Halfway There (6 page)

“That would be cool—”

“Ellen, I've got about thirty here. Aubrie,
Aubrie
!” Beth got my attention. “Where's your purse?”

“Uh, it's on the radiator by the door. Why do you need it?”

“I've got it,” Ellen said.

“Hey, don't take everything,” I yelled.

“Don't you worry about how much I'm taking. If it hadn't been for—”

I couldn't hear the rest of what she said. She went out to pay the driver. Beth and I sat quietly dreading Ellen's return. It didn't take long.

“Now that that's taken care of, what in the hell is going on around here?”

“Was there any change?” I asked.

“No, Aubrie, there wasn't any change, and if there was change, I wouldn't give it to you.”

“You're pretty selfish, you know that?”

“Then why don't you explain what was so god-damned important that you had to strand me at the
airport?”

It would have been easy to get a really good fight going. I snickered a bit at the idea, but I merely said, “It's a long story.”

“Aubrie's having a mid-life crisis.” Beth held out her glass in a toast.

“Again?”

“That's fine. Make fun of me. I don't care. By the way, you're the sole breadwinner now.”

“They finally did it, huh? I suppose there aren't too many better reasons to get drunk. I'm going to go change. Are one of you sober enough to get me a Captain Morgan and Coke?”

I attempted the task, but after the Coke bottle dropped on the kitchen floor Beth came in to finish the job. She tried to convince me I should go up to bed.

“But, I wanna stay up and talk to you, Beth. You know I love you, don't you?”

“I know, sweetie, but you need to—”

“Is it time to put her to bed?” my beloved Ellen, my little sweetie, asked.

“Give me a hand,” Beth answered.

“Wait. I'm not ready to go. Pookie, tell Beth I'm not ready to go to sleep yet.”

“Pookie, huh? You're definitely ready. Beth, take her arm. I'll get the other side.”

All I recall after that are weird foggy images of faces peering over me. Something about towels and trash cans. I do clearly remember Ellen pulling down my pants while Beth pulled my tee shirt up and over my head. The next thing I knew, my cat was on my chest, licking my face.

“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey. You're the only one who loves me, you know that?” A little tear dribbled down my cheek.

“I can hear you,” Ellen said. I turned toward her voice. She was in bed beside me.

“When did you get here?”

“About an hour or so ago. Take this. You're going to need it.”

Obediently, I swallowed three ibuprofens, a few crackers, and a big glass of water.

“Now, would Mikey have done that for you?”

“No. Is the dog okay?”

“I haven't seen him since I've been home. I'm sure he's fine.”

“What am I going to do, Ellen? I can't keep going on like this.”

“I don't know what to tell you.”

“How did you know you wanted to be a pilot?”

“You told me I was going to be a pilot, remember? You said something like, ‘Stop wasting your life at Home Depot' and the ever popular, ‘I'm not living with a blue-collar worker.' Should I go on?”

“No. I think that pretty well covers what a shit I am.”

“It's easier fixing someone else's life.”

“Am I broken?”

“That's not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“All I can tell you is what my father told me.”

“I want to hear from a man who was crazy enough to marry your mother?”

“Fine. I won't tell you then.”

“No, come on. What did he say?”

“He said the only real thing, the only real purpose in life, the one thing you must do, is find your passion and follow it.”

“How in the hell do you find out what that is?”

“He didn't tell me.”

“Damn him.”

“I can't do everything for you.”

I rolled over onto my side and pulled Ellen's arm across my waist.

“I guess we'll have to see what comes next. After all, I've got another forty years or so to figure it out.”

“That long?”

“It would be nice to get the second half of my life right.”

“The first half was right. Now, you have a chance to do something different. It's like being twenty all over again, except this time you know more about what you're doing.”

“You mean you know how easy it is to fuck things up.”

“Or get things right.”

I yawned and closed my eyes. How hard could it be to find what I was passionate about, I wondered. Ellen started to snore, and I drifted.

Really, how hard could it be?

Excerpts from my email sometime in April:

Dear Susan-Spusan:

Ellen is making me crazy. I've got to get out of the house. It's been about four months since I got laid off, and I need a change of scenery. What are you doing Memorial Day?

