I finished off the last of my beer. “Maybe.”
We lay there in silence for a while before Finn spoke again. “She emailed me last night.”
“Who?”
“Maren.”
I looked over at him. “Maren emailed you last night? Why?”
“Because she loves you.” That was all he said.
I was still processing it when Bree came out of the house and asked if she could join us. We said yes, but because I didn’t want to get into everything about Maren in front of my sister-in-law, I didn’t ask Finn for any more details about the email. But it stayed at the back of my mind while the three of us sat around chatting. When the mosquitos chased us into the house, we sat in the family room for a while, but eventually I started yawning, and they said they were tired, too. Bree shooed us upstairs and said she’d turn off all the lights.
Finn and I went up, and I waited in the hall while he snuck into the kids’ rooms to check on them. It was the kind of thing that made being a dad seem kind of nice, checking on your sleeping children. That had to feel good, knowing they were safe and sound and peaceful. I thought about how much fun I’d had in the pool with them today and wondered what kind of a father I would have been if I’d ever had the chance. It made me a little sad to think it would never happen.
Finn came out of Lane’s room, leaving the door open a crack. “Out cold,” he whispered. “That kid sleeps hard.”
“Good.” I hesitated, feeling awkward but wanting to say something. Finn had made an effort with me tonight that he hadn’t made in the past. It didn’t fix everything, but it made me feel a little less alone. “Hey, thanks for talking tonight.”
“Anytime. Thanks for listening.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “If you don’t want me to reply to Maren, I won’t.”
Every time I heard her name, it was like a stab to the heart. “You can do what you want. She wrote to you, not me.”
“Would you reply to her if she wrote to you?”
“No. There would be no point. My mind is made up.”
“Do you love her?”
I hesitated, but decided to be honest. “I’ll always love her.”
He exhaled. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
He disappeared down the hall toward the master bedroom and I let myself into my room, closing the door behind me. I got ready for bed and slid beneath the covers, exhausted but unable to sleep.
She’d written to him. I swallowed hard. She must have gone into the house last night and looked him up online. What had she said? Knowing her, I could pretty well guess she’d pleaded with him to talk to me about the surgery.
I thought about what Finn said about self-pity, that I was using my feelings of inadequacy, my certainty that I would disappoint her, as an excuse not to let her see me at my worst. But that was bullshit! How could he think that I wouldn’t be a disappointment to her, when I’d been a disappointment to everyone else in my life who’d loved me?
He was wrong.
I’d done the right thing in setting her free.
Finn took the morning off and accompanied me to the consultation with Dr. Acharya. I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted. Part of me was glad to have him there, and part of me felt like I was being treated as if I wasn’t smart enough to ask the right questions or make my own decisions, but I kept my mouth shut for once.
I liked Dr. Acharya, a dark-skinned man in his fifties with a gentle voice, a serious demeanor, and hands that looked graceful and steady. He outlined the risks of the surgery, explained the procedure, and fielded my questions. I was a little alarmed to learn that I would be awake while someone sawed out a portion of my skull, but he assured me that the brain doesn’t feel pain. “And the drugs they give you will help you forget everything when it’s done,” he said.
I still hadn’t agreed to anything, but I was glad I’d gone to the appointment. I thanked the surgeon for his time and told him I’d be in touch. “The sooner the better,” he told me.
Afterward, Finn and I went for lunch, and I was grateful he didn’t launch into a high-pressure sales pitch. I wanted the chance to think about everything on my own. I was more inclined than I had been yesterday to have the surgery, but still not convinced.
While we ate, I was tempted to ask Finn if he’d replied to Maren. Half of me was dying to know, the other half recognized that the sooner I got her out from under my skin, the better. In the end, I decided it was better not to know.
After lunch, Finn dropped me off at the house while he went in to work. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Bree and the kids by the pool, grateful that none of them asked me about my head.
But a thousand times that day I wanted to pick up my phone and call Maren, tell her about the appointment, ask her what she thought. I wanted her to do the chakras thing—not just the blowjob (although I wouldn’t have turned it down)—but the whole routine, because it was so calming, and I was feeling so mixed up. Was this operation worth the risk of losing my whole identity? Because that’s what it felt like. Everything I valued—my work, my independence, my pride—would be on the table with me, at the mercy of the surgeon’s knife.
