Intensive Therapy Part 35

"So, Jennie doesn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That you love someone else."

"Did it ever occur to you that someone could love more than one person? And that there's more than one kind of love?"

"What's that? Psycho mumbo jumbo for cheating?"

"Cheating?" Jonas reacted vehemently. "How many times in the last twenty years have I had to endure your accusations? It took me all this time to figure it out; you're jealous, because I have something in my life that you don't. Do you really believe I would skulk off from my family to attend to a mistress? Are you out of your mind? What kind of person do you think I am?"

"Explain it to me, then."

"Why should I?"

"Because I've always been there for you. Because I stuck up for you every time Pete doubted you. Because I helped you get started in the city. Because I've done a million things for you over the years. You owe me an explanation."

"Back off, Eddie. I'm warning you for the last time."

"You owe me an explanation," Eddie insisted.

White heat surged up Jonas's spine. "I'll explain myself to you after you explain to me why you f.u.c.ked some twenty-year-old babe three days before you got married."

"What?"

"Don't bother to deny it. I know all about it. How many others have there been since then, Eddie? One? Ten? A hundred?"

Eddie stared at the ground for a long time. "It happened only once," he said.

"I don't believe you. I saw her in the neighborhood more than that."

"How did you know?"

"You left the used condom in the kitchen trash can. It was disgusting. How do you think I felt, finding that right before your wedding?"

Eddie hunched forward.

Jonas said, "She pa.s.sed by me on her way out just as I came in with coffee and The Morning Sun. You never knew I was there."

"We did it only once, Jonas. I swear. She lived around the corner. I went jogging, and there was this beautiful girl with auburn hair and a figure to die for. She smiled each time I circled the neighborhood. But I barely remember her face."

"I do," Jonas said. "Drop-dead gorgeous. She looked like a movie star and carried herself like a debutante."

"Her name was Jane. From Weymouth. She had a British accent. I remember her outdoorsy smell; I'd never been that close to someone so beautiful.

"She said she was in Baltimore temporarily, nannying for a friend of the family. I was so nave. Jonas, you could have knocked me over with a sledgehammer. I couldn't believe she was. .h.i.tting on me."

"Why not?"

"Because I was just another average-looking guy about to marry some nice Jewish girl I'd been dating forever. I was nothing special; I played by the rules."

"Rules. Whose rules?"

"Whose rules?" Eddie grunted plaintively. "You think anybody sat me down and told me?"

"What happened that night?" Jonas asked.

"She said she had the evening off. Her accent made her seem older. She wore a dark brown skirt with b.u.t.tons down the side. She was thirsty, so we went to No Fish Today on Howard Street. She ordered ginger ale. I told her I was getting married soon, but instead of being put off, she seemed curious. She talked about her parents. Her father was a doctor, or a diplomat, I'm not sure. She asked where I lived, so I showed her my room."

For the first time in his life, Jonas felt his brother was speaking to him as an equal.

"Something came over me, Jonas," Eddie continued. "For an instant, I was a different person. No one expected anything from me. Time stopped. I'm sure I was trembling, because it took forever to undo all those b.u.t.tons. She looked so beautiful when she was naked." Eddie looked off into the night. "She was disappointed by the s.e.x, I could tell. I think I hurt her. I never got the chance to make it right. In the morning, she thanked me for the evening, very properly, as if she were thanking a parlor maid for having poured a lukewarm cup of tea. I tried to walk her home, but she wanted to go alone. She must have pa.s.sed you on the way out."

Jonas said, "I wondered what she was doing there. I went to the kitchen, because I needed a paper towel. When I opened the trashcan my first reaction was astonishment. I thought, 'How did this get here?' Then I remembered that you never went to sleep without emptying your bathroom wastebasket. 'How can he be doing this?' I asked myself. 'He's getting married in three days!'"

"Did she say anything?" Eddie said.

"No, but she looked at me as if there was a family resemblance. So, was it worth it?"

Eddie seemed to smile and cry at the same time. "Yes and no. Mostly no. I felt awful about having disappointed her. And about being unfaithful to Margo." Eddie scooped some sand with his right shoe and flipped it over. "I was scared s.h.i.tless about getting married, and I had no one to talk about it with."

"You never thought of saying something to me? Your own flesh and blood?"

"I was the older brother. I didn't want to disappoint you."

"It's too bad you didn't know me better. There's still time."

"Time for what?"

"To get to know me better. You might be pleasantly surprised. Your Jane was a beautiful young woman. I would have wanted to know her myself. She wasn't sleazy at all."

"No. She was a gentlewoman. I was the one who felt that way."

"So, that's what you've been projecting onto me all these years; that I'm a sleazebag, because I have a thing for a woman I've known half my life-a lot longer than you knew Jane."

"Well ... what about when Jennie finds out about this 'thing' of yours?"

"She knows all about her. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't keep secrets from Jennie? I hadn't heard from the woman in twenty years, until the week before Thanksgiving. You'd be one lucky man to have someone like her in your life," Jonas said. That simple statement crystallized coherently what he had been feeling.

"She must be something. You've never slept with her?" Eddie said.

"For the last time, no."

"You admit you love her?"

"That's right. I do."

"What about her? Does she love you?"

"She's married to a man who adores her. She'd fall apart without him. I could never do anything that would threaten her stability or their marriage."

"How do you live your life married to one woman while you love someone else?"

"Don't you understand? I love them in different ways."

