Regeneration X (23 page)

When Michael came along he seemed so English, which was the main reason I was attracted to him. We had long conversations about ideas, not things. He never guffawed or acted the idiot when he had too much to drink. He wasn’t enraptured and stupefied by a different sport every season. And his hands were beautiful—he actually used a file to finish his nails after he trimmed them. Only after years of experience did I start to recognize it was those little things, which added up to big things (along with the big things), that mattered.

I’ve heard people view the English as stiff and formal. Maybe it was true, but I rather like this. I appreciate men who keep up their appearance, hygiene, and behavior naturally—not just as a facade for the office, purposely putting up a front for some professional occasion. This was another lesson I learned in between Miles and Michael: men in sweatpants, who
forgot
to brush their teeth on a Saturday …
ew
. And then there’s
that
guy, the one who sits in your apartment for six hours watching a football game screaming at the television. This random guy for me was Jason, way back when. He never played; he just took it upon himself to holler like a weirdo at a team many hundreds of miles away. Needless to say, I disconnected my cable.

Don’t hate me, but I can see why the French think Americans are obnoxious. Once I asked Inez why the French seem to dislike Americans. While Inez explained French Canadians were more accepting since the US was a neighbor, she relayed the answer Becks received when she asked the same question to a French Tabac shop owner.

I’ve pieced together the shop owner’s response through Becks, and then through Inez, as follows: “In essence, the French consider Americans disrespectful since the American culture is the only one that sees nothing wrong with asking a French person, ‘Do you speak English?’
in English
. In other words, Americans make so little effort. They cannot even be bothered to learn one phrase in the language of the country they are visiting. Then add the boisterous demeanor of the average tourist to their general disinterest of anything unfamiliar. Americans come to France to see what they’ve heard of—the Eiffel Tower or the Mona Lisa. They do not seem to be interested in the real French culture. Therein lies the basis of the general dislike of one culture for another.”

I have to agree, this does seem rather arrogant.

If only for the class exhibited by the opposite sex around here, one of the best decisions I made was to follow my instincts and get out of Dodge. I am an American, but I strive to be a positive representation of my fellows; I do so best outside of the US. I still struggle with the idea of having left Michael; he and my family are the only remaining strings. I won’t say I’ve left them
behind
; I don’t see it this way anymore, not since we’ve started talking again. Besides, just the word behind implies an arrogance on my part, too, and I do not see myself as more advanced in any way. As a matter of fact, Michael and my family are possibly more mentally stable than I am now. Hopefully I would join their rational ranks soon. My first step was to reveal myself to Parker.

Although we hadn’t reached a point of declaration between us, I liked him, but this confused me even more. If I truly loved Michael, why was I emotionally receptive to someone else? I didn’t think this was possible when Parker first asked me out. I looked at it as a test, a distraction. Did this mean I failed? Parker, being 19, should have made it easier for me to take it or leave it. But again, I was wrong. True, he was less mature relatively to Michael, for example, but much more mature in behavior and manners when compared to every other collegiate young man I’ve ever known. I have to adjust my expectations as a consequence of regeneration; otherwise, I would find myself chasing my professors or my friends’ fathers. Annabelle’s dad wasn’t bad looking, not at all.

Back on point, my question now was, could Parker be mature enough for the 54-year-old mental me, at least until I managed this self-adjustment? I thought maybe that he was. He wasn’t shallow, indecisive, flaky, or any of the other characteristics of youth and inexperience, at least I hadn’t been witness to it.

Chapter Twenty

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts.

—William Shakespeare,
As You Like It (2.7)

・
・
・

“I CHOSE THIS PLACE BECAUSE I WANTED something away from our norm with little chance of interruption, like running into Mel, Alex or the others,” I started. “Let’s get another drink first.”

Parker went up to the bar, ordered a couple of drinks, and returned carrying one in each hand. Handing me a tawny port in a whiskey glass he sat down with his own drink, a deep chocolate-colored porter ale.

