THE NEXT MORNING we had breakfast again in the Galaxy Coffee Shoppe, facing the Boardwalk and the ocean. It was pleasant, the atmosphere of the place. We talked about the weather, how fortunate we were to have it so hot and sunny.
But Joan was not going to the beach today. Maybe, she said, she’d sit by the pool, indoors.
“You can join me,” she said, “or play blackjack all day.”
I was as flat as she was. I did not feel like going to the beach either, or the pool, and I did not feel like gambling. Suddenly there was nothing to do.
The waitress brought over our eggs and toast.
“I ordered an English muffin,” Joan told the waitress, in a tone void of her usual charm.
The waitress apologized, scooped up the plate with the toast and said she’d be back with the English muffin. But by the time she came back, the eggs were cold. She then offered to take back the eggs, but then the English muffin would be cold.
The situation seemed hopeless--about the way we were feeling about everything this morning.
“Never mind,” said Joan. “I’ll just eat this the way it is.”
But she didn’t. She only sipped coffee.
“I’m on a diet anyhow,” she said.
I stared out the window to hide from her cheerlessness--and from what had gone on between us last night.
Something told me that Joan had grown up overnight. She had avoided adulthood until now, and now it had rushed up on her.
“I feel that I’ve lost you,” she finally said.
“Never.”
“Just listen. Don’t talk. I feel that I’ve lost you. But I’ll win you back. Let’s just get over this vacation without further damage. Okay? That’s what we have to do. Survive this vacation. You don’t trust me. I know. You never did. But I will win your trust. It will take time. Years. But I’ll win your trust as I once won your love. One thing at a time.”
She had forbidden me to talk, so I said nothing. I stared out the window.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “In that Biblical mind of yours you imagine God cooking up all kinds of mischief to get even with us. Because we’d been unfaithful ourselves. Well we’re not unfaithful now and we’re never going to be and if your God is not a God of forgiveness, then he is not my God. My God is loving and forgiving. We’re good people, Josh. Don’t be waiting for retribution. We’re good people.”
Yes we are, I thought. We’re good people. Except are there any people out there who think they’re bad?
“Let’s forget about it,” she said by way of reminding me and bringing back all the quivers of last night.
“It’s forgotten.”
“Good,” she said.
Silence. We took turns avoiding glances.
“Totally forgotten,” I said.
“So let’s not talk anymore.”
“Talk about what? I’ve forgotten.”
She smiled and the magic was back, almost.
“You’re such a...”
“Such a what?”
“Such a guy.”
“You were flirting, you know.”
I couldn’t help it, just came out.
“Flirting?” she said. “Flirting? Flirting? I was flirting?”
“Flirting. You were flirting.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this, Josh.”
“Neither can I.”
“I never flirt...except with you.”
“Maybe I’m wrong.”
“Dead wrong.”
“Aha.”
She said, “I was wrong on one thing. When I said you’re the best at what you do. That was stupid. But he was disparaging you. The way he tried to degrade you...I couldn’t just sit there and say nothing.”
“Didn’t bother me.”
“Well it bothered me. I’m so proud of what you do, and you are the best speechwriter in the world, and nobody knows it, not even you. I don’t know how you do it, write speeches for these big executives, and never get a word of recognition.”
“It’s okay.”
“You do all the work and they get all the credit. They should say, ‘This speech was written by Joshua Kane.’”
Couldn’t help but laugh.
Once, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company had given an inspired talk to the chamber of commerce on the topic of “We’re Part of World Economy.” He was interrupted twelve times by applause, and in the end they gave him a standing ovation.
I was there, in the back, and so was Joan. I had made the mistake of bringing her along.
She said, “Isn’t he going to mention you?”
“Of course, not.”
“Those were all your words.”
“Shh.”
“Is it always like this?”
“It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
“This is a crime.”
Now I said, “So I’m modest. What’s wrong with modesty?”
“Aren’t you the one who says everything in moderation?”
“Even moderation,” I said.
“That’s my point.”
“What’s your point?”
“Too much modesty,” she said, “is a form of conceit.”
“That’s a hell of a statement.”
“You have nothing to show for anything you’ve ever done, Josh. Do you realize that?”
“I have you.”
“Sweet, Josh. But I know you won a batting title in college. Hit .400, didn’t you?”
“Hit .406, like Ted Williams. How did you know?”
“Because they’re still sending you letters to pick up your trophy.”
“College baseball doesn’t count.”
“Yes it does count,” she said. “Everything counts. Didn’t you win something like the Medal of Honor for those wars in Israel?”
“I’ve got medals. You even complain about them.”
“No I don’t. But anyway, where’s the big one?”
“Somewhere.”
“You’re making a statement, Josh.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yes, this is what you’re saying...”
“I don’t want to hear.”
“You’re saying, ‘I am nobody!’”
“To the contrary, my dear. I need no medals to verify me.”
“You’re like your father. Very strong when it comes to standing up for other people.”
“Isn’t that good?”
“Yes, but you’ve never learned to stand up for yourself. I’ll tell you why. It’s the immigrant in you.”
“I’m as American as you.”
“You don’t think you belong. You’re afraid to be noticed--they’ll deport you or something. You’re afraid to own things because you’ll only have to leave them behind. Yes, Josh, it’s true, and for the same reason you were jealous of...of that Arab.”
No more arguments from me, I thought--at least for now--against this lady’s powers of deductive reasoning. Straight from the school of Aristotle, her favorite Greek.
Moments like these we were mind to mind, heart for heart, soul for soul, and it was so obvious that we were meant for each other that it was strange to think that other people fell in love, too.
She was probably right about everything. This gift of perception, it was a delight. Knowing the truth, even the hidden truth of things, and saying the right things at the right time. She knew the moment and timing. She lit bells inside the brain as when she said everything counts. Profound. To me, profound. On our wedding night, that toast--“May we continue to enrich each other’s lives.”
We were still doing that--but no doubt about it, she had been flirting.