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'But I mess things up, Huey, that's what I do. I'm never in the right spot when people need me. I get it wrong. I read read it all wrong...I never quite...figure it out.' it all wrong...I never quite...figure it out.'
'Well, hey, that's life, man. Who the f.u.c.k can figure it?'
The two of us giggle from the dope.
'But you're wrong, Claire, trust me.' He inhales, he exhales. 'No one could have done more than you have. Keep going, you'll get there. You'll get to your brother soon enough.'
I shrug. I hope that he's right.
'You can't spend your whole life looking backwards,' he says. 'It's no good you dwelling on your mistakes. Regret, it does you no good; that stuff can cripple you if you let it. Believe me, it can eat you right up.'
A big puff. I hold it in for hours.
'I mean it,' he says, sitting forward in his seat. 'I made a decision this weekend. I'm going to move on, take restorative action. I'm going to get out there and claim my life back.'
'Good for you...I mean, I'm glad. Glad to hear it.'
We laugh; we don't know why this is funny.
'It's all down to Tess, that's what it is. All of this...it's all because of her.'
'How come?'
He narrows his eyes, wondering how much he should say.
'We've been talking a lot...and we decided, the two of us...I don't know Claire...I think we're pretty messed up. Tess doesn't eat enough, I obsess about what could have been...and I'm angry, I'm angry at a snake snake...it's not healthy.'
'I guess not.'
'It's not cool.'
'So you've decided to, what? Get some therapy?'
'Sort of, you might call it that.'
'I don't understand...you mean the operation?'
An enigmatic smile. A shallow nod.
'The operation. Exactly. The operation operation.'
'Well, I don't think she should do it. I'm serious, Huey, you hear all kinds of stories. They could rupture, they might break. And that surgeon...he just sounded, so cheap cheap...'
'It's going to be just fine, Claire, don't sweat it. I'm telling you, it's all going to be fine. End of the old Tess and Huey, start of the new Tess and Huey. We have it...well, we have the whole thing all worked out.'
'But you could still talk her out of it. She loves you, she'd listen to you.'
'She loves me? You think so?'
'Come on, it's obvious. She adores adores you.' you.'
Huey reddens. He fiddles with his beer bottle, clutching for a way to change the subject.
'So...uh, how come he got so wasted tonight?'
'Michael? I don't know, he'd been drinking before he got out to the park.'
'How'd his audition go?'
'Good. I think it was good.'
'I knew those two would hit it off. I kept saying to him, you've got got to come out here, this guy could totally sort out your career.' to come out here, this guy could totally sort out your career.'
'By giving him a gig at his club?'
'No, uh-uh, the Wheel is just a sideline for this guy. He has his own record label that he runs out of New York. Jazz is making a huge comeback, up there. And you know Michael, I mean, those concerts he does, they're fine, they're pretty cool, but he'd kill his own mother to make an alb.u.m. Anyway, I'm glad it worked out between the two of them. He and Michael are totally on the same wavelength. I knew something would happen when they hooked up.'
I blink my eyes. I have to be sure I have this right.
'So, let me get this straight...you'd been trying to get Michael to come out here, to Florida, to meet him?'
'Yeah, for the last six months or so. He kept saying he couldn't afford to make the trip. Kept saying he was broke, that it wasn't worth it. I don't know, maybe he thought I was spinning him a line or something.'
'No,' I say. 'He really is broke. He's still in debt to me, I paid his flight.'
'You did? That's nice of you. Michael always said you were pretty generous. Hey, when you think about it...I mean, I know it's bad circ.u.mstances and everything, but in some ways it was pretty good timing. You having to come out here and Michael being able to travel with you, sort of kills two birds with one stone. Sort of convenient, don't you think...hey, are you all right? Are you choking?'
'Smoke...too much...inhaled too much smoke.'
I'm silent for a long time; Huey doesn't understand why. He tries hard to keep the conversation going.
'So what about those meteors, huh? Huh? Huh? Weren't they, like, Weren't they, like, ferocious ferocious.'
Nothing.
'Must have been even better where you were? I mean, it must have looked better out there, right? What with it being so dark.'
I don't respond. He tries again.
'So, uh...tell me about this meteorologist guy that you ran into. Was he handsome?'
'Handsome?'
Huey is delighted that I've answered, he hands me the joint as a reward.
'Yeah, you know...Michael says you've got a thing for handsome guys. He says you like them a little...you know know...a little younger?'
My face falls even further than Huey's.
'Did I cross the line? I did, didn't I? f.u.c.k, man, I knew knew it...I crossed the line. It's only, Michael was talking about it the other night when we went out...I figured it was all in the open.' it...I crossed the line. It's only, Michael was talking about it the other night when we went out...I figured it was all in the open.'
I rub my eyes. I'm confused. Huey tries to dig his way out.
'That's how you two kids got back together again, am I right? You were dating some hot Portuguese guy? Younger than him, better looking? Made him come over all jealous?'
'Huey...I don't get this. Michael told you about...Gabe?'
Huey holds up his hands.
