nervous
suddenly. I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming up.
“I talked to some of the guys at work and they pointed
something out – “
“No,” I say.
“—it’s only the single guys that are expected to pull –“
“No. No. No. Stop. Bad idea. No.”
He doesn’t listen.
“—these sorts of ridiculous hours, the married ones –“
“I realize you’ve rehearsed this but I’m going to turn you
down, you can stop,”
“—get a free pass on that, which got me thinking –“
“Max, I will not marry you,” I say.
He looks hurt. “Would you let me finish?” he says.
“God no,” I say. “You just told me you wouldn’t quit your
job for me and now you want to buy me a rock and expect I’ll spend the rest of
my life with you? Fuck yourself.”
“You don’t seriously think that your income would support
both of us, do you?”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” I say. “You aren’t
willing to make sacrifices for me. You’re just willing to put up with mild
annoyances. Call me a romantic, but if I get married, it’s going to be to
someone that’s going to stick with me no matter what, not someone who wants
less hours at work and a tax break.”
“I really do love you, Jeanine,” he says. “I think we’re
great together.”
I sit and think for a while. Normally I’d dismiss this out
of hand but I want to make sure I don’t burn any bridges here needlessly. Marrying
Max wouldn’t really be that bad – I like the guy a lot, he makes a lot of
money, the sex is good, and we haven’t had any issues living together so far.
Still, he’s done a really shitty job of impressing me here.
Something Tiffany said a while back strikes me.
“How long have your parents been married?” I ask.
“They divorced when I was 8,” he says.
“We’re not getting married,” I say.
“Because of my parents?”
“Because it isn’t serious to you. You’re doing this because
it’s the only way you can keep us together, not because you want to spend the
rest of your life with me.”
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“It’s a secondary consideration. You’d be willing to.”
“I think I know why I’m doing this,” he says.
When he puts it like that he just seems like an ass. It doesn’t
help that he’s wrong – I’ve learned a dozen times over that people deceive
themselves about their motivations. I don’t want to get caught up on a silly
detail, though, so I ignore it. “If you didn’t get special consideration from
work for getting married would you still want to marry me?” I say.
“Of course. Mind you, it’s in my contract that if I’m
married I get an extra three nights a week off and --”
I interrupt him. “So you’d marry me under your old hours.”
“Yes.”
“The same hours that you broke up with me over because you
felt like you were stretched too thin.”
He hesitates a fraction of a second here. “Yes.”
“We’d stay together forever?”
“Of course.”
“You’d agree to sign a pre-nup giving me all of your assets if
we divorced for any reason and half of your income thereafter?”
“That’s ridiculous,” he says.
“If we were together forever it wouldn’t matter.”
Max squirms. “That’s completely unfair. What if you had an
affair? How do I know you’re not just in it for the money?”
“If you don’t trust me why would you want to marry me?”
He opens his mouth as if to respond before comprehension
dawns, and then he sits there, slack jawed, eyes unfocused in contemplation. I
get up and grab my things. This is as good a stopping point as any, I figure.
These ideas will need time to sink in and I’ve got some things of my own to
think about.
I pause at the door and turn for a moment. “Goodnight, Max,”
I say. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
He looks incredibly crestfallen.
13
Back at Renee’s again, I spend the night trying not to feel
bad. It doesn’t work. Logically, I stand behind
suddenly. I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming up.
“I talked to some of the guys at work and they pointed
something out – “
“No,” I say.
“—it’s only the single guys that are expected to pull –“
“No. No. No. Stop. Bad idea. No.”
He doesn’t listen.
“—these sorts of ridiculous hours, the married ones –“
“I realize you’ve rehearsed this but I’m going to turn you
down, you can stop,”
“—get a free pass on that, which got me thinking –“
“Max, I will not marry you,” I say.
He looks hurt. “Would you let me finish?” he says.
“God no,” I say. “You just told me you wouldn’t quit your
job for me and now you want to buy me a rock and expect I’ll spend the rest of
my life with you? Fuck yourself.”
“You don’t seriously think that your income would support
both of us, do you?”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” I say. “You aren’t
willing to make sacrifices for me. You’re just willing to put up with mild
annoyances. Call me a romantic, but if I get married, it’s going to be to
someone that’s going to stick with me no matter what, not someone who wants
less hours at work and a tax break.”
“I really do love you, Jeanine,” he says. “I think we’re
great together.”
I sit and think for a while. Normally I’d dismiss this out
of hand but I want to make sure I don’t burn any bridges here needlessly. Marrying
Max wouldn’t really be that bad – I like the guy a lot, he makes a lot of
money, the sex is good, and we haven’t had any issues living together so far.
Still, he’s done a really shitty job of impressing me here.
Something Tiffany said a while back strikes me.
“How long have your parents been married?” I ask.
“They divorced when I was 8,” he says.
“We’re not getting married,” I say.
“Because of my parents?”
“Because it isn’t serious to you. You’re doing this because
it’s the only way you can keep us together, not because you want to spend the
rest of your life with me.”
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“It’s a secondary consideration. You’d be willing to.”
“I think I know why I’m doing this,” he says.
When he puts it like that he just seems like an ass. It doesn’t
help that he’s wrong – I’ve learned a dozen times over that people deceive
themselves about their motivations. I don’t want to get caught up on a silly
detail, though, so I ignore it. “If you didn’t get special consideration from
work for getting married would you still want to marry me?” I say.
“Of course. Mind you, it’s in my contract that if I’m
married I get an extra three nights a week off and --”
I interrupt him. “So you’d marry me under your old hours.”
“Yes.”
“The same hours that you broke up with me over because you
felt like you were stretched too thin.”
He hesitates a fraction of a second here. “Yes.”
“We’d stay together forever?”
“Of course.”
“You’d agree to sign a pre-nup giving me all of your assets if
we divorced for any reason and half of your income thereafter?”
“That’s ridiculous,” he says.
“If we were together forever it wouldn’t matter.”
Max squirms. “That’s completely unfair. What if you had an
affair? How do I know you’re not just in it for the money?”
“If you don’t trust me why would you want to marry me?”
He opens his mouth as if to respond before comprehension
dawns, and then he sits there, slack jawed, eyes unfocused in contemplation. I
get up and grab my things. This is as good a stopping point as any, I figure.
These ideas will need time to sink in and I’ve got some things of my own to
think about.
I pause at the door and turn for a moment. “Goodnight, Max,”
I say. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
He looks incredibly crestfallen.
13
Back at Renee’s again, I spend the night trying not to feel
bad. It doesn’t work. Logically, I stand behind
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