Toxic Bachelors (31 page)

“Because I have to go to my parents'. And I can't take you with me.” With a name like O'Malley, his mother would have a heart attack. Besides, who he was dating was none of her business.

“Why are you going there? I thought you had a terrible time on Yom Kippur.” What he was saying made no sense to her.

“I did. That has nothing to do with anything. In my family, you have to turn yourself in for holidays anyway. Like a warrant for your arrest. It's not about having a good time. It's about tradition and obligation. As much as they drive me nuts, I think family is important. Mine stinks, but I still feel I need to go and show respect. God knows why, but I feel I owe it to them. My parents are old, they're not going to change, so I suck it up and go. Don't you have somewhere to go?” He looked miserable when he asked her. He hated the reminder that he had to spend another rotten holiday with them again. He hated the holidays, and always had, because of that. His mother managed to ruin every single one of them for him. The only mercy was that his parents celebrated Chanukah and not Christmas, so he got to spend Christmas with his kids. That was fun at least. Holidays on Long Island never were. “Where are you going to be for Thanksgiving?”

“In my apartment, alone. The others are all going home.” And she, of course, had nowhere to go.

“Stop trying to make me feel guilty,” he nearly shouted at her. “I have enough of that with my mother as it is. Maggie, I'm really sorry you have nowhere to go, but I can't do anything about it. I have to go home.”

“I don't understand that,” she said unhappily. “They treat you like shit. You told me so. So why would you go home?”

“I feel like I should,” he said, looking stressed. He didn't want to defend his decisions to her. It was hard enough as it was. “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do,” she insisted.

“No, I don't. I don't want to discuss this with you again. That's just the way it is. I'll be home that night. We can do something over the weekend.”

“That's not the point.” She was pushing, and he didn't like it. She was treading on dangerous ground with him. “If this is a relationship,” she pressed on at her own peril, “then I want to spend holidays with you. We've been together for two months.”

“Maggie, don't push me,” he warned her. “This isn't a relationship. We're dating. That's different.”

“Well, pardon me,” she said sarcastically. “Who died and made you king?”

“You knew the rules when we started. You lead your life. I lead mine. We meet in between when it works for both of us. Well, Thanksgiving doesn't work for me. I wish it did. Believe me, I wish it did. And I'd be happy to spend it with you if I could. But I can't. Thanksgiving with my parents is a command performance for me. I'll come home with a migraine, a stomachache, and a giant pain in the ass, but come hell or high water, they expect me to be there.”

“That sucks,” she said, pouting.

“Yes, it does,” he agreed. “For both of us.”

“And what was that bullshit about this not being a relationship? And all that meeting-in-the-middle crap?”

“That's what we've been doing. Not to mention the fact that I've been seeing you every weekend, which is a big deal.”

“Then that makes it a relationship, doesn't it?” She continued to push, missing all the danger signals from him, which was rare for her. But she was upset about Thanksgiving and not being with him. It made her braver about challenging him and his “rules.”

“A relationship is for people who eventually want to get married. I don't. I told you that. This is dating. It works for me.” She didn't say a word after that, and the next morning, she went back to her own place. He felt guilty all afternoon about what he'd said. It was a relationship. It had become one. He wasn't seeing anyone else, and as far as he knew, neither was she. He just didn't like admitting it, but he also didn't like hurting her feelings. And he hated not being with her on Thanksgiving. He hated all of it. And he felt like a shit. She was at work when he called her, and he left a loving message on her machine.

He never heard from her when she got off work. And she didn't turn up at the apartment. He called her that night, and she was out. After that, he called her every hour on the hour, until midnight. He thought she was playing games with him, until one of her roommates answered, and told him she was really out. The next time he called, they said she was asleep. She had never called him back. And by the following afternoon, he was beginning to steam. He finally decided to call her at work, which he rarely did.

“Where were you last night?” he asked her, trying to sound calmer than he felt.

