The Launch

Chapter Fifteen

Jess finds the flowers and is instantly enchanted. Did you get these at Metro?

Metro? What, oh... you mean the A&P?

Yeah, they changed it a while back.

Why?

It doesn't matter, I just wanted you to know that their flowers are the best you can get from a non-florist retailer.

I know, I say. I've always felt that way. And you deserve the best that a non-florist retailer has to offer.

Baby, how can I stay mad at you?

You can't.

But when I wake up, still in the guest room at my parent's house, I realize she can and she will. Who knows when this exile will end? Oh, well. It's Saturday, so maybe she'll have time to talk things out with her sister or a girlfriend or something and they'll tell her that we're all the same, you might as well stick with this one, because at least he doesn't cheat or abuse you or run up gambling debts. This is my niche: the "Not as Bad as it Could Be" Zone. I'm the top dog in this particular arena.

I get up, make coffee, eat some toast and a banana and watch the sports news with Ray. It feels strange to just be sitting around doing not much. There's probably something we could be working on for Monday, but it feels really good to be relaxing. I'm wicked tired after all the craziness of the last eight days. Maybe I'll take a nap. Ray is trying to convince me that he's a big Knicks fan, but he probably followed them for about five minutes during a title run back in Patrick Ewing's day. The only current player he seems to know is David Lee.

We're having our second coffees and talking about playing some Crazy Taxi or something when I hear the front door open and JC call down. I head up the stairs and say hey as he's taking off his coat.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he says. He opens the closet to hang up his coat, his back to me. When he turns around he looks at me standing there like he knows what's coming.

"So, are we cool?" I say.

He shrugs. "Sure."

"Good," I say. "Coffee?"

"Sure." He follows me down the hall to the kitchen. "What's with the bedhead?"

"Slept here." Not a story I'm fond of telling, really. It hurts to admit this to myself, let alone other people.

"Why? What were you guys working on?"

"Nothing." I pull a mug out of the cupboard for him and pour the last of the coffee. How to explain this? "Okay, so the thing is, Jessica kind of... asked me to leave. So I came here."

He looks at me while absorbing this. "When did this happen?" He takes a sip of coffee and leans up against the counter.

"Thursday, but it goes back further. Basically this whole week she's been feeling neglected, for obvious reasons. We've had some fights about it and Thursday morning I tried to make it up to her by promising to take her out to dinner and a movie. Pretty lame that it's the best I've got. I've gotta up my game when this is all over, you know?"

"You?" He shrugs one of those all-encompassing French Canadian shrugs that says, No way, you're okay, what's to worry about, where do women get these ideas, anyway, and why are we responsible for their delusions, dinner and a movie out is one of the greatest little pleasures life has to offer and to share that with someone you love is amazing and real, not some fantasy from a romance book that is as elusive as it is exasperating, you're a good husband who tries hard, what the heck, sacré bleu, tabernac, qu'est que c'est?