"You don't want to sleep with her?"

"No, I don't."

"So, what do you get out of it?"

"She needs me; at least for the time being. I matter to her. Knowing that makes life better."

"What is she, some friend from high school?"

"It's more than that."

"What is it, then? I want to understand."

"We grew up together. It's as simple as that."

"I didn't think therapy was supposed to work that way."

"Neither did I."

"I don't understand."

"I don't know if you can. You see, twenty-five years ago, psychoa.n.a.lysts believed therapy was a one-way street. a.n.a.lysts were expected to be blank screens onto which their patients played out their conflicts. It looked pretty on paper, but the result was a stilted pseudo-relationship. A natural connection goes both ways, but back then, a.n.a.lysis was an exercise in mutual deprivation. a.n.a.lysts cared more about their patients' conflicts and free a.s.sociations than they cared about their patients' lives. I knew that wasn't right, so I searched for another way to look at therapy. She was one of the people who helped me find my way. We nourished each other. Do you see?"

Eddie said, "It's like a dance."

Jonas smiled. "You must have read my mind. I was just thinking that. Therapy is music, spontaneous and intuitive. Sometimes it feels like improvisational jazz. The music I make with Jennie is like the waltz in Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings, lilting and melodious. Even though I'm still mad at her right now, I wouldn't give that up for anything. The music I make with her is different, more like Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. She's fierier and more unpredictable, but that doesn't mean I want to live my life with that. I've met her husband; he's devoted to her. And they trust me."

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you all these years."

"It's over and forgotten."

"That's easy for you to say, Jonas. It doesn't mean that I forgot my night with Jane."

"Oh," said Jonas, moved close to tears by his brother's revelation. The breeze stopped and the night went silent.

Eddie ground the remains of his cigar into the sand. He said, "Why didn't you say something before?"

"Dad told me the same thing he told you. The summer before he died, he asked me to look out for you. I didn't want to hurt you, or Margo."

"Are you going to say anything to her?"

"I'll take it to the grave. I always knew it was because you were scared about your future. Isn't everyone?"

"You were that insightful even before you went to shrink school?"

"It's the way my mind works. It's too bad I didn't have that same natural talent for music as I did for figuring out how people worked."

"You would have gone for a life in music?"

"Probably. But that would have meant a whole different life: no Jennie, no Gil and Gracie." A wave of sadness and nostalgia came over Jonas. "Suppose you had met Jane earlier when you were unattached. Have you ever thought you're living the wrong life? Someone else's life?"

"There's no way of going back, is there?" Eddie said.

"No, there isn't. I dream about it sometimes. Four days from now, some man will mount the podium in Vienna and conduct the New Year's Eve concert. At that same moment, I'll be sitting on this beach; or maybe having a drink with my in-laws; or rehearsing Gil's play. I've dreamt about conducting that New Year's Eve concert since I was ten years old. I can smell the flowers decorating the proscenium. I'm holding the conductor's baton. I can feel my hands quiver during the opening tremolo of the The Blue Danube Waltz, which is always the second encore."

Eddie meandered toward the waterline, where the moonlight turned the breaking waves into foamy swirls. Jonas followed, but not too closely. Eddie went a good ways out before he turned around.

"I envy you, Jonas," Eddie said, "the fire, the life within. I live my life in black and white. You live yours in high-definition color. I wish I felt emotions like you do."

"It's not all sunshine and roses, Eddie. Believe me. My world can smell very dark and musty. n.o.body gets through life unscathed by regrets. n.o.body."

"Do you know how much it hurts? How sad it makes me feel?"

"You said you want to feel your emotions. Welcome to the world of the living. It's not all it's cracked up to be, is it?"

"I'd rather deal with it."

"Good for you," Jonas said.

"I want the next part of my life to be different," Eddie said.

"Are you and Margo all right?"

"Who knows, Jonas? Who knows? I'm a cliche: a middle-aged attorney with an overpriced co-op I can barely give away, much less sell. The kids'll be gone before I know it, and unless I reinvent myself I can see Margo taking up journalism and running off with one of her writing professors. I need something more. I need pa.s.sion."

"Of course you do, Eddie. We all do. It's what I mean about her."

"We married young, not like you and Jennie. It was straight down the rails for me. College, law school, kids, partnership, Speller and Bodenheim."

"You did well, Eddie. I'm proud of you. You'll figure this out. Maybe I can help."

"Really?"

"Don't act so surprised. No one knows you better than me-except for Margo, and even she doesn't know you like I do. I know how much there is to you. Pete gets the limelight, but you were the person who taught him how to talk the other side's expert witnesses into supporting your argument while getting them to expound their beliefs. It's just this side of devious. That's more than talent, Eddie. It's a gift. You get people to admit things after half an hour that would take me two vials of truth serum. You've turned interrogation into an art form. Don't you want to share that with the world?"

"Sure, I'll put it in my autobiography."

Jonas grabbed sprig of dried seaweed and pointed it toward Eddie. "If you don't, who will?"

"Seriously, Jonas. Who wants to know that half a lifetime ago, some wet-behind-the-ears lawyer made love with a beautiful young woman who's lost to the pages of history? Who wants to know that I got married the following Sunday and every so often I wonder about that woman? What happened to the rest of her life? Did she become a mother? Did she die young? Did she change the world? Does she even remember that night?"

Jonas thought about the afternoon he and Victoria met, and what would have happened had their paths not crossed. "I bet she does."