“I thought this was only dating. Wasn't that the one where neither of us gets to ask questions? I'll have to look it up, but I think those were the rules, since this isn't a relationship.”

“Look, I'm sorry. That was stupid. I was just upset about Thanksgiving. I feel like a shit leaving you alone.”

“You
are
a shit for leaving me alone,” she corrected.

“Maggie, give me a break on this one. Please. I have to go to Long Island. Honest to God, I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. I don't mind if you're with your kids. That, I understand. But stop going back to spend holidays with your parents, so they can punish you.”

“They're my parents. I have to. Look, come over tonight. I'll cook you dinner and we'll have a nice time.”

“I have something to do. I'll be there at nine.” She sounded cool.

“What are you doing?”

“Don't ask me questions. I'll get there as soon as I can.”

“What's that all about?”

“I have to go to the library,” she said as he fumed.

“That is the worst bullshit excuse I've ever heard. All right, I'll see you tonight. Get there whenever you want.” He hung up on her then, and wanted to tell her not to bother to come at all. But he wanted to see her, and he wanted to know what was going on. There were at least two nights a week when he called her and she wasn't home. If she was seeing someone else, he wanted to know. She was the first woman he had been faithful to in years. And he was beginning to wonder if she was cheating on him.

He was sitting on the couch waiting for her when she got in that night, having a stiff drink. It was nearly ten o'clock, and it was his second drink. He had been looking at his watch every five minutes. She looked at him apologetically when she walked in.

“I'm sorry. It took longer than I thought. I came as soon as I could.”

“What were you doing? Tell me the truth.”

“I thought we weren't supposed to ask questions,” she said, looking nervous.

“Don't give me that shit,” he shouted at her. “You're seeing someone, aren't you? This is perfect. Absolutely perfect. For the past eleven years I've had a chorus line of women. You come along, and for the first time in years, I'm faithful to you. And what are you doing? Screwing someone else.”

“Adam,” she said quietly, sitting across from him and looking him in the eye, “I'm not screwing someone else. I swear.”

“Then where are you when I call you at night? You're out till nearly midnight. You're never goddamn home if you're not here.” His eyes were blazing, and his head was throbbing. He had a headache, and the woman he was crazy about was fucking someone else. He wasn't sure whether to cry or scream. It was poetic justice perhaps, for what he had done to other women, but it sure didn't feel good while it was happening to him. He was crazy about her. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you,” she said calmly. “I was at the library.”

“Maggie, please… don't lie to me at least. Have the balls to tell me the truth.” Looking at the agony in his eyes, she realized she had no other choice. She had to tell him the truth. She hadn't wanted to. But if he thought she was seeing someone else, he deserved to know what she was doing when she wasn't with him.

“I'm taking pre-law classes at school,” she said quietly but firmly, as he sat in his chair and stared at her.

“You're
what
?” He was sure he had misheard.

“I want to graduate and go to law school, and it's going to take me about a hundred years to get my degree. I can only take two classes a semester. I can't afford to take more than that anyway. I got a partial scholarship.” She exhaled deeply as she said it. It was a relief to tell him the truth. “I was at the library tonight, because I have a paper due. I have midterms next week.” He stared at her in disbelief and then his face broke into a grin.

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I'm not kidding. I've already been doing this for two years.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I thought you'd laugh at me.”

“Why on earth are you doing that?”

“Because I don't want to be a waitress for the rest of my life. And I'm not looking for a man to save me. I don't want to be dependent on anyone. I want to be able to take care of myself.” What she said to him nearly brought tears to his eyes. Every woman he'd ever known, or dated, wanted to take some poor slob for a ride, including him. Maggie was out there working her ass off, waiting on tables, going to college and aspiring to law school two nights a week. She had never asked him for a penny. And more often than he wanted her to, she showed up with a bag of groceries or a small present for him. She was an amazing woman.

