The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing - Melissa Bank [54]
—•—
I walked through the meadow. I sat at the picnic table. I looked hard at everything, so I wouldn't forget. Then I picked an apple from the tree for the ride home.
In the car, Archie said that it was hard letting me go; I was probably the last shot he'd have to start a new life.
I started to disagree, but he got angry. "Jesus," he said. "At least pretend the idea of me with another woman is still hard for you."
"Harrisburg, Pennsylvania?" I said.
He said, "Albany, New York."
—•—
When he pulled up to my apartment, I said, "You don't want me to come over and get my stuff?"
"No," he said. "I don't."
I was a little afraid of him just then.
Then he reached over and took my hand. We sat like that, in front of my building, for what felt like a long time. Then he hugged me, and said, "My little rhesus monkey."
—•—
Archie waited a week to call me. He said I could come over and get my things anytime I wanted to.
I said, "I'll come over tomorrow morning."
"You don't want me to be here," he said.
"I think it would be easier," I said.
"It shouldn't be easy," he said. I knew he was right, and I was about to say so, when he added, "Don't take the easy way out, Janie."
"You can't do that," I said. "It's a violation of the Versailles Treaty."
"Well," he said, "according to the Geneva Convention, I get to say good-bye to you."
—•—
Instead of taking the key from the gargoyle's mouth, I rang the bell.
He opened the door. "Hello, honey," he said.
"Hi." In the foyer, I saw my clothes and books in beige plastic bags that had once delivered our Chinois. My cardboard farm animals grazed on a box of my books.
"Can you stay for a minute?" he said, and I said, "Sure."
I saw white freesia on the dining-room table. He poured a diet root beer for me.
We went to the den, and he sat in his big leather armchair. He said, "I'm afraid Mickey's in shock about us. He said he feels like his parents got divorced."
"I think the important thing is that he doesn't blame himself," I said.
Archie didn't smile. "He'd like you to call him."
"I will," I said.
"He asked me why we broke up, and I couldn't explain it to him."
I was about to say, Honey, but I said, "Archie."
"Yes, Jane," he said, hurting me exactly how I'd hurt him.
"Are you asking me to explain?" I said.
"I guess I am," he said.
As gently as I could, I told him what I'd figured out about us. He nodded, and I went on, saying what I thought was wrong and why. When I told him that we couldn't talk openly to each other, I realized that I was now. It made me wonder if we really did have to break up.
But then he interrupted: "I guess I don't need to hear all this."
"Okay," I said. "Just tell Mickey we couldn't make each other happy."
He said, "Coleridge said that happiness is just a dog sunning itself on a rock. We're not put on this earth to be happy. We're here to experience great things."
I said, "I don't think you want to tell Mickey we couldn't make each other experience great things."
"Is that what this about?" he said. "Sex?"
"Why are you badgering me?" I asked.
He smiled. "I thought if we had a good fight," he said, "we could make up."
I shook my head, and he stood up, so I could.
He helped me carry the bags outside, and hailed a cab for me.
He said, "You going to be okay on the other end?" I said I would.
X X I I
I saw Archie once more. I spotted him near Sheridan Square, waiting for the light to change with a pretty young woman, pink-cheeked from the cold—a good girl in a camel-hair coat. I couldn't guess her age—I'd lost that ability from being with Archie—but I knew she was even younger than I'd been when we were together. I'd always imagined that he'd wind up with someone closer to his age, just as I would. So it threw me. And for a second, I saw them as the world-weary world did: older man seeks younger woman.
I wondered if they were married. Watching them, I decided they weren't. They were courting each other.