Sassafras, Part 65


Joan

I was happy. It was a wonderful feeling. I managed to cook dinner, and it was good. Even Billy liked the tacos. I sat back and watched Rick fix what must have been his seventh or eighth taco. Everything seemed to be going right all of a sudden. Billy wasn’t mad at me anymore. He was even getting along with Rick now. I was glad Billy hadn’t mentioned anything about Rick moving in, but part of me wondered what Rick would have said. What would he say if I asked him?

I couldn’t believe how much had changed in just a few days. How could I even be thinking about moving back to Sassafras? Had I completely lost my mind? Or would it be crazy to go back to New York, to drag Billy along with me and leave Rick behind? As much as I liked to think Billy would learn to love New York, I had to admit that might never happen. And what about Rick? I wouldn’t be able to just walk away from him and pretend everything was okay. As much as I loved New York, I would rather stay here with Rick. Of course, if I had my way both of them would move to New York with me.

“That was delicious,” Rick said when I joined him on the couch after clearing the table.

“It was good, wasn’t it? You know, I can’t even remember when was the last time I cooked anything but cookies or Ramen Noodles. I always just grab some take-out on the way home or have something delivered. The only time I ever eat with anybody but my cats is when I go out with clients from work. How could I be such a looser and never even notice?”

“You’re not a looser. You just had more important things to do than cook.” He leaned back and put his arm around me, pulling me up next to him.

“Yeah, more important things. Like convincing one rich man to buy a building from another rich man. It’s not like I was searching for a cure for AIDS or fighting for world peace.”

“But were you happy? That’s all that really matters.”

“I thought I was. Now, when I think about New York, it’s empty. Like New York is hollow. There’s nothing inside.”

“What about when you think about Sassafras? What do you feel then?”

“Convenient,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Convenient? What do you mean?”

I looked away and sighed. “It’s a long story.”

”We’ve got all night.”

He wasn’t going to let this drop until I relived the whole painful ordeal. I wished I’d kept my mouth shut, said something else. I should have told him thinking about Sassafras left me breathless and excited. I knew that was what he wanted to hear, but that wasn’t the truth. Breathless, yes. Excited, no. More like terrified, worried, maybe even a little nauseous.

“I’m convenient. That’s what Justin, my first boyfriend said. At least, I thought he was my boyfriend. Turns out I was wrong. We used to study together in college. One night he just leaned over and kissed me while we were studying. I was overjoyed. He loved me. At least, that was what I thought. Of course he loved me. Why would he kiss me if he didn’t love me? Sure, he never actually said he loved me, but guys don’t like talking about their feelings and emotions, right? After that we started studying less and less and making out more and more.”

“I had never been so happy in my life. I would have done anything for him. I did, you know, do anything for him.” I still remember that night. What should have been the most romantic moment of my life ended up being an awkward 20 minutes in the back seat of a Monte Carlo. I didn’t tell Justin it was my first time. I didn’t want him to think I was some kind of freak. I don’t know why I thought still being a virgin when I was 20 made me somehow defective.

“About three days later I found out he had a real girlfriend. I was completely devastated. I told him I loved him and he laughed at me. He called me a slut and said he had never really been attracted to me, he was just bored while his girlfriend was at work. I had just been convenient. Lucky me. Convenient. I can’t stand that word. Just saying it makes me feel sick.”

“My love life never really got much better after that. Sooner or later I always realized I was just convenient. After the last sorry excuse for a boyfriend I promised myself I wouldn’t be such a pushover any more. The only person with any business down there was my gynecologist.”

“And then I met you. I barely knew you 24 hours and we were in bed. So much for love and commitment and respect. But I’m not complaining. I wanted you. I remember when I saw you at Tanner’s, I thought you were the most perfect man I’d ever seen. And then you turned out to be so funny and nice. Even more perfect. But now, I don’t know. Deep down, I still feel convenient, like the only reason you’re here is because you don’t have anything better to do. What if I’m right? What if I move back here and then discover you aren’t as perfect as I thought? What if I am just convenient?”

“Don’t worry, Babe. I’m nowhere near perfect, but you’re not convenient. I’m here because this is where I want to be more than anywhere else in the world. Right here with you.”

“That’s nice to hear,” I began, trying to choose my words carefully. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I guess I’m like one of those girls with an eating disorder. No matter how many times you tell them they’re skinny they still feel like they’re fat. It doesn’t matter what you say, deep down, I don’t believe you. I feel convenient. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, it’s how I feel. Nothing you could say will change that.”

“I would never lie to you, Joan. There has to be something I can do to change your mind.”

All I could do was shrug. I couldn’t look at him. I just sat there staring at my hands. He was nice. I knew he wasn’t another lying rat bastard. I knew I was wrong. But I still felt, convenient.

“You still think you’re just some woman I picked up, don’t you? If I just wanted a random piece of ass, I wouldn’t care if you left or not. The idea of you going back to New York wouldn’t bother me so much.” He put his hand over mine and squeezed them. “How many times do I have to tell you...”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I interrupted. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing you can say. It’s not something you can just make go away. You can’t fix this.”

“Yes, I can.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” He was silent for a minute. “There has to be something I can do.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Just do me a favor and don’t turn into a rat bastard, okay? I’ve had enough lying weasels to last a lifetime already.”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you. I’d really like this to be a rodent free zone.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”