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Authors: Marco Vassi
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seeing you tonight, hating the idea of coming to this place, remembering all the reasons why you want to remain financially independent.” He took another sip of the martini. Everything he had just said was true. It was amazing. Once the initial lie was given and accepted as a premise, there was suddenly a space for the truth to rush in. It was much like the philosophical notion of as-if which takes as its first premise that any first premise must be a mental construct not having anything to do with the chaos of creation, but which will serve as a compass to see one through without having the boat prematurely sunk.
“And I got to thinking about our relationship. What is it now, fourteen months? And wondering what we do next. I mean, how long can we go on playing this game? So, I thought about splitting up, and that didn’t feel good. And before I knew it, my mind was jumping in the opposite direction.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this,” Gail said. She was gazing at him with open wonder.
“I can’t either,” Eliot replied, smiling openly this time, the inner and outer duplicities finally congruent. Maybe that’s what truth is, he thought, when you’ve finally got all your lies lined up like needles and you can pass a single thread through them all.
Gail put down her drink and sat up and pushed herself toward him. She took his hands in hers. Everything had been abruptly and finally forgotten. Eliot saw the change, and mused that he had been utterly successful in extricating himself from his triple bind, for this move would absolve him with Julia and stave off any possible recriminations from Martin should he ever learn of the fact that Eliot had fucked his wife. On the other hand, it was a heavy price to pay for an indiscretion.
But then, what the hell, he thought, maybe deep down I do want to get married. And the moment he allowed himself to think that, the next words came spontaneously to his mouth.
“I’ve reached the age in life where I’ve done everything else,” he said, returning the pressure of her hands. “The only thing left is to have a child. And I want to have a child with you.”
Gail leaned forward and put her face against his chest. She began to weep. Eliot and the cat regarded one another quizzically. The cat, of course, couldn’t understand the dialogue, but it knew that something rather significant was happening between the humans, and it had at least a rudimentary awareness that what affected them affected it. Eliot was taken, as many people are, by the fact that cats are simultaneously less intelligent and more conscious than monkeys, even of the talking kind, and in his state of abstraction was caught in the revolving door between the cat’s organic and psychic levels. The confusion and intensity got too much for the cat also, and it leapt lithely to the floor and strode into the kitchen to see whether the remainder of the evening’s meal hadn’t congealed too badly to be nibbled at.
Gail pulled back and looked deeply into Eliot’s eyes. Her soul was a well of questions.
“So when it came time to leave the office, I went for a drink. I figured that would make me a half hour late, but that’s no big deal. But the more I drank, the more I realized that I was going to ask you tonight. And I couldn’t get on the phone to tell you what was going on, or even just to make an excuse. You’d have picked up my agitation immediately, and perhaps been even more worried.”
“But why did you get so upset? Is marrying me such a traumatic thing?”
Eliot turned his face away. The next line would be the most difficult he would ever have to deliver, and yet it was necessary.
“I was afraid you might say no,” he told her, looking at the wall over his shoulder. The minute he spoke the words, the thought flashed into his mind. Maybe she will say no. Again, exhilaration and insecurity zipped through him, and he turned back quickly to look at her, actually curious as to how she
“And I got to thinking about our relationship. What is it now, fourteen months? And wondering what we do next. I mean, how long can we go on playing this game? So, I thought about splitting up, and that didn’t feel good. And before I knew it, my mind was jumping in the opposite direction.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this,” Gail said. She was gazing at him with open wonder.
“I can’t either,” Eliot replied, smiling openly this time, the inner and outer duplicities finally congruent. Maybe that’s what truth is, he thought, when you’ve finally got all your lies lined up like needles and you can pass a single thread through them all.
Gail put down her drink and sat up and pushed herself toward him. She took his hands in hers. Everything had been abruptly and finally forgotten. Eliot saw the change, and mused that he had been utterly successful in extricating himself from his triple bind, for this move would absolve him with Julia and stave off any possible recriminations from Martin should he ever learn of the fact that Eliot had fucked his wife. On the other hand, it was a heavy price to pay for an indiscretion.
But then, what the hell, he thought, maybe deep down I do want to get married. And the moment he allowed himself to think that, the next words came spontaneously to his mouth.
“I’ve reached the age in life where I’ve done everything else,” he said, returning the pressure of her hands. “The only thing left is to have a child. And I want to have a child with you.”
Gail leaned forward and put her face against his chest. She began to weep. Eliot and the cat regarded one another quizzically. The cat, of course, couldn’t understand the dialogue, but it knew that something rather significant was happening between the humans, and it had at least a rudimentary awareness that what affected them affected it. Eliot was taken, as many people are, by the fact that cats are simultaneously less intelligent and more conscious than monkeys, even of the talking kind, and in his state of abstraction was caught in the revolving door between the cat’s organic and psychic levels. The confusion and intensity got too much for the cat also, and it leapt lithely to the floor and strode into the kitchen to see whether the remainder of the evening’s meal hadn’t congealed too badly to be nibbled at.
Gail pulled back and looked deeply into Eliot’s eyes. Her soul was a well of questions.
“So when it came time to leave the office, I went for a drink. I figured that would make me a half hour late, but that’s no big deal. But the more I drank, the more I realized that I was going to ask you tonight. And I couldn’t get on the phone to tell you what was going on, or even just to make an excuse. You’d have picked up my agitation immediately, and perhaps been even more worried.”
“But why did you get so upset? Is marrying me such a traumatic thing?”
Eliot turned his face away. The next line would be the most difficult he would ever have to deliver, and yet it was necessary.
“I was afraid you might say no,” he told her, looking at the wall over his shoulder. The minute he spoke the words, the thought flashed into his mind. Maybe she will say no. Again, exhilaration and insecurity zipped through him, and he turned back quickly to look at her, actually curious as to how she
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