“Come over here,” he said, beckoning her to him. She came over to where he was sitting, and he put his arms around her. “I want you to know that I think you're terrific. You're the most terrific woman I've ever known. I apologize for being an asshole, and I apologize for leaving you on Thanksgiving. I promise we'll celebrate on Thursday, and I'll never bug you about what you're doing again. And another thing,” he said, looking at her matter-of-factly, but there was a tenderness in his eyes she had never seen before. “I want you to know that I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered softly. He had never said that to her before. “What does that do to the rules?”

“What rules?” He looked confused.

“You know, the rules. Does that mean we're still just dating, or is this a relationship now?”

“This is I love you, Maggie O'Malley. Fuck the rules. We'll figure it out as we go.”

“We will?” She looked thrilled.

“Yes, we will. And the next time I tell you what the rules are, remember to tell me I'm full of shit. By the way, what's your paper about?”

“Torts.”

“Oh, shit. Tomorrow let me see what you've got. I'm too drunk to deal with it tonight.” But they both knew he wasn't that drunk. He was more interested in taking her to bed and making love. He was definitely not too drunk for that.

“Will you really help me?”

“Absolutely. We're going to get you through college and law school in record time.”

“I can't do that,” she said seriously. “I've got to work.” It wasn't a plea for help, it was a simple statement of fact.

“We'll discuss that some other time.” He scooped her up in his arms then and carried her into the bedroom.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked him as he set her down on the bed. “Or are you really drunk?”

“No, Maggie. I'm not drunk. And I meant it. I love you. I'm just a little slow at figuring things out sometimes,” although two months wasn't bad, especially for him. She smiled up at him, and he turned off the light.

17

G
RAY CALLED
C
HARLIE IN THE OFFICE THE WEEK
before Thanksgiving, and thought he sounded unusu ally glum.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing, as a matter of fact,” Charlie said. He had been thinking about that himself. The holidays were always hard for him and he hated to make plans. For him, holidays were a time for people with families to gather around and share their warmth, and for people who didn't have any to feel the bitter chill of all they'd lost and would never have again.

“Sylvia and I were wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner. She's cooking the turkey, so dinner should be pretty good.”

Charlie laughed. “Actually, I'd like that a lot.” It was an easy, painless way for him to spend the holiday with his friend.

“You're welcome to bring Carole, if you like.”

“That won't be necessary, but thanks anyway,” Charlie said, sounding tense.

“Does she have other plans?” Gray could hear that something was wrong.

“I assume so. As a matter of fact, I don't know.”

“That doesn't sound so good,” Gray said, worried about him.

“It's not. We had a major blowout two weeks ago. Carole and I are a thing of the past. It was fun, but not for long.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. I take it you discovered a fatal flaw.” He always did. You could count on him for that.

“You could say that. She lied to me. I can't be with a woman I don't trust.”

“I guess not.” Gray knew him well enough to know that once the fatal flaw had been discovered, Charlie was gone. His job was done. Gray told him to come to dinner at Sylvia's at six o'clock, and a few minutes later they hung up. Gray reported the bad news about Carole to Sylvia that night. She was sorry to hear it too.

“He always does that,” Gray said, looking unhappy. “He always looks for that one thing, whatever it is, that means she isn't a saint and can't walk on water, and then bang, they're gone, and he hits the door. He just can't forgive women their frailties or accept that it still might be okay to love them, and give them a break for once. He never does. He's so fucking afraid that he might get hurt or they might die or leave him that he hits the ejector button if someone coughs. I've seen him do it every time.”

“I take it she coughed,” Sylvia said, thinking about it. Although she didn't know Charlie well, she felt as though she did from hearing Gray talk about him. He talked about him a lot. They were more brothers than friends. And in both cases, the only family each had. Gray had told her he still had a much younger adopted brother out there somewhere, but hadn't seen him in years, and was no longer sure where he was. Charlie was the brother of his heart. And from what she knew of his history, it was easy to figure out what happened every time. He was terrified whatever woman in question would abandon him, so he ditched her first.