Less Difficult Truths
I put the car in the garage and stayed in the driver’s seat to rub my hands over my face. The night I’d had was startling in its strangeness. I still wasn’t certain how I felt about what I’d done and seen. On one hand, there was no doubt that Larry and Stephan were attractive, virile men. It was a privilege to witness their lovemaking. On the other hand, I was an elderly, married man. I had no business watching anyone have sex.
I was stunned when Larry said that he and Stephan had older men than me. I didn’t like hearing that because it reminded me of Madam Mitch’s whores. They were paid for sex, so they didn’t choose their partners. Because of their profession, they had to take what they were given. Larry and Stephan bought the idea of free love and because of that decision, they accepted whatever man came their way. It seemed to me that they were being taken advantage of.
I’d always been protective of Larry. I felt fatherly toward him, and a little toward Stephan because of the way he acted. He seemed like he needed to be taken care of. Back when Larry returned to Philadelphia in 1955, his father wrote to ask that I keep an eye on his boy. I’d written back and solemnly promised to do what he asked.
My promise was over a decade old, and Larry was old enough to look after himself. I wondered if my promise had expired, or if it was still in force and I’d betrayed it. Finally, there was the matter of the reefer. I enjoyed the effects of the drug a great deal. Had the three of us merely smoked Stephan’s joint and enjoyed each other’s company, it would have been a fine way to spend the evening.
I didn’t think marijuana led directly to the sex. Stephan admitted he’d deliberately gotten me ‘high’ and coaxed me toward what he hoped would turn into a threesome. I didn’t get overly angry with the young man because he’d done what he’d done with the best of intentions. I was also extremely flattered that the couple still looked at me as a sexual being. I barely looked at myself that way anymore.
I debated whether or not to tell Walt about what happened. In the short term, I decided not to. He and I had enough to deal with. There was no reason to complicate matters by announcing what amounted to a mild infidelity.
The last thing I thought of before I struggled out of the car was Stephan’s idea of how to deal with Walt while he recovers. ‘Why don’t you stick by him? Do everything with him instead of for him.’ The advice sounded good. I wondered if it was.
I decided to try it and spoke my agreement to the windshield. “Things are pretty lousy right now. I doubt Stephan’s advice will make it worse.”
I locked up the garage and made my way around the building toward the front door. I was busy trying to make the locked-up fingers of my right hand select the correct key from the bunch when the door flew open and a middle-aged woman stormed through it. She wore a black faux fur coat and a pillbox hat with some lace ornamentation on her curly, dark hair. Her lips were rouged crookedly, like her mouth wasn’t sure if it should smile or sneer. She wore a deep scowl on her face.
She reared back when she saw me. “OH! You must be the day shift.”
I assumed the woman was the nurse I’d asked Owen to arrange for Walt. Instead of telling her who I really was, I went along with her assumption. “I’m the day shift. How’s the patient?”
She thumped her black handbag against her spare stomach in anger. “He didn’t listen to a thing I said all night long. I tried to make sure he ate a good meal. He says he’s not hungry. I tell him it’s time for bed. He says he’s not tired. He finally does go to bed, so I bring him a hot water bottle to keep the chill away. He doesn’t want any hot water bottle. I offer to tuck him in. He throws the covers off like a child having a tantrum. I tried to fix his breakfast, and he had the nerve to chase me out of the kitchen. NEVER AGAIN! I wouldn’t come back to this house if they begged me!”
I almost smiled at the woman’s story of Walt’s bull-headed obstinance. It was usually a characteristic I admired when it wasn’t directed at me. I forced the smile away to present a neutral expression. “Sick people get like that sometimes.”
“Sick, my fanny! The only thing wrong with him is bad temper. No wonder his wife needed a night away. How she’s managed to stick to that one, I’ll never know. She must be one of those who likes taking orders and nothing never being good enough.”
