“Your guy seems content,” Jennifer jerks her head toward Gilbert, who is dancing with Samantha.
“He makes himself at home,” I agree, fighting a smile. I’m glad my buddy found someone to dance with tonight. He’s been broken up since his last relationship ended and I’ve been struggling to help him through it.
The biggest problem is that since I, too, am bad at relationships, I’m not exactly the best person to help him with this.
“What about you?” Jennifer looks at me. “You seeing anyone?”
“Me? Nah,” I shake my head. “Not since you broke my heart.”
“Sorry about that,” she laughs, obviously embarrassed. I asked her out a few months ago and she shot me down. Apparently, she’s not big on dating. Not just me, either. Anybody. I’m not sure how the owner of the hottest bar in town can “not be into dating,” but there you go.
Jennifer is a mystery.
“No, don’t be sorry. You have your priorities in line. That’s a good thing. You should never apologize for standing up for what you believe in.”
“What about you?” She asks, looking at me seriously. I brace myself for the question. Even though I deal with it regularly, it never gets easier. “How are you doing?”
How are you doing?
It’s such a loaded question, and one I try to avoid asking other people. This question, so simple at its core, elicits so many reactions, and so many times, people don’t know how to respond.
Of course, if you want to be polite, the socially acceptable response is always, “I’m fine. How are you?”
If you want to be slightly more honest, you can say something like, “Oh, I’m hanging in there. How about you?”
And then, if you’re talking with someone you really know, someone you truly trust, you can be completely honest. You can say, “I’m not okay. I’m having a really hard time.”
The problem is that right now, I’m in the middle of a busy bar on a Saturday night, and Jennifer isn’t going to have time to deal with my true emotions and feelings. That’s okay. That’s not her job.
I force a smile to my face, hoping she buys it. “I’m fine,” I tell her. “Everything’s okay.”
“You know,” Jennifer says. “You’re a shitty liar, Craig.”
“Excuse me?”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “You’ve been coming here for months,” she says. “You really think I don’t know you? Please. I know every person in this bar. I might hide behind this counter, but don’t you for one second think I don’t pay attention to my own damn customers.”
“What are you talking about? Jennifer, I’m fine.”
Again, she shakes her head.
“You can say it all you want, but I call bullshit, Craig.”
“Hey! Can I get a drink?” Someone at the end of the bar calls and Jennifer points to me. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.” She heads down to take the guy’s money and pour him a beer, and then she’s back.
“I know you’re hurting.”
“How?”
“Craig, look at you. For starters, you’re wearing a worn-out button-down shirt with khakis. You look like someone’s dad.”
“I am someone’s dad,” I say defensively.
“You don’t have to dress like it,” she points out, and even though it’s a little mean, I know she’s right. Since Melinda left, I’ve been a shell of who I was before. I’m not as fun anymore. I’m certainly not as interesting. I’m not as fun.
All of my time, energy, and money goes into Jason. Being a single dad isn’t easy. I mean, that’s nothing strange, really. Nobody said it would be easy. Nobody said it would be this hard, either.
Raising a kid without my wife? That’s not how I pictured my life going. When I said, “I do,” I meant it with all of my heart. I just wish Melinda felt the same.
“I’ve been having a hard time,” I finally admit to Jennifer, and she nods.
“I know. Let’s talk it out, man. Tell me about it.”
“You know my wife left?” I sigh, embarrassed. By this point, I should be past embarrassment, but I’m just not. Nobody wants to admit their spouse left. Nobody wants to admit they weren’t good enough to keep their partner around.
“Melinda, right? Yeah. I know, buddy. I know she left, but it’s been awhile, right?”
“Not long enough.”
I think of all the fighting, of all the yelling. I think of how scared Jason was the first time she threw something at me. I think of how it was the only time, the last time.
I think of how I told her to just get out of the house, and she never looked back.
“The divorce is final,” I say. “But every day, I wonder if I made the right choice for my son.”
“Of course you did.”
“I don’t know. You always hear these horror stories about raising a kid alone, though. I’m worried he’s going to blame me for his mother leaving us. I’m worried he’s going to blame himself.” I take a long sip of my drink, finishing the glass, and Jennifer silently pours me another. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she says. We both turn and watch Gilbert with Samantha. He’s still dancing with her, still looking at her like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Good. He deserves to find someone who makes him happy. He deserves to fall for someone that makes him smile. Yeah, they’ve only just met, but there’s a strange connection there.
Maybe she’ll be the one to sweep him off his silly feet.
Maybe she’ll be the one who makes him smile.
“You know, I don’t tell many people this,” Jennifer says. “But I’ll make an exception. Keep it to yourself, okay?”
“Okay.” I don’t know what she’s going to say, but keeping secrets isn’t going to be a problem. Ever since my military days, I’ve been quite the secret keeper. When you work in intelligence, there are things you can’t say, things you can’t repeat. There are things you learn to keep to yourself, no matter how minor they might be. No matter what Jennifer has to tell me, keeping my mouth shut won’t be an issue.
“My dad left when I was a kid,” she says.
“Really?” I never would have guessed.
“Yeah,” she says. “Most people don’t know. I never really tell anyone. It’s not anyone’s business and I’m kind of a private person, but it’s more than that.” She shakes her head. “I never wanted people to blame my mom, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I never wanted them to judge her for being married to a loser. I was more worried about people thinking my mom was a quitter than anything else. My mom wasn’t a quitter, Craig. She was a fighter.”