I was also worried about her. I wanted to know how she was feeling and if she’d slept at all, if she’d had the nightmare, if she missed me. I wanted to tell her how badly I wished I could turn back time and do everything differently, do everything right, so she and I could have ended up together.
Later that night, when I was lying in bed, I checked my messages for the millionth time, but there was nothing from her.
I hardly slept.
The next morning, I was up early and decided to go for a run. I threw on running clothes and shoes and moved quietly through the house so I wouldn’t wake anyone. Leaving the front door unlocked, I took off down the street at an easy pace, my stiff muscles groaning as they loosened up. I ran for about twenty minutes and turned around, heading back to the house. While I ran, I tried to keep my mind focused on the pros and cons of the craniotomy, but I kept circling back to Maren. I started to get angry.
At myself, for going to Detroit. At her, for making me fall in love all over again. At the universe, for giving me this shit luck. At Chad, for giving me hope and then crushing it. At Finn, for ignoring his wife. At Bree, for cheating on Finn. Jesus, if those two could fuck up a good thing, what hope was there for anyone else? Nothing made any sense.
I missed my old self. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to go back to Portland and get my life back. Work. Hang out. Hike. Take a road trip now and then. Be alone when I felt like it and around friends when I didn’t. Fuck a random girl on a Saturday night if I wanted to, one that wasn’t going to matter to me.
But even that held no appeal. The only girl I wanted was Maren, and I couldn’t have her.
Back at the house, I ran straight for the yard, where I did some pushups and planks, sit-ups and stretches. Then I ditched my shoes, socks, and shirt, and jumped into the pool. I stayed under the surface for a long time, and when I came up, Finn was standing near the edge, dressed for work and holding a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
“Sleep okay?”
“Not really.” I swam to the edge and rested my elbows on it, setting my chin on my forearms.
“Sorry to hear it.”
“I think I might head back home.”
“What? Dallas…why?”
“I’m wiped out, Finn. I can’t even think. I just want to feel normal again.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Finn sat on the end of a deck chair. “The reason you don’t feel right is because there’s something in your brain that doesn’t belong there. Let’s get it out.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I talked with Dr. Acharya’s office last night. They can get you in for surgery in ten days, and you can stay here as long as you need to.”
“No, Finn. I want to go home. I feel like I need to be by myself for a while.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
Finn opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.
We lay there in silence for a while before Finn spoke again. “She emailed me last night.”
“Who?”
“Maren.”
I looked over at him. “Maren emailed you last night? Why?”
“Because she loves you.” That was all he said.
I was still processing it when Bree came out of the house and asked if she could join us. We said yes, but because I didn’t want to get into everything about Maren in front of my sister-in-law, I didn’t ask Finn for any more details about the email. But it stayed at the back of my mind while the three of us sat around chatting. When the mosquitos chased us into the house, we sat in the family room for a while, but eventually I started yawning, and they said they were tired, too. Bree shooed us upstairs and said she’d turn off all the lights.
Finn and I went up, and I waited in the hall while he snuck into the kids’ rooms to check on them. It was the kind of thing that made being a dad seem kind of nice, checking on your sleeping children. That had to feel good, knowing they were safe and sound and peaceful. I thought about how much fun I’d had in the pool with them today and wondered what kind of a father I would have been if I’d ever had the chance. It made me a little sad to think it would never happen.
Finn came out of Lane’s room, leaving the door open a crack. “Out cold,” he whispered. “That kid sleeps hard.”
“Good.” I hesitated, feeling awkward but wanting to say something. Finn had made an effort with me tonight that he hadn’t made in the past. It didn’t fix everything, but it made me feel a little less alone. “Hey, thanks for talking tonight.”
“Anytime. Thanks for listening.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “If you don’t want me to reply to Maren, I won’t.”
Every time I heard her name, it was like a stab to the heart. “You can do what you want. She wrote to you, not me.”
“Would you reply to her if she wrote to you?”
“No. There would be no point. My mind is made up.”
“Do you love her?”
I hesitated, but decided to be honest. “I’ll always love her.”
He exhaled. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
He disappeared down the hall toward the master bedroom and I let myself into my room, closing the door behind me. I got ready for bed and slid beneath the covers, exhausted but unable to sleep.
She’d written to him. I swallowed hard. She must have gone into the house last night and looked him up online. What had she said? Knowing her, I could pretty well guess she’d pleaded with him to talk to me about the surgery.
