The Encyclopedia of Exes Read online

  “Why don’t you sit down?’ asked Kelly’s father. Russell did, but at a safe distance across the room. There was an animal warning coming off Kelly that said it was not safe to come any closer.

  “Where are the kids?” he asked.

  “What do you care?” responded Kelly.

  “I care,” responded Russell. “There’s a difference between being selfish and cruel, you know? I still love the kids. I still love you. I still love all of you,” he said illogically. Russell broke down and held his head in his hands. He heard his mother-in-law crying as well. He suddenly felt foolish and ugly. The whole thing was so unbearably ugly. Perhaps the great artists did what they did because they didn’t care about other people. He was not like that. He wasn’t an artist. He worked in a brokerage firm, for God’s sake. Within half an hour Russell had agreed to try to make it work with Kelly. He agreed to therapy. He went into his study to call Leslie. He got her on her cell phone. She was driving somewhere.

  “Maybe you guys should make another go of it, too,” he suggested. Leslie was silent on the other end. She had pulled into the parking lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts.

  “I don’t want to make another go of it, Russell. He says he’ll fight me for everything, even the kids, but I don’t care. If I stayed with him I’d be dead by the time I was fifty . . . God, Russell. Are you sure? You told me you wanted to be free. You can be, you know? This is the only life we get.”

  “I have to try,” he said.

  Leslie was silent. “I don’t hate you,” she said. “I thank you. Good luck, Russell.”

  “I love you,” he said.

  Russell went into the bathroom and leaned over the toilet bowl for a long time, but he wasn’t sick. He washed his face and went out into the hall. He could hear conversation coming from the kitchen. They were cooking, all of them, as if it were Thanksgiving. He was overwhelmed with that ugly feeling again. He heard footsteps and then Kelly appeared in the hallway. She looked at him in silence. “I’m going to get the kids,” she said. “Want to come?”

  “All right,” said Russell.

  Kelly nodded and then turned and looked back in the direction of the kitchen. “We’re going to get the kids,” she called.

  There was a pause and then a blend of false and cheery voices called back from the kitchen. “Okay! Sounds good! Great!”

  Six months later, Stefan flew to Washington, D.C., for a class reunion. He had spoken with Russell a few days before. Russell would not attend, as Kelly knew that Leslie would be there.

  Stefan greeted Leslie in the lobby of the hotel. She had a short punky hairdo and had lines on her face that suited her. She held Stefan for a little longer than she did her other long-lost friends. She pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Jesus,” she said. “Isn’t life something?” Before Stefan could respond, she went over and hugged someone else.

  Later in the evening, the ballroom had begun to empty out. Stefan danced several times with Gwen McCaffrey who was a little drunk. She had not been particularly good-looking in high school but she looked a lot better now. She was divorced and when they sat together, she seemed to let the weight of her thigh slump against him. On his way back from the men’s room, he spotted Leslie at the bar. He went and sat down beside her. She turned away from her conversation and gave him all of her lovely attention.

  “So Stefan,” she said. “Have you seen him?”

  “No. Kelly’s not keen on him seeing any of his old friends for a while.”

  “Fair enough, I guess.”

  “Yeah. I talk to him. He seems okay.”

  “Yeah. I talk to him sometimes, too.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “He carries his cell phone in his sock and calls me when he goes running.”

  “That’s an image.”

  “I know. But I love him. I don’t think I’ll ever really love someone the same way, you know? Maybe just because he was the first. Hey, are you in touch with Tara, by the way?”

  “No. I’d like to be. Things didn’t end so well with us.”

  “I see. Maybe I’ll get in touch with her again. I feel like I can do anything. I feel like I’ve been given another life.”

  “So what are you doing these days?”

  “You won’t believe it, but I’m a flight attendant. A stewardess.”

  “That would be something to get on a flight and see you coming down the aisle.”

  “It’s great actually. The rotation is good for my schedule and John has the kids when I’m on the road and they come stay in my apartment when I’m in town. Traveling is good for me. It’s good for my constitution. It’s the way we grew up. How can anything compare with that? And I have a new boyfriend. A guy I met on a flight.”

  “Probably his fantasy come true,” said Stefan. He realized that he was attracted to her. She probably looked terrific in her uniform.

  “That’s what he said. He’s great. He’s a little wild. A little dangerous, but that’s what I need right now, I guess.”

  “What do you mean dangerous?” Stefan was dubious. He imagined some traveling salesman talking a lot of nonsense about the call of the open road.

  “A chancer. You know? Betting pages rolled up in his coat pocket. . . . Shit, hold on.” She began to search around in her bag until she found a ringing cell phone. She looked at the number and shook her head. She handed it to Stefan. “Answer it. It’s Russell.”

  He took the phone and answered. “Russell? It’s Stefan. Late night jog?”

  Russell winced. How could she tell him that? “Very funny. I’m working late,” said Russell. He was sitting in his car on a street not far from his home. “How’s Leslie?”

  “Oh, you know, fine. That would be my guess.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this new boyfriend. He sounds like a creep.”

  “I can’t really talk about it, Russell.”

  “Right. I’ve only got a minute. Can I talk to Leslie? I’ll call you in a few days.”

  Stefan handed Leslie the phone. She winked at him and walked away to find somewhere quiet to talk.

  Stefan went to find Gwen. She was sitting at a booth with someone Stefan didn’t remember. He had to make small talk for a while before he got a moment alone with Gwen. “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  “Here,” she said and rolled her eyes at the ceiling as if to say she was used to much better.

