Joel came over tonight. We fed him McDonalds (fries and Big Macs for everyone because Bridget is fucking tired, okay?) and then he and I settled in to watch the Leafs trounce the Sens 4-1. I don't care if it's preseason, I'm ready with my bets and I'm already winning along with my team.
After the game we took our tea outside in the back yard, settling into the big hammock, our feet in each other's faces, side by side but heads at opposite ends, tea mugs set on the stones below. The sun set a little while ago. Half the lights on the point are on. It's beautiful tonight. The calm before the storm.
Think they'll keep Nylander? Joel asks. I note the exhaustion in his voice.
Yes, I nod. I'm sure of it. He's a jewel in the NHL. The Leaf crown needs a full set this year and Ennis is a wildcard.
(Wait. Do you even care what I think about hockey? Well, too bad.)
True. Joel settles back and tucks his hands under his arms, closing his eyes.
You should go.
Talk a little first.
About?
You and your work situation.
What about it?
It's great.
Oh, is it?
Yes. It wears you out, keeps your brain busy. You don't have to time to slide into a depressive episode-
You mean I don't have time to think about Jake and then later I'm too tired to think about him.
Yes.
How healthy is it to not address my emotions? Or allow myself to feel these things?
That's not what I-
I know what you mean. Everyone's so happy now. It's been almost six months since I got the job and look how fucking functional. It's a house of cards, Joely.
What if it's not?
Explain it to me. But fast. It's time to go. We climb out of the hammock awkwardly but without embarrassment and pick up our teacups, bringing them in through the patio into the kitchen and then I walk Joel to the front hall to collect his things. I walk him out to his car. He turns after opening the door, bends in to kiss my temple like that's normal for him (Jesus, it's not) and then smiled in the dark.
What if it's a sea change of sorts?
Oh it isn't. Jacob is larger than this life. He casts a shadow on the sun.
How do you know it's his?
What do you mean?
Did you ever stop to consider the fact that maybe you're seeing your shadow and not his? Maybe Bridget is larger than life. Maybe you're investing in the wrong central character here, of your story. Think about it. He smiles kindly, sweetly. The Joel I remember before things went to hell and he closes the door and drives away. I stand there for so long staring at the point where the driveway is swallowed by the woods thinking about his words that I don't notice PJ come out and when he speaks I jump out of my skin.
I thought you left with him.
I turn and stare at him. Why would I do that?
You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.
I did. It looked just like me.
And I turn and head inside, leaving PJ wondering what I meant, looking up toward the woods curiously.
After the game we took our tea outside in the back yard, settling into the big hammock, our feet in each other's faces, side by side but heads at opposite ends, tea mugs set on the stones below. The sun set a little while ago. Half the lights on the point are on. It's beautiful tonight. The calm before the storm.
Think they'll keep Nylander? Joel asks. I note the exhaustion in his voice.
Yes, I nod. I'm sure of it. He's a jewel in the NHL. The Leaf crown needs a full set this year and Ennis is a wildcard.
(Wait. Do you even care what I think about hockey? Well, too bad.)
True. Joel settles back and tucks his hands under his arms, closing his eyes.
You should go.
Talk a little first.
About?
You and your work situation.
What about it?
It's great.
Oh, is it?
Yes. It wears you out, keeps your brain busy. You don't have to time to slide into a depressive episode-
You mean I don't have time to think about Jake and then later I'm too tired to think about him.
Yes.
How healthy is it to not address my emotions? Or allow myself to feel these things?
That's not what I-
I know what you mean. Everyone's so happy now. It's been almost six months since I got the job and look how fucking functional. It's a house of cards, Joely.
What if it's not?
Explain it to me. But fast. It's time to go. We climb out of the hammock awkwardly but without embarrassment and pick up our teacups, bringing them in through the patio into the kitchen and then I walk Joel to the front hall to collect his things. I walk him out to his car. He turns after opening the door, bends in to kiss my temple like that's normal for him (Jesus, it's not) and then smiled in the dark.
What if it's a sea change of sorts?
Oh it isn't. Jacob is larger than this life. He casts a shadow on the sun.
How do you know it's his?
What do you mean?
Did you ever stop to consider the fact that maybe you're seeing your shadow and not his? Maybe Bridget is larger than life. Maybe you're investing in the wrong central character here, of your story. Think about it. He smiles kindly, sweetly. The Joel I remember before things went to hell and he closes the door and drives away. I stand there for so long staring at the point where the driveway is swallowed by the woods thinking about his words that I don't notice PJ come out and when he speaks I jump out of my skin.
I thought you left with him.
I turn and stare at him. Why would I do that?
You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.
I did. It looked just like me.
And I turn and head inside, leaving PJ wondering what I meant, looking up toward the woods curiously.