I tried to maintain my neutral expression, but I couldn’t. It tickled my sense of humor the way the woman went on about the wife she presumed Walt had. My face slipped and I grinned. She took offense. “You think that’s funny?”
“No ma’am. I smiled because I know the woman well. She’s got a knack for keeping him in line. I don’t know what her trick is, but he’s as meek as a kitten when she’s around.”
The woman stared along her beak-like nose. “I see, the domineering type. That makes more sense.” She thumped her bag against her front again as a gesture of finality. “Doesn’t change a thing for me. I’m done. Done and finished and gone home. Good luck and may the good Lord protect you if your job is to nurse that one.” She pivoted on her orthopedic heels and went on her affronted way.
I laughed as she went. I couldn’t help but laugh. “I wish I could have been a housefly on the wall in this apartment last night.” I said as I pushed into the stairwell landing. I had another amusing thought as I locked the door behind me. “I wonder what Walt would have thought if he would have been a housefly on Larry’s wall last night.”
Walt’s deep voice filled the stairs as I got ready to climb them. “That better not be you, Nurse Ratched!”
The name was from a novel Walt read; Ken Kesey’s ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.’ It was all the rage when it was published a few years ago. I tried to read it, but I found it depressing. I never managed to finish the novel, but I remembered the name of the sadistic nurse. I wondered if the woman would have understood the reference.
“It’s me.” I called as I climbed the stairs.
“Oh…good morning. I’m cooking breakfast. Do you want some?”
“Yes, please.”
I tossed Owen’s overcoat over the living room easy chair, so I’d remember to take it back to him later, and entered the kitchen. Walt was dressed in his robe and pajamas. He even had his favorite blue carpet slippers on.
I thought about offering a kiss and a ‘good morning,’ but I didn’t know where I stood with him yet. Instead of holding out an olive branch, I parked myself at the table. My wedding ring was where I left it. There was also that day’s newspaper and a pad covered with scribbled notes, presumably from Walt’s meeting with Owen the night before.
I took up my ring and shoved it onto my finger where it belonged. I glanced at the notes, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of the disjointed words. I opened the newspaper to read the headlines. Much of what was written was the same as what I’d heard on the radio bulletin the night before. Yesterday seemed like a very long time ago.
Walt announced what he planned to cook. “I was going to make pancakes. Actually, I was going to make French toast, but there’s no bread.”
“Do you want me to go downstairs and get some bread?”
“No, don’t go anywhere. You just sat down. Do you want pancakes, or no?”
Stephan’s advice rang in my head again. I decided to follow it. I got up and opened the cabinet which held the waffle iron. “How about waffles instead?” I put the iron on the counter and plugged it in.
“I like waffles.” He set about mixing the batter while I greased the iron and set the table.
Walt cooked the waffles, and I made the coffee. When the meal was ready, we sat down to eat together. “You stink.” He observed while he carefully spread butter on his waffle.
I took the butter stick and rubbed it across the top of my waffle. I didn’t have the patience for trying to use a knife to place one little, thin slice of butter next to another, next to another. “I slept in my clothes. I went to Larry and Stephan’s. Spent the night with them.”
“How are they?”
“They’re alright. We talked some this morning. I think they need to reevaluate their lives.”
“Seems like we could all use some of that.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right, so I asked that he repeat himself. “What’s that?”
He refused with a shake of his head. “Nothing. I just wondered if there was any particular reason you said that.”
I gave him a sanitized version of my thoughts on the couple. “They’ve been living pretty hard for a while; putting their fun in front of the future. They can have both, but not in equal amounts. A future takes work.”
“And sacrifice.”
I nodded my agreement and ate a bite of waffle. “These are good.”
“Thanks.”
We ate in silence. When we finished, I got up to have a shower and change my clothes. Walt asked me to stay, so I sat back down. He shoved his plate away from himself and picked up the newspaper. He looked around on the table but couldn’t seem to put his hand on what he wanted. He grew frustrated and slid his chair out to look under it.
