Berkeley 1:31pm
‘But what’s wrong with her?’ Jack asked his nephew Donald.
‘Nothing. I just don’t think she’s the right one, Jack. I don’t want any doubts when I walk up that aisle.’
Pause, while Jack frowned and poured himself some red wine.
‘You think people marry without doubts?’
They were sitting at a restaurant table in Berkeley. This was the lunch to mark Donald’s graduation, albeit four months later. Finally! He’d done all kinds of things his aunt and uncle disapproved of. His mother would have torn her hair out if she’d known. Milly’s letters to her sister were always brief, edited versions of the truth. Just the highlights, with some fiction thrown in for good measure. If Louise became worried she might want to reclaim her sons, instead of just sending them birthday and Christmas gifts. (For three years running, she’d sent them each crystals with instructions on their magical properties.) Donald’s father would have…well, Chuck’s reaction was difficult to imagine. In fact, no one remembered him very well anymore. An unremarkable man, even his facial features had failed to register in his sons’ memories. Danny said their dad wore wire glasses and smoked a pipe, but Donald swore he did no such thing. Chuck had phoned once or twice and said he might visit if he was passing through Marin, but he never had. No one seemed to mind much.
In the ten years since he left high school, Donald had tended dozens of bars, put his thumb out on hundreds of freeway on-ramps and tried most drugs including heroin once. Married young, divorced young. Primarily, up till now and this English degree, he’d not given Milly and Jack a thing to brag about to their friends. It was a nice restaurant, but no one really wanted to be here. It was a symbolic gesture, and no one could think of much to say. It was only Donald, Jack and Milly. Danny had sent his excuses that morning – a dentist appointment he’d forgotten. Elisabeth was in Mexico volunteering on a clean water project. Sam was living in Santa Barbara with his plump Bible-thumping girlfriend and using his engineering degree to work at Taco Bell. Billy was a sophomore in high school and a quarterback – today he was off with his team to play a game in Eureka. August was only eleven and lived with his mother and new stepdad, in Stockton of all places. Though he did join them for some family occasions.
Donald sighed, looked out the window. His uncle said: ‘Hmph!’ As if he’d just thought of something. ‘Did you get your ring back?’
‘No. But it was her ring, Jack. I mean, she’d bought it. She’d bought both our rings.’
‘Huh.’
Pause.
‘Did she ask for your ring back?’
‘Yeah, Jack. I gave her back the fancy ring.’
‘You could have said you’d lost it.’
‘What?’
Jack poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. ‘Aren’t you drinking anything?’
‘Water. I’m drinking water.’
‘Am I the only one drinking? Christ.’
It had been a bad year for Jack. His glorious new publishing house, Dulcinea Press, was in its second year – it should have been a fantastic year. The IRS letter had been very upsetting, and their audit terrifying. What about the American Dream? he’d felt like shouting. Why are you making this difficult, when I’ve lived by the rules (sort of) and am already working my butt off? Where’s my reward? He’d had to find a partner for financial reasons. An intelligent pretty woman, very pert breasts, very wealthy east coast family. He thought he’d been flirting with her, but as it turned out, she’d seduced him, then dumped him like a sack of potatoes. Moved on to his new editor. Plus the Republicans were in again, that greasy Reagan and that racist Bush. The world was going to hell.
‘Where the hell’s Milly?’
‘Bathroom?’ said Donald.
‘Stay single. Best way. Your life’s your own. She’s been too long.’
‘I’ll look for her.’
He found Milly deep in conversation with a waitress in the entrance hall. Her face was animated. When Milly saw her nephew, she said: ‘Donald!’ As if it was an amazing coincidence to see him here, of all places.
She introduced him to the waitress, who eyed him sympathetically. ‘No one wants to marry me either,’ she confided.
‘No? Well, nice to meet you.’
He took Milly’s arm. ‘You don’t get out much, do you?’ he whispered.
‘What, honey?’
It was a long limp back to the table. Donald found himself limping a little in sympathy.
‘Oh, Donald, you are going to have to bite the bullet one day, if you want a family.’
‘Excuse me?’ He could see Jack ordering another bottle in the distance.
‘You’ve had so many girlfriends, nice girls, every one.’
‘Yeah. Wish I could make up my mind.’
‘Silly boy!’ Milly stopped walking, to say this. She waited till he was looking right at her, then said sternly: ‘Don’t you realise, it doesn’t matter who you choose, it just matters that you choose.’
‘That’s bullshit. Sorry, Milly.’
She shrugged off the apology. ‘Like jumping off a bridge into a river.’
‘Sounds like suicide.’
‘I mean a river you can swim in, honey. Scary, and probably freezing. But if you don’t get in there, you’ll end up standing and watching it flow away to the sea without you. You’ll be high and dry!’
‘So you think it’s random. I just have to randomly grab a girl.’
‘Not just any girl. A nice girl. You had a good wife and you threw her away, Donald. That little girl you married adored you like a puppy! And now this fiancée. You give up too easily. Marriage is like a job. You’ve got to put in the hours.’
