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Authors: Holly Shumas
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started on me. I'd spent
half the day resisting the urge to hack Jon's e-mail. I did resist, but barely.
I wasn't sure I'd be so lucky next time.
"Well, no matter what happens
with Jon and me, I know he'll stay involved with Jacob and the baby."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's Jon."
"Hey, men leave, go on and
have second wives and hew families. Third wives and new families. It happens
ill the time."
I didn't know how to explain that
no matter what Jon had done with Laney, he wouldn't abandon his kids. Charlie
was still living in Orange County—not the OC of soapy prime-time TV with its
beautiful homogenized people and oceanfront property, but a small,
working-class town inland. When I went away to college and lived among the
other half, Charlie stayed put, barely finishing high school. He didn't know
people like Jon, who might have affairs, but they don't leave their kids
behind. While I believed Jon loved Jacob profoundly and couldn't imagine him
not wanting to love the new baby the same way, I couldn't help thinking that
one of the reasons he wouldn't sever ties was because he couldn't Stand the
world knowing he was that kind of man. A man like my dad, and like Charlie's.
Deadbeat dads. I'd never thought before about that word: "deadbeat."
I guess It was reserved for men whose hearts were so dead that they could fail
to love their own children. My mother had managed to get pregnant by two men
with dead hearts.
My silence must have thrown
Charlie, because he said, "I'm sorry, Eve. I didn't mean to upset you.
Forgive him if you want."
"I do want to, I just don't
know if I can."
"If it were me, I'd call the
bitch. I'd tell her she doesn't know who she's messing with."
I laughed. "Yeah, I'm a real
threat to her in Chicago. I'm so pregnant I can't even get on a plane."
His comment made me realize that I hadn't even gotten mad at Laney. Maybe I
should work myself up. Maybe that was one of the steps to healing. Try it, call
her a bitch. No, it just felt forced. Silly. This wasn't high school.
"What's she doing in
Chicago?"
"Living there. She works at
the Chicago office of Jon's company."
"So he's been flying off to
see her? You should get all that plane fare back in the divorce
settlement."
"Hopefully, there won't be a
divorce. And no, I don't think he's flown to see her. I mean, I'm pretty sure
he hasn't. He hasn't been anywhere this past year."
"So she flies in to visit
him?"
"I don't want to think about
it." Thinking about it conjured the image of Laney's hand on Jon's crotch.
"Well, when does he—you
know—do the deed?"
"I don't think he has."
"What am I missing here?"
"He e-mails her all the time,
and talks to her a couple of times a week. He's been hiding her from me for the
past year."
"So she's his friend,"
"That's more intimate than
friendship."
"But it's a whole lot less
intimate than sex."
"Charlie, you don't know
anything about this."
"That's why I'm asking
questions."
"Betrayal is betrayal."
It sounded like I was part of a crime family, like Jon was about to get
whacked.
"If you say so."
"I do."
"I'm just trying to
help."
I knew he was. I knew he'd stand by
me no matter what, and even if sometimes he didn't say the right things and he
surely didn't do the right things (drinking too much, quitting or getting fired
from jobs, mooching off my mother), loyalty was about all I was prepared to ask
of anyone right then. "You are helping."
"So there's that," he
said. "What else have you got?"
After hanging up with Charlie, the
desire to get into the e-mails intensified until it was like a physical
craving. I'd never been a smoker, but I imagined this was what it was like when
people first quit, when nicotine seems like air. I needed a hit, just a little
something to get me through Until morning. So I bargained with myself. I was
allowed to check only the recent e-mails to see if he'd written to Laney and
told her it was over. Much as I wanted more—to see a picture of her,
half the day resisting the urge to hack Jon's e-mail. I did resist, but barely.
I wasn't sure I'd be so lucky next time.
"Well, no matter what happens
with Jon and me, I know he'll stay involved with Jacob and the baby."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's Jon."
"Hey, men leave, go on and
have second wives and hew families. Third wives and new families. It happens
ill the time."
I didn't know how to explain that
no matter what Jon had done with Laney, he wouldn't abandon his kids. Charlie
was still living in Orange County—not the OC of soapy prime-time TV with its
beautiful homogenized people and oceanfront property, but a small,
working-class town inland. When I went away to college and lived among the
other half, Charlie stayed put, barely finishing high school. He didn't know
people like Jon, who might have affairs, but they don't leave their kids
behind. While I believed Jon loved Jacob profoundly and couldn't imagine him
not wanting to love the new baby the same way, I couldn't help thinking that
one of the reasons he wouldn't sever ties was because he couldn't Stand the
world knowing he was that kind of man. A man like my dad, and like Charlie's.
Deadbeat dads. I'd never thought before about that word: "deadbeat."
I guess It was reserved for men whose hearts were so dead that they could fail
to love their own children. My mother had managed to get pregnant by two men
with dead hearts.
My silence must have thrown
Charlie, because he said, "I'm sorry, Eve. I didn't mean to upset you.
Forgive him if you want."
"I do want to, I just don't
know if I can."
"If it were me, I'd call the
bitch. I'd tell her she doesn't know who she's messing with."
I laughed. "Yeah, I'm a real
threat to her in Chicago. I'm so pregnant I can't even get on a plane."
His comment made me realize that I hadn't even gotten mad at Laney. Maybe I
should work myself up. Maybe that was one of the steps to healing. Try it, call
her a bitch. No, it just felt forced. Silly. This wasn't high school.
"What's she doing in
Chicago?"
"Living there. She works at
the Chicago office of Jon's company."
"So he's been flying off to
see her? You should get all that plane fare back in the divorce
settlement."
"Hopefully, there won't be a
divorce. And no, I don't think he's flown to see her. I mean, I'm pretty sure
he hasn't. He hasn't been anywhere this past year."
"So she flies in to visit
him?"
"I don't want to think about
it." Thinking about it conjured the image of Laney's hand on Jon's crotch.
"Well, when does he—you
know—do the deed?"
"I don't think he has."
"What am I missing here?"
"He e-mails her all the time,
and talks to her a couple of times a week. He's been hiding her from me for the
past year."
"So she's his friend,"
"That's more intimate than
friendship."
"But it's a whole lot less
intimate than sex."
"Charlie, you don't know
anything about this."
"That's why I'm asking
questions."
"Betrayal is betrayal."
It sounded like I was part of a crime family, like Jon was about to get
whacked.
"If you say so."
"I do."
"I'm just trying to
help."
I knew he was. I knew he'd stand by
me no matter what, and even if sometimes he didn't say the right things and he
surely didn't do the right things (drinking too much, quitting or getting fired
from jobs, mooching off my mother), loyalty was about all I was prepared to ask
of anyone right then. "You are helping."
"So there's that," he
said. "What else have you got?"
After hanging up with Charlie, the
desire to get into the e-mails intensified until it was like a physical
craving. I'd never been a smoker, but I imagined this was what it was like when
people first quit, when nicotine seems like air. I needed a hit, just a little
something to get me through Until morning. So I bargained with myself. I was
allowed to check only the recent e-mails to see if he'd written to Laney and
told her it was over. Much as I wanted more—to see a picture of her,
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