There Are No Answers // Falsettos

Real.

Even though, of course, everything going on with Marvin is the main part of my life right now, I do occasionally spend my time elsewhere. I'm sure he knows, but we don't really talk about it. It's all part of the game, I tell myself. We're still young. We don't need to tie ourselves down. Marvin should understand more than anyone.

He's struggling to get the divorced finalized right now. There's not much he can do at this stage, actually, but I still hear him on the phone every so often, arguing with his divorce lawyer. Usually on those days I do my best to go outside.

Things are tense. He's tense. And when he's not arguing on the phone, he's arguing with me. But the weird thing is, I can't stop thinking about what he said to Jason the other week. We're together the way your mom and I were together. And he said that he really liked me. We've known each other eight months. Why have I never thought of it that way? And why is it scary that I finally am?

Maybe he just said it so Jason would understand. You can't really explain a casual sexual relationship to your ten-year-old son. But then I start to wonder if that's all we are anymore. There must be some reason he introduced me to his family so soon, that he wanted me there when they told Jason.

I've never given much thought to my relationship with Marvin before. He's just some guy I see once in a while. He had a wife and a kid. They didn't know about me and I only knew bits and pieces about them and we kept it that way, just him and I. But now it's different. And I don't even know if he wants more than that or if I want more than that and now he's getting a divorce and it all feels so real.

Which is why, one evening while we're having dinner, when he looks over and says, "Do you want to move in together?" I pause for a few seconds and then I say, "Sure."

Marvin looks surprised. "Really?" And I don't know. Am I sure? Or are we just rushing into this? Sure, it's been almost nine months, but he was still married for eight of them. And if he moved out of his place, did that mean that Jason would come over? I still haven't seen him since the last time, and I'm still worries that he thinks— knows— I'm the reason his family is being torn apart.

I glance at Marvin and realize he's still waiting for confirmation. I make an attempt to swallow my mouthful of linguine, but it doesn't go down easy, and I feel sick as soon as I have. "Yes."

"Wow. Okay." Maybe he's skeptical, too, although he did ask the question. "If you're sure. Because... I don't know, it just seems..."

Permanent?

"Soon," Marvin finishes. "I mean, we've hardly even worked out the custody agreement..."

"That's okay," I tell him, and as soon as I say it, it feels like it is okay. "I think we should try this out."

"It's just so new," he sighs.

"Sometimes new is good."

He smiles. "Yeah. Sometimes."

Within a few weeks, we have moved in together. I'm relieved to discover it doesn't feel all that different from before. On the plus side, Marvin and I get more time to talk. He tells me about the psychiatrist he's been seeing for the last few years, Dr. Weisenbachfeld. I don't know why I haven't heard about him before— I guess we never really got to the topic of psychiatry.

He also tells me about how the divorce is going. He and Trina have made some more arrangements, and I think they're a few steps away from being legally separated. And for the first time in a while, this relationship is actually kind of... nice.

We still fight a lot. Maybe even more so now. But it's still nice. To be with him. Maybe I shouldn't be so scared of rushing into this. Maybe that's right.

So, this is our life. He's gone a lot. He's mostly either working or going over things with the lawyer, and I'm at home, doing nothing much with my time other than making sure the house is clean and dinner is in the oven by the time he gets home. And to tell the truth, I forget about his and Trina's custody arrangement until the first time Jason comes over.

Trina is the one to drop him off. Marvin goes to answer the door, and I'm busying myself in the kitchen, mostly because I don't want to intrude, but also because I'm still worried the kid resents me. I tell myself it's irrational— he's ten. If he were mad at anyone for the divorce, I'm hoping it would be his parents.

Marvin comes back into the kitchen, followed by Jason, who sets his school bag down on the floor. "What are you making?" he asks, and it takes a while to register what he's said, because he's speaking ever so quietly.

"Chicken noodle soup," I reply. It's actually from a can, but he doesn't have to know that.

"Well, we don't want to bother Whizzer," Marvin says to his son, glancing my way. "Do you have any homework you need to do?"

"No."

"Jason, don't lie to me."

"Yes."

"All right, then." Marvin pats him on the back. "You go and do that."

And then it's just the two of us alone in the kitchen. "He's a nice kid, isn't he?" I say.

Marvin sighs. "Yeah, he's... Look, I don't want you to think he doesn't like you. He's shy with everyone."

"No, it's okay."

"He'll warm up to you. Don't worry." He smiles half-heartedly and leaves.

He'll warm up to me. I exhale. We have all the time in the world.