#10. The Party, Part III

#10. The Party, Part III

Patrick and Susan went back out on the deck. “I’m a little tired of having to shout at you,” Susan said, raising her voice above the din.

Patrick felt the thumping in his chest resurge. “What do you suggest?”

Susan pointed at a tree on the edge of the yard. “Let’s sit down. I’m starting to get tired of people anyway.”

“So you’re going alone?”

“No, you’re not people. You’re person. C’mon,” she said, and put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, sending shockwaves through him.

They crossed through the line of tiki torches and nestled into separate nooks at the base of the trunk, a thick root between them. It was like a natural chastity belt, Patrick thought.

“It’s starting to get chilly,” Susan said.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” Patrick said, and touched her arm. His heart beat even faster.

“I’ll be all right,” Susan replied, seemingly unaffected by the touching of which Patrick was so conscious. He took a deep breath and told himself he was overreacting. Everything was going to be just fine.

“So are you a party-girl?” Patrick asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know about party tips, at least.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I go to them on occasion, when I’m invited. It’s not like college, where there was always something going on.”

“Was there?” Patrick said. “I suppose I’ve heard rumors that people are really social and whatnot in college, but all I seem to remember is studying my brains out to get that 3.9 and spending every free waking second with April.”

“Oh well, you met somebody. That’s great,” Susan said. “Did you have a class together?”

“No, actually. April didn’t go to school. She had intended to follow her dad’s advice and work at the factory out of high school, but when it closed down, she was stuck. That’s when she started waitressing. But I actually had class with her older sister, Jackie, who went her own route because she sort of hates her father.”

“Oh, isn’t that nice?” Susan said.

“Yeah, it’s a real interesting family dynamic. But anyway, I met April through her.”

“You had a crush on Jackie first, didn’t you?” Susan smiled.

Patrick raised his eyebrows, impressed. “I don’t know how you . . . but, yeah. Good looks do run in the family. Even my mother-in-law is a good-looking lady. But I never went out with Jackie or anything. I just fell into a group of upperclassmen – that included my now sister-in-law – to have lunch with. A few times April came to visit and we really clicked. Then April started visiting more often. Before long she was having lunch in the university cafeteria almost five days a week.”

“Aww, that’s so cute,” Susan said, looking at him as one would a Dalmatian in a fireman’s hat.

“Cute, sure,” Patrick muttered, and sipped his drink. “Our relationship is like a puppy. A teddy bear. Just bursting with cuteness.”

“Sorry,” Susan said as she grimaced into a frown and sunk a little.

“No, no, it’s fine. Sorry,” Patrick said, embarrassed. “I guess – I just don’t share the sentiment. It’s too hard, too much work, too much commitment for me to think of our marriage as cute. That’s all. You’re allowed to think whatever you want.”

They stared off ahead in silence for a moment, watching the dancing and laughing by torch light on the deck. Then Susan squinted, and said, “Tony said something about marriage the other day.”

“Whoa,” Patrick replied. “That’s scary.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he just meant someday. Like it’s a goal, you know? I’m pretty sure.” She paused. “Still – marriage is a big word for a relationship that’s not really serious yet. The boy lacks tact somewhat, I think.”

Patrick laughed. “Yeah, sounds like it.”

“He reminds me a little too much of my ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What was he like?”

“About Tim’s size. Played baseball. Loved to drink – a real passion in life. Frat boy. Juvenile, but able to hide it when he wanted to. Manipulative. That’s what I’m afraid of with Tony, the manipulation. I’m always wondering if he’s really as embarrassed as he comes across, really thinks it’s that important to please me, or if he just wants to seem that way. I don’t really know how to explain it, just that there’s more there than he lets on. But I don’t know, maybe he’s just not ready to open up just yet.”

“You sure you weren’t a psych major?”

“Thought about it, but then I realized I don’t like people enough,” Susan said, shrugging a shoulder toward Patrick. “Just learned a few things about relationships, that’s all.”

Patrick nodded. “So what happened to Mr. Ex?”

Susan sucked on her straw, swallowed. “He went to jail.”

“What?”

“Well . . .” Susan began, looking up into the branches, “my theory is that it was when he realized manipulation wasn’t working anymore – you know, when I decided I was going to be a smart girl for the first time ever – it was then that he first thought hitting me might do the trick.”

Patrick leaned back, stunned.

Susan glanced over at him. “But the good part of this story is that its heroine decided immediately on impact that she was not about to be in an abusive relationship, and pressed charges. So that’s how my first serious relationship ended, in the county lock-up.”

Patrick put his hand over his mouth, shook his head. “Wow. That had to have been hard.”

“Oh yeah. I cried for . . . probably three days straight,” she said matter-of-factly. “For him, for me mostly, for all the time I’d wasted and for how stupid I’d been. I cried for my education, which had been severely damaged by the whole mess. Luckily I managed to get my GPA up over 3.0 by graduation.”

“What happened to him?”

“Gone. I told him I didn’t want him here, and it was one of the best things he ever did for me when he respected that and moved back to his home town.”

Patrick nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s in the past now, though. Susan’s doing just fine, now,” Susan said.

“That’s good to hear,” Patrick replied.

He looked at Susan and tried to imagine what it must be like to go through something like that. To get into a serious relationship with somebody who could hurt you so deeply. He couldn’t help but compare himself to this guy, and to Tony. Patrick wasn’t overbearing, he thought. He wasn’t out to hurt anybody. Certainly not April. He had absolutely no intention of hurting her.

Patrick was getting used to the smell of Susan’s perfume. The darkness was dimming her eyes. He was beginning to feel all right again.

“Hey, speaking of parties –” Patrick said, breaking the silence.

“Were we speaking of parties?” Susan replied.

“A few minutes ago. It’s a perfectly good segue. Anyway, I happen to know of a party – of sorts, anyway – that happens every Tuesday night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Two words: cosmic bowling. Three more words: 10th Street Lanes.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right. I go with my friend Wendell – and all the random people he brings along. We’ve got a decent-sized following these days.”

“Wendell? How’d he get a name like that?”

“I’ll let him answer that one himself.”

Susan shrugged. “Okay, sounds good. I need stuff to do mid-week.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d appreciate chances to meet people, with all your college friends moved away and all.”

Susan smiled. “You remembered. What else did I tell you that night I have no recollection of now?”

“That you used to be a lesbian.”

“Shut up,” she said, and punched Patrick’s arm.

The two of them sat beneath that tree and talked for another two hours before they agreed it was time to go home. When he got home, Patrick climbed into bed beside his sleeping wife and felt good about everything. Absolutely everything.