Sellevision - Augusten Burroughs [43]
“Well, of course I do, everyone knows who Bridget Hall is.”
She widenend her eyes. “I cannot believe you know who she is, that is like, so cool. God, my father has no clue at all.”
Why would he, John thought, with a daughter like you?
“But I think you’re a lot prettier than she is. You’re kind of Bridget-Hall-slash-Kirsty-Hume.”
“Kirsty Hume! I love Kirsty, I would die to look like her, God, her hair.” Then, “Do you know that new girl, oh what’s her name, she’s like fourteen . . . really tall . . . long red hair . . . oh, what’s her name?” she whined, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to think.
“Heather Sands,” offered John immediately. “But she’s thirteen, not fourteen.”
She slammed both hands down on the couch between them. “Yes! Exactly! Oh my God, you are so totally cool, I wish you were my father.”
Good thing I’m not, John thought.
“I
t’s really hard to be sympathetic toward somebody who is so tan,” Leigh told Howard on his first day back from St. Barts. They were having lunch together at a restaurant forty minutes from Sellevision, a small, unremarkable establishment where there was no chance of being seen together.
“Well, I’m telling you, Leigh, it was hell, just hell. Can you pass the salt?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, placing the salt shaker in front of his plate.
“Yes, I told her.”
“Oh, Howard! You did? You really did?”
“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “And no. I mean, I started to.”
She glared at him, dropping her fork on her plate. “Howard, cut the b.s., okay? Did you tell your wife you want a divorce or not? I want to know where we stand.”
“All right, I started to. I started talking about making changes, evolving as people, and then I realized that it was just too heavy. Way too serious a conversation to have in an airport in San Juan.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, I thought you went to St. Barts. Are you just physically unable to tell the truth?”
“We did go to St. Barts, Leigh, but we changed flights on the way home in San Juan.”
“Okay, whatever, I don’t even care about that. I’m just really confused. You told me, you promised me, that you were going to tell your wife as soon as you got back.”
“I know what I promised, and I’m going to keep that promise. I love you, Leigh.”
“God damn it, Howard,” Leigh said, blinking back tears. “Why are you doing this to me? Telling me you love me, telling me ‘oh, I’m going to leave my wife for you,’ and then nothing ever happens, nothing changes?”
“Sweetheart,” Howard said, reaching over and placing his hand gently against Leigh’s cheek. “It’s just timing, that’s all it is, it’s just a matter of finding the right time.”
“I hate how much I missed you,” she said softly, almost under her breath.
“I missed you too, Leigh, so much, so very, very much.”
Leigh stared at the poached blowfish on her plate. “You know, I bought this book while you were away,” she said, poking her fork at the fish. “It’s about women who love people they shouldn’t.” She decided not to tell him the exact title.
“Leigh, why? Why are you reading trash like that, huh? I’m not the wrong man for you. I’m the right man for you, because I love you.”
“No, wait. Just listen.”
Howard exhaled and set his fork down. “Okay, I’m sorry, tell me about your little book.”
“Well, it just really made me feel upset, because in the book they talk about the warning signs, what to look for in a bad relationship. And it was like they were describing you. Everything they said, it was all you.” Leigh dabbed her pinkie under each eye and sighed.
“Sweetheart, I just want to hold you. You need to be held. Let’s get out of this place and go somewhere where we can be close for a couple of hours.” Howard raised his hand and wrote his signature in the air, signaling the waiter to bring the check.
A
fter making love on top of the garish bedspread at the Ramada Inn. Howard rolled over, said, “I’m just gonna grab a quick shower,” and went into the bathroom. Leigh stared at the heavy pleated drapes over the window that matched the hideous