police.

Holly
—
her name was Holly
—
collapsed in my arms like a rag doll, and I decided to bring her inside until she was in suitable condition to leave. Women. They
’
re so much more trouble than they
’
re worth that it almost makes sense why men turn gay. You hardly ever hear a heterosexual described as even cheerful, let alone gay, what with all these females crawling around trying to snake the life out of our very existence. As I thought about it, I almost changed sides and became a fan of my cousin Kevin. Maybe he has the right idea after all
—
use them up and dispose of them like those plastic razors that come in packages of twelve.

If only I could do it with the aplomb that Kevin manages. He always convinces himself that his reasons are the best, that his actions are more than justified. Here, I knew that dumping Tawny was more than reasonable on my part, hell, it was dump her like ballast thrown overboard on a sinking ship or watch my bank account plummet faster than my erections. But I still felt regret, and more than that, fucking loneliness. It was nice to have somebody in my life, even if she was nothing more than an overpriced whore. Now the holidays were coming up and I would be alone as usual, unless you count Kevin, and I
’
ll be damned if I
’
ll count Kevin.

Holly wept in my arms in long, rasping sighs, while I tried feebly to comfort her, all the while letting my mind ramble over my own circumstances. Eventually she calmed down and began quizzing me about Kevin
’
s motives. Could I explain the motives of Don Juan? I doubt that even Freud could get an easy handle on this one, but I tried.

“
Look, honey, try not to drive yourself too crazy over my cousin Kevin. He
’
s just a chronic heartbreaker. There
’
s something wrong with him. He
’
s a ladies
’
man, and believe me, I
’
ve seen lots of women in your shoes through the years. It
’
s just the way he operates. He
’
s not a nice guy.
”
I thought this speech would calm her down, but she stared at me in a wide-eyed, innocent way, like some kind of kindergartener trapped in a den of thieves.

“
No, I
’
m sure you
’
re wrong. Kevin is a wonderful person. Um…I don
’
t know your name…I
’
m Holly.
”

“
Lou, my name is Lou, and believe me Holly, I
’
m more of an expert on Kevin than you
’
ll ever be.
”

Holly shook her head at me as if she were sure that I was the one who was out of it, and gradually her poise returned. I made us some coffee and we sat at my kitchen table, chatting about everything and nothing and avoiding the reason she was there in the first place.

This was a sweet kid. I liked her a lot and I began to think about dating her. What the fuck? At least I knew that she
’
d be one woman that ol
’
Kevin would never try to take away from me because he never returned to the ones he tossed aside, not with so much fresh territory out there to conquer. It could be great in fact, especially with Kevin living there in my house. I could have her spend lots of time with me at the house and he
’
d have to confront her over and over again. I
’
m sure he wouldn
’
t enjoy that at all, but it would certainly provide some amusement for me.

I didn
’
t even have to ask for Holly
’
s number, because before she was ready to leave, she asked for mine and gave me hers, saying that we might need to be in touch, whatever that meant. Far be it from me to try to fathom the mind of a broad with a fucking broken heart, because even under happy emotional conditions, most of them can
’
t think all that straight.

Within a few days, before I ever got around to calling her, she called me, and I thought that maybe she was going to ask me out to save me the trouble of making the first move. Instead she wanted to know about Kevin. How was he doing? Did the little cold he was getting get better or worse? Did he move into his house yet? Was he seeing anyone else?