“Was?”
“She passed away a few years back. Cancer. She fought until the very end, Craig. She was hardcore, my mom. My dad? Well, I never heard from him. I got birthday cards for the first few years after he left, but then nothing. That was it. He just wasn’t interested in me. He didn’t want to be a dad.”
“But you’re so…”
“Normal? Well-adjusted? Gorgeous? I know.” She heads down the bar to make a couple of drinks. Gilbert and Samantha are no longer dancing. Now they’re cuddled up in a corner, talking quietly. Their heads are so close together I can’t tell where she ends and he begins.
The bridal shower that’s happening in the center of the room has progressively gotten louder. Every so often, someone will climb on a table and dance, but then quickly get back down. They’re all trying to be brave, but not too brave. The redhead at the center of the group is obviously the bride, and I think back to my own wedding day.
Melinda was so pretty, so gorgeous, so sweet.
She was everything I wanted in a wife. She was everything I thought I needed, but I was wrong. What I needed was someone who would be there for me when the road got tough. What I needed was someone who would love me no matter what, no matter what we were going through.
Melinda was not that woman.
She wasn’t who I thought she was, and our son is the one who is paying the price. He’s growing up without a mother, and I sort of hate myself for it.
“Deep thoughts?” Jennifer says, coming back over.
“Something like that.”
“You know what, Craig?”
“What?”
“Fuck her.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Fuck her. So your wife left: so what? You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life. You don’t need her. You don’t need anyone.”
“What makes you say that?”
“When my dad left, my mother was broken. It took years and years of therapy, lots of friends, and lots of drinking for her to get over him. You know what, though? We were better off without him. We were better off just being the two of us. We were better off, and we were happier. My mom was the greatest woman in the world, as far as I’m concerned, and she showed me that no matter what other people do, you don’t have to break.”
She looks across the bar, and I watch as Jennifer’s eyes roam from table to table. She’s nothing if not strong. She built this entire bar from the ground up. No one helped her. She didn’t get financial backing from her parents or her friends or anything. She did all of this herself.
She’s a badass.
“You can’t control what other people do, Craig. Jason will understand that. Oh, he might not get it now, or when he’s ten, or when he’s a teenager, but there will come a day when he realizes the only person you can control is yourself. He won’t blame you for his mother leaving. It wasn’t your fault.”
She places her hand on mine. It’s not sexual or romantic, but she’s offering me a small amount of comfort, and I’ll take it.
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
“All right,” she says, glancing over my shoulder. “I’ve got to go see if the bridal party wants more drinks. Be back in two shakes.”
She leaves, and I’m left alone with my drink. I sit at the bar for a long minute, and I realize she’s right about everything.
I’ve been taking this divorce hard, but there’s no reason I can’t move forward. Melinda made her choice, and I didn’t have any control over it. I don’t need to blame myself for what she did. She wanted to leave, and she left. That was her decision.
Me?
I choose Jason.
I’m going to be there for my son, and I’m going to be the best damn father I can be. I’m going to take care of him. I’m going to be strong for him. I’m going to be brave for him.
Maybe in a few years, I’ll find someone who makes my heart sing. Maybe I’ll find someone who makes me come alive. Maybe I’ll find a woman who is so sweet, and so gentle, that I can’t imagine not being with her.
Until that day comes, though, I’ll focus on Jason, and on being the man my son needs me to be.
“Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” Gilbert slides onto the stool next to me.
“Where’d your date go?” I ask, looking around.
“She had some maid-of-honor duties to attend to,” he nods to the bridal shower and I turn to see the girls all doing shots together. The bride is sitting on one of the tables, legs crossed, and everyone is taking pictures.
“Looks like a fun night,” I comment.
“You know, I know I’ve never been married, but I have to think this is the most fun part of the wedding.”
“The pre-wedding drinking?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t make any sense, really. Shouldn’t the wedding be the fun part? I mean, you go out the night before, and you get all crazy, and you have all of this fun, and then you wake up and think, ‘Well, I guess I’ll act proper today and never have fun again.’”
“It does seem to be like that,” I agree. “Sadly, I think most people have this idea that marriage really does mean ‘settling down’ and being boring. They don’t know that marriage isn’t a death sentence.”
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “It’s really not.”
“The thing about marriage is that your bride should be your best friend. You should marry someone you’re happy with, that you’re comfortable with. The person you marry should make you feel like you’re a better person just for being with them.”
“Deep,” he chuckles.
“Fucker,” I shake my head.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” I don’t have to turn my head to know he’s talking about Samantha.
“Yeah, Gilbert. She’s pretty.”
“I like her, Craig. I shouldn’t. I don’t want to take her home. I don’t want this to be some one-night fling. I want something more with her.”
“Then tell her that, Gil.”
He nods, and once more, I think of the words Jennifer uttered.
Jason is going to be okay.
Sometimes divorce isn’t the answer, but sometimes it is. Nobody likes to hear or even to think that their life might be better after a divorce, but it’s the sad reality.
My son is going to be okay.
I sip my drink and move my head in time with the music, letting the rhythm course through my veins.
Jason is going to be okay, but so am I.
So am I.