I thought about what Finn said about self-pity, that I was using my feelings of inadequacy, my certainty that I would disappoint her, as an excuse not to let her see me at my worst. But that was bullshit! How could he think that I wouldn’t be a disappointment to her, when I’d been a disappointment to everyone else in my life who’d loved me?
He was wrong.
I’d done the right thing in setting her free.
Finn took the morning off and accompanied me to the consultation with Dr. Acharya. I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted. Part of me was glad to have him there, and part of me felt like I was being treated as if I wasn’t smart enough to ask the right questions or make my own decisions, but I kept my mouth shut for once.
I liked Dr. Acharya, a dark-skinned man in his fifties with a gentle voice, a serious demeanor, and hands that looked graceful and steady. He outlined the risks of the surgery, explained the procedure, and fielded my questions. I was a little alarmed to learn that I would be awake while someone sawed out a portion of my skull, but he assured me that the brain doesn’t feel pain. “And the drugs they give you will help you forget everything when it’s done,” he said.
I still hadn’t agreed to anything, but I was glad I’d gone to the appointment. I thanked the surgeon for his time and told him I’d be in touch. “The sooner the better,” he told me.
Afterward, Finn and I went for lunch, and I was grateful he didn’t launch into a high-pressure sales pitch. I wanted the chance to think about everything on my own. I was more inclined than I had been yesterday to have the surgery, but still not convinced.
While we ate, I was tempted to ask Finn if he’d replied to Maren. Half of me was dying to know, the other half recognized that the sooner I got her out from under my skin, the better. In the end, I decided it was better not to know.
After lunch, Finn dropped me off at the house while he went in to work. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Bree and the kids by the pool, grateful that none of them asked me about my head.
But a thousand times that day I wanted to pick up my phone and call Maren, tell her about the appointment, ask her what she thought. I wanted her to do the chakras thing—not just the blowjob (although I wouldn’t have turned it down)—but the whole routine, because it was so calming, and I was feeling so mixed up. Was this operation worth the risk of losing my whole identity? Because that’s what it felt like. Everything I valued—my work, my independence, my pride—would be on the table with me, at the mercy of the surgeon’s knife.
I was also worried about her. I wanted to know how she was feeling and if she’d slept at all, if she’d had the nightmare, if she missed me. I wanted to tell her how badly I wished I could turn back time and do everything differently, do everything right, so she and I could have ended up together.
Later that night, when I was lying in bed, I checked my messages for the millionth time, but there was nothing from her.
I hardly slept.
The next morning, I was up early and decided to go for a run. I threw on running clothes and shoes and moved quietly through the house so I wouldn’t wake anyone. Leaving the front door unlocked, I took off down the street at an easy pace, my stiff muscles groaning as they loosened up. I ran for about twenty minutes and turned around, heading back to the house. While I ran, I tried to keep my mind focused on the pros and cons of the craniotomy, but I kept circling back to Maren. I started to get angry.
At myself, for going to Detroit. At her, for making me fall in love all over again. At the universe, for giving me this shit luck. At Chad, for giving me hope and then crushing it. At Finn, for ignoring his wife. At Bree, for cheating on Finn. Jesus, if those two could fuck up a good thing, what hope was there for anyone else? Nothing made any sense.
I missed my old self. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to go back to Portland and get my life back. Work. Hang out. Hike. Take a road trip now and then. Be alone when I felt like it and around friends when I didn’t. Fuck a random girl on a Saturday night if I wanted to, one that wasn’t going to matter to me.
But even that held no appeal. The only girl I wanted was Maren, and I couldn’t have her.
Back at the house, I ran straight for the yard, where I did some pushups and planks, sit-ups and stretches. Then I ditched my shoes, socks, and shirt, and jumped into the pool. I stayed under the surface for a long time, and when I came up, Finn was standing near the edge, dressed for work and holding a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
“Sleep okay?”
“Not really.” I swam to the edge and rested my elbows on it, setting my chin on my forearms.
“Sorry to hear it.”
“I think I might head back home.”
“What? Dallas…why?”
“I’m wiped out, Finn. I can’t even think. I just want to feel normal again.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Finn sat on the end of a deck chair. “The reason you don’t feel right is because there’s something in your brain that doesn’t belong there. Let’s get it out.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I talked with Dr. Acharya’s office last night. They can get you in for surgery in ten days, and you can stay here as long as you need to.”
“No, Finn. I want to go home. I feel like I need to be by myself for a while.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
Finn opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.
