Page 29 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“I suppose I want to laugh again, I want some of the lightness back. I want my life not to be over when I’m barely halfway through. I want to not feel like I’m a failure because I got divorced.” I pause to look at him, and he shifts his body around to face me rather than the skyline. “Do you remember those books where you could choose your own destiny by skipping to various pages?”
“Like select your own story on a video game?” he asks.
“Yes, something like that. I feel like I must have chosen the wrong path at some point, that I should go back and read the book again, make different choices.”
“What would you change?” he asks, fiddling with a pendant around his neck.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing. I wouldn’t not have met my ex, I wouldn’t not have had my children. There were plenty of good times.” I pause. “I guess I always hoped I’d get to be one of those old couples you see laughing and holding hands in their eighties. Isn’t that the ending most people want for themselves? I wish I’d gotten to fall further into love rather than out of it.”
“That doesn’t sound like something you had any agency over,” Caleb says. “You can’t regret things that are out of your control.”
“True.” I nod, surprised by his considered response. He reaches out to hold my hand, then leans in to kiss my cheek, and it doesn’t feel like a move, it feels like a kindness.
“What does this mean?” I ask, pointing to the tattoo on his forearm. “Is it an ampersand?”
He nods. “It symbolizes how nothing lasts. Unlike the infinity symbol, this says there will be an end, a new beginning, a next chapter, good or bad.” His eyes flit across to my face. He pauses, rubbing his forearm. “You think it’s cheesy?”
“No, I like it,” I say, shaking my head, all cynicism uncharacteristically dormant. Though I’m not really into tattoos, I realize that on Caleb, I genuinely like it. It suits him and I appreciate the sentiment.
“Do you have tatts?” he asks, then grins. “Let me guess.” He closes his eyes, then says, “A small rose on your right shoulder blade.”
“No, never got any,” I tell him with a smile.
“Jasmine does tattoos, she’s amazing at stick and poke. I’m sure she’d do you one if you wanted.”
“Maybe,” I say, though what I mean is, “No way, not in a million years.”
When we get back downstairs, the party is heaving. Every surface has someone occupying it. Even though it’s late, I’m now wide awake. When Zeek offers me a brownie from a golden biscuit tin, I gladly take one because dinner with the kids feels like a distant memory. The brownie is claggy with a soily aftertaste, but now I’ve drunk enough beer not to care.
As the music shifts to something more up-tempo, Caleb pulls me up to dance. Looking me in the eye, he says, “You’re great,” with a beaming smile. I can’t think of the last time anyone said something that nice to me. My head spins as Caleb pulls me close in a dance. I let him, shutting off the self-conscious part of my brain that’s telling me I haven’t been this close to a man who isn’t Dan in seventeen years. It feels nice, but also strange.You’re overthinking everything,I tell myself.Just relax.
Over the next few hours, Caleb and his friends sweep me upin their music, their energy, and their optimism. Having lost all desire to go home to bed, I find myself laughing at everything, though it’s not clear what’s so funny. My heart is pounding.
“I feel a bit strange,” I confide to Caleb as we tire of dancing and sit down on a scruffy, torn sofa.
“That will be the brownies kicking in,” he tells me. “Zeek makes them strong.”
“Brownies? Why, what was in them?” I ask, feeling my forehead bead with sweat.
“Pot. Chill, it’s all good.” Caleb squeezes my shoulder.
Well, I’ve taken it now, there’s nothing to do but go with it. “I’m having the best time,” I tell Caleb.
“Me too,” he says. Then he leans in to kiss my cheek again. It’s chaste, and sweet, and makes me smile. I rest my head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around me. I feel like a teenager, sitting on this shabby couch, flirting with a hot boy.This is great. This is what I’ve been missing. My twenties weren’t that long ago, I am still that person inside, I can be that person again.
Soon we’re dancing, sweaty and wild and unselfconscious. Time becomes stretchy. I’m talking to Jasmine about her tattoo business; I’m on the balcony calling Dan. I feel confident and strong, like this is the best possible time to tell him I want him to wash the children’s clothes, that I am not a laundry service. I’m in the kitchen, Caleb is making me a cheesy toastie, there are bottles and cans strewn everywhere, but we just push them out of the way, giggling as hot cheese runs out of the sandwich and onto our hands. Jasmine is here. A great idea. An ampersand on my inner arm. Yes, yes. Just the same as Caleb’s. I’m sure,I’m sure. A pain that’s not unpleasant. More music, more dancing, someone hands me a tequila shot. My stomach tells me to stop, but this is the most fun I’ve had in years.
Caleb squeezes my hand and pulls me up from the living room sofa.How did I get back here?
“Let’s get you some air,” he says, his pupils huge.
“Sure,” I say, leaning into him, gripping his hand in mine, feeling glad I have something to hold on to while I try to put one foot in front of the other. How did I get so wasted? Caleb leads me back to the roof, the cold night air hitting me with a sobering slap. We find a group of people all vaping or passing around rollies. Caleb asks them to make room so we can join the circle.
“You okay?” Caleb asks, leaning his chin against my shoulder, and I nod. “If you’re going to puke, just let me know, I’ll grab you a bucket.” He reaches out to rub my back and in the dim recesses of my mind I make a note: if I ever fall in love again, I hope it’s with someone who will find me a bucket to be sick in.
“If there’s a God, do you think he knows he’s God?” someone in the circle asks, a girl wearing a velvet headband and a T-shirt that readsNo Problemo. “Or do you think God is more of an insentient power?”
People contemplate this for a while, nodding, as though this girl has asked something deeply profound.