“What did you lose?”
He sat up to answer. “Your ring. I wanted to ask you to put your ring back on. I can’t find it. I hope that awful nurse didn’t steal it.”
I held my left hand up. “I already put it on. I hated to see it laying on the table. My finger felt naked without it.”
He pulled his chair in and propped his elbows on the table. He rested his wide jaw on top of his fists. “I missed you last night. I worried about where you’d wind up. I’m glad you went to see friends. It’s a shame you had to sleep in your suit.”
I started to say that I would probably have to burn the suit after the day and the night I spent in it, but I didn’t get the chance because he talked over me.
“Owen is going to buy into Walt’s Special. He’s going to buy a half-interest. I’ll sell him half of my half, and you will sell him half of yours. If anything happens to me or you, or, I suppose I should say, when something happens, the piece of the business we leave behind will go to Owen. We spoke to Bea last night. She’s going to have Kirk draft the contracts that way. Owen will only have to pay for his half. He’ll inherit the rest. The money will give us cash to do what we want with the time we have left, and the half-interest will give him the ownership he needs. The best part is that Walt’s Special will stay open, and I know it will be in good hands.”
I started to thank him for being so agreeable, but he talked over me again. “I also wrote a letter to David. Owen mailed it on his way home last night. I wrote to ask when the best time of year is for a visit. I know they’ve got a farm to run, so I assume the spring and the fall are bad. The little I know about farming tells me that spring planting and fall harvest take all the farmer’s time. I don’t know how busy they are in the summer. I don’t think I’d want to be in Montana in the winter, but if that’s all the time they have, that’s when we’ll go.”
I waited to see if he had more to say and we stared at each other for a moment. When I judged it was safe, I asked a question. “What did Owen say to you?”
“He told me about his grandfather who died fighting a fire. He said how his grandmother was devastated when he died. She never understood why he did what he did. They had enough money. Their house was paid for. They could have lived happily together for years if only Owen’s grandfather would have been content to give up the fire service. Owen’s grandmother is eighty years old now. She misses her husband every day. She’s lonely because he was selfish. I don’t want that for us.”
I reached out to take Walt’s hand across the table. He met me half-way with his. My right hand wouldn’t close around my husband’s. I let him apply the pressure for both of us. “I’m sorry I took my ring off last night.”
“I’m sorry for hurting you and making you worry.”
“Let’s not argue anymore. I promise to listen to anything you say as long as you agree to do the same. We’ve been together too long to fight. Let’s figure this out together.”
“I promise. Once you’re cleaned up and ready, I’ll go back to Reading with you. I phoned Ted this morning. He’ll send someone to pick up my U-drive car and take it to the rental lot.”
I leaned back in my chair to think for a second. Walt had offered many concessions toward resolving the argument between us. It was time I offered one. “Let’s stay here. It’s only two weeks and a little more until Christmas. We should probably get the decorations out of storage and see about a tree. We’ve got to get gifts for all the nieces and nephews and our friends. We’ll do it together. How’s that sound?”
He squeezed my hand extra tight. Something popped in my palm and my joints finally unlocked. He took his hand from mine like he’d burned it. “OH! Did I hurt you?”
I held my right hand up and checked its function. I could touch the tips of all four fingers to the tip of my thumb. “Actually, you helped. My hand has been locked up all morning. Whatever you did made it work again.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart, is it?”
I laughed with him. “No, it’s not.”
“Thanks for agreeing to stay here. I love the house in Reading, but I get so bored up there.”
“I understand. If you agree to take it easy, I’ll agree not to make you sit in front of anymore fires. How’s that?”
He thought my deal sounded like a good one. I stood up to go get ready for the day. He stopped me right before I left the kitchen. “When you come back, tell me about Doc.”
I was startled to realize that I’d nearly forgotten about Doc. “Alright, maybe that’s something we can do together, find Doc.”
I went to get cleaned up.
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