part0021

Robin’s eyes opened wide in disbelief. She had never said the ‘D’ word before. “Now, hold on just a goddamn minute, Levana!” Robin shouted.

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I can’t argue with you every night anymore.”

It wasn’t every night—it was every hour. He reached for her hand and she swatted it aside.

She started to walk away but paused when she heard his voice shaking with uncertainty in a way that she had not heard since they lived in her parents’ house.

“Please stay and talk with me,” Robin said. “I’m begging you.”

Hands on her hips, she turned around, scowled, and then walked back to the couch and sat down hard .

He breathed a momentary sigh of relief. He was going to get one shot at this. He covered his face, exhaled into his hands, and then slid his fingers down along his nose and crossed them in front of his face. “Look, I know I’ve hit a rough patch since turning three zero in August.”

She snorted. “That’s a start.”

She’s mad but still not leaving—good. He continued, “Look I haven’t stopped working or worrying since we had Trist.”

“And you think I have?” She snapped.

“No, but you haven’t been the easiest to live with lately either,” he said.

“I’m a teacher, Robin. And that blood bath in Tiananmen Square was awful. I tried to talk with you about it when it happened this summer, but I didn’t feel heard at all. You just sat there.”

“You’ve been holding that in since then?”

“Look who’s talking.”

“The Chinese are goddamned communists,” Robin said. “What did you think was going to happen when a bunch of students tried to protest? Those totalitarian assholes crush that stuff immediately over there.”

“You can be so cold sometimes,” she said. “It was horrible .”

“I agree, okay? But what we saw on television was the reality of that way of life.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, and I’m just speaking for me right now. I’m worn out, Levana. I’ve put everything into trying to make it work with us so we could get away from your parents and create our own life. I didn’t walk out when you almost had that fling with Principal Shithead, and I sure as hell held it together when we lost our second boy.”

She stared at him, but some of the anger seemed to have given way to shock.

“I heard something the other day. Men have mid-life crises in their forties because they realize that they have sacrificed building relationships in the pursuit of climbing the achievement ladder. Well, I had to start early because of our situation. So, when I hit thirty-four months ago, it shook me up, okay?”

She leaned back, listening.

“I don’t share my personal feelings, and you know that. I’m not wired that way. But something is happening inside of me, and I don’t know what to call it...acting out, or something like that. I’ve got anger and resentment about the life I didn’t get to live because I got you pregnant.”

She leaned forward and went to speak.

“Just let me finish.”

She sat back.

“I stuck around, and I don’t regret it. But I have had to watch all of my other friends get to mosey on through life, enjoying college, enjoying being single after college, pursuing their careers, while I’ve been stuck in some hospital when I could have been an athletic trainer traveling the world. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m struggling, and I need your help to get through this. If I don’t, then I feel like I’m going to self-destruct, which I prefer not to do. You know me,” he said, “better than anyone else.” He took a hold of her hands. “I haven’t been reading. I haven’t been working out. I am in one abyss of a funk.” Tears started to well in his eyes. He fought them back in. “Don’t give up on me.”

She rubbed his hand back. Silence filled the room except for the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. She licked her dry lips. “That is more than you’ve said to me about your feelings in ten years.”

He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve got too much of my dad in me. I—I can’t articulate what I’m feeling. I just ignore it. But it has been different this time. I feel...”

“Older?” She said.

“Yeah. ”

“You know, you’re not as bad as you think you are at communicating. But—”

“What?” He cut in.

“Bringing up my former principal. That was out of bounds.”

“I hate that fucker.”

“Robin Norris !”

He gave a wicked grin. “If I ever see him again—”

“Okay, relax.”

“Bringing up the ‘D’ word, now that was out of bounds.”

She thought for a moment. “I know.”

“Did you mean it?”

“No. It just came out.”

He exhaled. “Okay.”

She started to warm. “There may be hope for you yet.”

“Don’t count on it. This may be my one and only Oscar-worthy clip,” he said.

“I heard Billy Crystal is going to host this year,” she said.

“No kidding? I like him.”

“Agree. Good to get some new blood in there and mix things up.”

He shook his head. “Jesus, we’re all over the place tonight. We just went from an all-out argument to the Oscars.”

“That’s us, babe.”

A creak in the floorboards directed their attention to the hallway where an eleven-year old Trist wearing sweatpants and a Batman t-shirt walked into the room.

“I can hear you both fighting again,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

Robin and Levana looked at each other. Their joint expression said: we are horrible parents .

Robin took the unexpected lead. “Hey buddy. We’re sorry. I know this has been going on a lot lately, but your mom and I are going to do better, okay?”

Trist was still half-awake. “Okay,” he said. “You’re not getting divorced or anything are you?”

Levana jumped in. “No, that word doesn’t exist in this family, remember?”

Robin shot her a look—one that Trist missed, thankfully.

Trist nodded. “I’m heading back up.”

“Got your favorite movie t-shirt on again I see.”

Trist looked down at the giant bat symbol and smiled.

“Get some sleep, T. I’ll see you in the morning before I leave for work.”

“I love you, baby,” Levana said. “I’ll pop my head in and check on you when I head up.”

“Okay,” Trist said and headed back down the hallway.

After his steps could no longer be heard on the stairs, Levana turned to Robin. “I don’t know where the D-word came from tonight. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not worried now, but I admit you scared me a little,” he said.

She shrugged.

“I’m going to try and be more open about what’s going on with me from now on. If anything, these past few months have taught me that I can’t keep shoving this stuff deep down, pretending that it doesn’t exist.”

“Well, you’re lucky because by the numbers you’ve got at least fifty years left to get better,” she grinned.

Robin laughed a sigh of relief. “Yes I do, ma’am.”

“If the Berlin Wall can come down, then we can learn to communicate better.”