'Hey, I don't know the dude's name, man. All I know is that your uncle told Michael about this hot stud you were dating and that it totally ate him up.'
'My uncle uncle?'
'Rodney, right?'
'Robert?'
'That's him him...that's the man.'
Huey grabs the joint and puffs deep with relief, then hands it right back to me.
'f.u.c.k, I thought we'd never get there. Thank G.o.d. Anyway...that's what happened. That's what set him off. The fact that you'd been dating a younger guy or something...wow, this is really neat stuff.'
I drag one more time, deep and low into my lungs, trying to make better sense of it.
'So, what are you saying?...that Michael slept with me on new year's eve because he was jealous?'
'That's it. That's right. Exactly so.'
I barely have time to feel flattered.
'And because he felt sorry for you, a little bit.'
'He felt sorry sorry for me?' for me?'
'Uh-huh. That s.h.i.t-head moved right in on your sister after he dumped you, correct? Jesus, some people have got no scruples. Another hit?'
I take another hit.
I curl up next to Michael, watching him: the shallow breaths he takes, the twitches his shoulders make, the way he chews the insides of his cheeks. He's deep asleep, dreaming, dreaming, I have no idea about what. The fresh dawn sunlight is cruel to his face, illuminating every bag, every wrinkle: he looks worn out.
I had the motivation largely right. He wanted me that night because he knew he could have me, because he knew that my wounds were raw and fresh. He wanted me because he realised I'd been seeing someone else, because I hadn't gone to ground and mourned for him like he'd expected me to. I can see poor Robert nowdragging Michael into the kitchen on new year's eve while I was left talking to Mum. She's over you son, I imagine that's the way he would have said it. She's found herself a new man; someone good, someone younger. And he likes her, he likes her a lot.
Michael would have asked questions. Robert would have told him how it was: how I didn't mope around, how I got back on the bike, how I busied myself with lots of different men after we split up. He'd have thought he was building me up, but in swift turns it's likely that he buried me. Michael would have nodded and prodded and dug around, and pretty soon Robert would have crumpled. This latest man? Well, if you really want to know...yes, it's unfortunate, but they just broke up. Why? Why? Think Robert, Think Robert, think think: say something useful, something good. Well, I'm not sure I should say this...but if you really want to know, he recently switched allegiance...to her sister.
I stare right at him. I stroke his hair but he doesn't feel it. I kiss his lips but he doesn't respond. I trace his mouth with the edge of my thumb feeling for the heat of his breathing. I want him to love me. I do. I want him to wake up and see me and care for me, and I want to fall into the bitter slick of his sweaty skin. The smell of him, the taste of him, the sheer outright thrill of him, when he's ready to hand out the thrills.
He stirs. He senses me and reaches over, pulling me down into the safety of his sheets. Why did you come out here with me? I say. I came to be with you, he says. You thought it would be an adventure? Yes, since you ask, I think I did. And what else was there? Nothing. Nothing Nothing. He'd stutter; I'd have to say it for him. You almost had me, I whisper while he sleeps. Well done Michael, you almost had me.
I spread out alone in the quiet and the still, and screw my eyes up tight. I don't want to read him any more. I want a book whose pages will turn with surprises, whose subtext I don't know off by heart. I want to give myself over to a foreign body, one whose actions I can't wholly predict. One whose dialogue will take some interpreting: one whose language I don't fully comprehend.
That's Some Going.
'When will you arrive?'
'The flight gets in lunchtime tomorrow.'
'I won't be here.'
'Where will you be?'
'I'm driving up to Cape Canaveral, we think Daniel's going up there to watch a rocket launch.'
I can hear Julian crying in the background. I want to be there, to give him a hug.
'Should we change our flight, then?' Kay says. 'Should we try and come in at Orlando? It's nearer to the s.p.a.ce Centre, isn't it?'
'Yes...good idea. You might try.'
Any stoicism she had seems to have vanished, she is urgent now: frantic, bowled over.
'Julian's had the flu, he's been rotten. I would have come sooner...I didn't think...but I couldn't have travelled with him like that.'
'It's OK, it wouldn't have made any difference.'
She's quiet for a moment, she clearly thinks that it would have.
'So let me get this right. You were out by the lake, exactly where he was? But you went...you left before he got there? If you'd stayed where you were-?'
'I would have seen him, yes. Kay, I already already feel bad enough.' feel bad enough.'
'I just...I don't know why you had to move. I don't know why you had to switch around.'
There's a lull. We pause. I scratch my leg.
'So, let me know if you manage to change your flight,' I say, stiffly. 'I'm going to drive up early in the morning. I think he'll watch the launch from Jetty Park.'
'Why there? Won't he go to the s.p.a.ce Centre?'
'He and Dad watched the s.p.a.ce shuttle from Jetty Park. I think...I think he'll go there.'
I can hear the scepticism in her breathing; she thinks she knows what kind of a judge I am.
'Well, I'll go straight to Kennedy then, that way we'll have both bases covered. And I've been given some numbers, I'll bring them.'