The Goodbye Process by Mary Jones

Author:Mary Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zibby Books

WE’RE NOT SO FAR FROM THERE

My wife has this friend she used to go with. They were high school sweethearts, and then broke it off just after he went to school in New York City. Charles was the one who ended it. She told me all about it. He’d said he needed to be free for a while, make something of himself. It was that kind of thing. Maybe someday it would be the right time for them, he had told her, but right now it wasn’t the right time. She took it hard, my wife. She’d already given it up to him. She was not herself for a long time after—her mother told me this part.

But through the years they kept up communication and managed to stay friends. Even after we got married. He’s an actor now. Or, what I should say, trying to be. Sometimes when we’re watching TV at night, a commercial will come on and flash his face. Every time it’s that same “I had her first” smile.

When he calls she goes in the back room. Sometimes she gets to laughing so loud I can’t hear the television. I usually just go for a walk.

Last week after they talked she came out of the room and put her eyes on the TV, but she wasn’t watching anything, I could tell. When the commercials came on, her face didn’t change.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She stayed quiet. I watched the commercials. “Charles got married this week,” she said finally.

“Oh, did he?” I said. “I didn’t know he was seeing anyone, even.” I tried to hold back from smiling.

“No, me neither. He’s only known her for a few months. Went to Vegas,” she said. “Figured he’d make it real before he lost his nerve.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said.

“They’re coming to town next weekend,” she said. “He wants to tell his family in person.”

I went and got us two Coronas. I put hers on the table in front of her and then took a cigarette from her pack and lit it. “You seem sad,” I said, and sat back down.

“Sad?” she said. “No—I don’t know what it is. It’s just weird, you know?” She was scratching the back of her neck and looking at the carpet.

“I guess.”

“I told him we’d have to get together, the four of us, to celebrate.” She looked around the apartment. No lights were on. Just the TV. “You’ll have to fix that wallpaper in the kitchen, okay, and get your hair cut.”

“Okay,” I said. “No problem.”

“And I’d like us to go out for a change. I’d like to take them someplace special. As their gift,” she said. She walked over to her purse, took out her wallet, and started to count her cash.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“I told you,” she said. “I want to take them someplace nice, and I want us to pay for the whole thing as a gift. I told them we’d take them out to celebrate.”

“Deb,” I said. “You know I’d love to do that.

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