I was thinking about coming out. I haven't seen you in a while. How's Kathy? Ellen's okay. She's been on reserve the last couple of weeks, so she's been home. I hate to say this, but I think we do better when she's off flying more.

Anyway, write me back and let me know.

Aubrie,

Good to hear from you! It has been a while. We're having a party on Memorial Day. The usual gang. It would be great to see you. Tell me what flight you're on, and I'll pick you up.

Susan,

I need to talk to Ellen. She's been moping around ever since I told her I needed some time
away
. She says she never gets to see me, and she's been trying to figure out a weekend that we can spend together. It has been busy lately. It seems like every time we turn around there's some family thing going on. First it was Easter, then birthdays, then my grandmother coming in. Arrrgh! I've got to get out of here. Unfortunately, I think Ellen wants to come with me. Oh, yeah, we're not flying. We're driving, I guess. I'm still going to try to come out on my own. You and I haven't hung out, just the two of us, in what, seven years or so?

Ain't love grand? Ever want to be single again?

Aubrie,

Driving?! What are you, nuts? It's like an eight-hour trip. Driving is for kids. Get on a plane! Whatever. If you want to drive, it's up to you.

Susan,

It's all set. Ellen and I are going to leave on Friday afternoon. We should be there late Friday night. I'm assuming the party's on Saturday. Ellen's still pissed off about something, but she won't tell me what it is. I feel like I've met her halfway. We get a weekend together, and I get some time away from the house. If she keeps this up, I'm going to leave her on the road somewhere.

“Slow down!” I yelled. The rain was coming down hard, making huge splats on the windshield. It was
dark, and I wasn't in the mood to go hurtling down the road at seventy-five miles an hour on slick pavement.

“I'm doing the speed limit,” Ellen replied.

“Yes, I can see that, except speed limits are set up for optimal road conditions, not this kind of weather.”

“Go back to reading your book.”

“I don't want to read my book. I want you to slow down.”

“All right, all right. There. How's that?” Ellen slowed down just enough to shut me up.

“I think the weather's getting worse. I can't see five feet in front of the car.”

Splash. Whoosh.

“Damn!” Ellen shouted, working to get the car back on the road. “That puddle was huge!”

I loosened my fingers from the edges of my seat and pulled the seat-belt shoulder strap out of my neck.

“Ellen, look; that sign says there's a town up ahead. Why don't we pull over and spend the night. I don't want to drive another four hours in this mess. We'll be miserable when we get there, if we get there at all.”

“It's not that bad.”

“I want out of this car as much as you do, but I'd
rather get out of it in one piece. Humor me and just pull over.” Ellen wasn't convinced. I could tell by the way she wasn't slowing down or leaving the left lane.

“If you pull over, we could get a nice hotel, maybe room service. We could relax for a little bit.”

She looked over at me. That was a good sign.

“What kind of hotel do you think we're actually going to find in the middle of nowhere? Do you think they just drop Hyatts anywhere?”

“They could have a Holiday Inn.”

“You don't travel much, do you?”

“I remember the last time we were in Indiana.” I snuck a little glance in Ellen's direction. “Remember when we were in college and we flew out to my dad's to get my car back?”

“That was in Illinois.”

“Yeah, the car broke down in Illinois, but we ended up in Indiana.” I could make out a hint of a smile around Ellen's eyes. “You wanted to pull over and fool around, as I recall.”

“It wasn't me. That was your idea. God, that was a long night.”

I shifted my gaze out the window to watch the rain. She was right about it having been a “long night.” Driving from Missouri back to Baltimore, we had
parked on the shoulder just outside of Nowheresville, Illinois to try out the back seat of my little Hyundai. It ended up being big enough only for some fervent and frustrating groping, but not much more. After about an hour of elbows and knees knocking about, we gave up. When Ellen started the car, nothing happened. We spent the night on the side of the road. The entire next day was spent trying to find someone to fix my foreign car. It was pretty clear that fixing a foreign car in the heartland of America was about a likely as selling snow to Eskimos.

“You know, we had a lot of fun that day,” I said.

“After your meltdown we did.”

“I think I handled myself pretty well. I'm not sure Jesus Christ himself would have kept his cool if he had found out there wasn't AAA in the
whole
state, his credit cards were maxed out, and nobody would touch his
foreign
car with a twenty-foot pole.”