I took a sip of my sweet, rich port. “Mmm this is nice. Try it?” I said, holding the glass out for his taste test. I began again by positing, “I get the impression you’d like for us to get closer?”

Without hesitation, but not rashly, he said with a grin, “Yes, I would.” The implications of my question and his response were quite clear. “But just so you know, it wouldn’t be purely physical.”

Sometimes I got the distinct impression Parker was gay; suffice it to say I’d never met another heterosexual man who would have said such a thing.
 

“There is something different about you. You’re brainy. You say odd things, you speak proper-like, and make references to things I’ve never heard of—who is Jessica Rabbit?”

“Oh! Sorry, she’s a cartoon character in a partially animated movie called
Who Framed Roger Rabbit
,” I explain. Looking at it from his perspective, I must have been a real oddity. How was I supposed to know both what was common knowledge to a teenager
and
an English person?
Star Wars
came out long before and still it was heard of around the world by all age groups.

“Must be popular in the US. Never heard of it. Anyway, going back to what we were talking about. My folks always say, ‘Anything worth the while is worth the wait.’ So, I don’t mind taking things slow. I’m in no hurry, but, you know … I wouldn’t be opposed,” he said with a smile. Leaning forward, he asked quietly, “This is a strange topic for
here
. Wouldn’t you rather we went somewhere else?”

“No, you’ll understand in a minute. I think we’ll have a little more, or maybe less, to say once I’ve told you something you ought to know—before we go anywhere or any further that is,” I said starting to feel nervous and guilty for using Parker to figure out myself and my marriage to Michael.

“This is going to be hard to explain, but I will start with … wait … let me just say there is an explanation so hear me out, okay?” I said carefully. I was going to say, “
Before you get upset
,” but then thought this would surely start the conversation in a simmering frame before I even had a chance.

“Right,” Parker said nonchalantly, definitely not expecting what I was about to divulge. Maybe he was expecting me to say something along the lines of, “
I’ve been physically standoffish because I’m a virgin.
” He was in for a surprise. I resumed as gently as possible, but awkwardly I said, “You know I came here just a few months ago. Well, before I came I was … am, as you say, a different person, an older person. But, before I get into this … I was living in Seattle, Washington, in a house I owned with a man. He is my husband. I’m married and I have been for over 17 years.” I paused if only to allow Parker time to hear what I just said, not that it could have made much sense.

He seemed to have heard something meaningful. Where before Parker was leaning back in his chair holding his pint glass he was now sitting upright. Tight-jawed, he stared at the same empty glass now on the table.

“Michael, my husband, and I are separated because I wanted a different life. Not necessarily without him, just a new career and a chance to make some different choices.” Again, I paused so he could start putting the pieces together, why I was “different.” I hadn’t needed to say, “not necessarily without him,” but if I didn’t make it clear to Parker, I wasn’t being fair to either of them, and now was not the time for partial truths. I’d gotten to this point and a straight line was my aim from here on out.

“Last February, I was 54 years old and I underwent a procedure called Renovation. It’s not a popular procedure here that I know of, so you might not have heard of it. It’s typically seen as a cosmetic surgery procedure. Do you understand what I’m telling you so far?” I asked looking at him for some other sign, apart from the obvious. He was now squeezing the empty glass in front of him so tightly his fingers appeared white and the veins, which stretched across his knuckles, were visibly blue.

“Yehss. You’re married.

“… A shite thing to not tell someone from the beginning,” he said in a restrained manner. He probably didn’t care about my “wanting to make different choices.” He wouldn’t even relate to having regrets yet. “Do you have children, too? Is everything I know about you a blasted lie?” While he was upset, thankfully he wasn’t being demonstrative. We were somewhat shielded from a possible audience by way of a wooden half wall behind Parker’s side of the booth. He could have displayed more outrage, but he did not.

“I haven’t handled this very well—I didn’t really know how. I went through what is called the re-aging process to be reclassified as a 17 year old. I thought I could just start over and not have to explain everything to anyone,” I said, feeling a little defensive, but also remorseful for having caused him pain. “I haven’t lied; I just haven’t told you anything about the actual past 35-plus years of my life. I will be completely open with you going forward if we can still be friends. Do you think we could do this?”

“So, wait a second. You start this conversation about us having sex and then you ask if we can be friends. What the hell does this mean? And you said you were separated, not divorced? Was there supposed to be a ‘yet’ somewhere? Or are you and your husband getting back together—is this what you’re telling me? If so, why were we dating in the first place? Didn’t you know that sooner?” He asked this barrage of questions, all laced with a tone of irritation. “Well?” For now there seemed to be only anger. The hurt would come later.
 

It was not a comfortable situation. “It seemed to me you wanted our relationship to move forward and, of course, you noticed I’ve been holding off on furthering both your and my own displays of affection. But, we’ve been dating a while and I didn’t think it was fair to for us to get closer without you knowing. I asked if we could be friends still because, rightly so, you’re mad and hurt and I thought you wouldn’t want to even date now knowing I was married,” I said, making sure to keep my voice low and steady.

“How can I answer this? I still don’t know if you are getting back with your husband.”

“I don’t know, either, so I can’t give you a definite answer. Here’s the whole truth: Michael and I are still married, still have strong feelings for one another, and the question of divorce has yet to come up. We have been married so long, neither one of us know what we are to one another anymore. As for you and me, I said yes to our first date because I was trying to figure that out for myself. Now, it’s not easy for me to let go of this, either. I like you, too.”

“Charley, I’m bloody ragin’ just now. It’s kind a ‘Welcome to Hollywood’ moment. Maybe this shit happens all the time where you’re from and I’m just some unlucky eejit,” he said sitting there, probably wondering if he should just get up and walk out.

“This doesn’t happen all the time anywhere. I’m so sorry, really, I’m sorry. I didn’t think and didn’t know,” I said, looking down at my barely eaten shepherd’s pie.

“Maybe we’ll talk again when I’ve had a chance to calm down,” Parker said as he got up to leave.

I said nothing to hold him back and he left. Reluctantly, I sat there for a few minutes, gathered my thoughts, and paid the tab before I left.

When I got home, I repeated the whole scene, or lack thereof, for Inez.

“I feel bad for him, but there’s always a breakup when people are so young. If it’s not for one reason, it’s for another. It was never going anywhere; you know that. You were never going to marry him, settle down, and have kids. He is nowhere near thinking of marriage, either. I guarantee you,” Inez consoled. “Not to beat a dead horse, but you seem hard hit, too. So again, this was going to happen sometime.”

“I know. I feel awful, though. I mean, hurting anyone is not something I set out to do regularly, but Parker, he’s so young. Do you see? A breakup is bad enough, but to learn you’ve been dating a middle-aged married woman would probably be an outright traumatic experience,” I clarified, noting the difference in this situation from any
normal
breakup.

“Right! I see your point. But you hadn’t even slept together. It was more hanging out with some light affection in between. I’m sure no one was
in love
up to this point,” Inez said, again trying to make me see that perhaps it wasn’t as bad as I thought. “And as far as I know, you never had the
exclusivity
conversation, did you? I say this because I saw two girls and one guy the other day who all looked like they were together. Things are
different
now.”

“No we never had that particular conversation.”

“Well, that’s that then. Do you at least feel better that you don’t have to pretend anymore? I mean it’s kind of as if you were playing a role every waking moment and now you don’t have to.”

 
“Yeah it’s a weight off. Telling everyone else will be a cakewalk after Parker. I want to give him a little time, though, since he’s in all of my classes. I don’t think he should have to face gossip along with everything else. I think my behavior was rotten and disrespectful.”

“Oh, so you’re going to continue acting as yourself? What is ‘a little time’ this time? Because I think, you’re making it harder on yourself. You keep putting off your whole, what’s the word … something stronger than adjustment … melding of your split personality. You stalled telling Parker in the first place.”