  “I’m over in the Willard. It’s nice. “

  “I’d love to see that part of the city,” she said.

  “Why don’t you come back for a drink? Things are winding down here.”

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”

  They sat together in the back of the cab. Gwen had obviously reapplied her perfume. It was strong and unpleasant. Stefan held onto the strap the entire way to keep from crowding her. A few weeks before, he had been horrified to discover that he was now forty-five pounds heavier than he had been in high school.

  He thought of Russell running around with a cell phone in his sock. It was depressing. He had allowed his life to be ruined.

  “Gwen,” he said. “There’s something I should tell you.”

  She turned and looked at him. She had a large mole on the center of her right cheek. He remembered it being a topic of conversation once when he was a teenager. “I’m married, you know.” She stared at him blankly. “I just wanted to say that out loud. I’m happily married, is what I mean.”

  She turned and looked straight ahead past the prayer beads swinging from the rearview mirror. “I’m just having a drink with you, Stefan. Jesus. You were always a conceited prick.”

  Stefan and Russell did not speak for more than a month. It was if there had been a falling-out. It was Russell who called on a Saturday morning. He was sitting in Leslie’s apartment surrounded with boxes. Leslie was away working and he missed her.

  Stefan was at home on a StairMaster. He was breathless when he took the phone. His enormous body was damp with sweat.

/>   “I’ve left Kelly,” said Russell. “I tried. I gave it a shot, but all I think about is Leslie. I just had to tell Kelly everything and she heard it this time. She understood. I’m living here with Leslie now. I’ve bought us a little house not far from where her kids live and I’ll find a job here and we’re going to be together.”

  Stefan wiped his face on a towel. He had that same feeling of irritation, but this time he was sure he was not jealous. He thought Russell sounded like a fool.

  “I wanted you to know. I owe you for starting me on all this. And I want you to be our best man. We’re going to get married once my divorce comes through.”

  Stefan sighed into the phone. “Yeah,” said Stefan. “Sure. I’d be honored.” He felt himself growing mean and he didn’t try to stop it. “You sure this time? I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  Russell paced the apartment. He lit one of Leslie’s cigarettes. He would get her to stop once they were in the house. “I’m sure, Stefan.”

  “What about her boyfriend?”

  “The guy’s a fucking crook. He’s a cokehead and a loser. She’s been trying to get rid of him for ages. You know what, Stefan? I only realized how wrong my life has been since I met Leslie again. I’m glad for it. Even the rocky road it’s been. If things go too smoothly you never realize who you really are.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you,” said Stefan. “Let me know about dates and stuff.” He put down the phone and tried to continue working out, but couldn’t get the rhythm back so he stomped upstairs. He wanted to vent to someone. He found Lisa in the kitchen making a list. “God help the American man,” he began. “In all his pleated-khaki, Las Vegas strip glory. Let’s get out of here, huh? What do you say? Maybe I could get a job transfer overseas. When I grew up I got to travel, I got to see different cultures. I was a citizen of the world and we’re raising a couple of American kids. There’s more to life, you know.” Lisa looked up.

  “You get to travel,” she said. “What are you complaining about?”

  It was useless. Stefan went upstairs and took a long hot shower in the new walk-in shower. The kids would one day be old enough, he told himself, for him to get away from this woman who didn’t (and made no effort to) understand him.

  Months passed and then Stefan received a letter from Russell. He thought it was going to be a wedding invitation, but it was just a one-page note on good stationery.

  Dear Stefan,

  Sorry to be out of touch. I wanted to let you know that I moved back east again. I’m living in an apartment in the city so I can be closer to the kids. They’re what’s most important now. Next time you’re in the city give me a call and we can have dinner.

  Fondly,

  Russell

  Stefan decided to go to New York almost immediately. He knew things had gone badly, otherwise there wouldn’t have been a letter. He wanted to know exactly how badly. He called Russell and asked him to come for dinner at the Post House, which was connected to Stefan’s hotel.

  Russell didn’t look well. He was thin and he glared at the well-fed, tanned business types that occupied most of the other tables. He complained about his small apartment on East Thirty-eighth Street. He drank steadily and ordered two cocktails before dinner. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it, whatever it was, and Stefan found himself disappointed. He had come for a spectacle, he realized guiltily.

  After dinner Russell began to talk in one long stream as if he had waited only because he knew himself well enough to get eating out of the way first.

  “We moved into the house. A great little house. Leslie was painting again. We had her kids on weekends. My kids even came out once and it all went relatively well. Everyone got along. Then I went to New Jersey to visit my kids one weekend. I spoke to Leslie every day while I was away. When I flew back I was supposed to go straight into the office, but instead, I decided to go home and change my clothes. As soon as I got home I knew there was something wrong. There was this BMW in the driveway. I went inside and found them in bed together. Jesus, I’ve never felt such rage. I wanted to kill. But you know, just him, not her. She got out of the bed and got dressed and just started to cry. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. But I was screaming only at him. This creep. And he didn’t even flinch, as if this had happened to him a thousand times. He went over to his clothes hanging on my chair and he reached into this coat and took out a little pistol. He points it at me and Leslie began to go crazy at that point. She lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. It was like I was in a gangster movie or something. He waved the gun at the door and said, let’s go, buddy. He called me ‘buddy.’ ”

  Stefan felt the blood run from his face. This was more than he bargained for. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more.

  “Can you believe this?” Russell seemed to be really waiting for an answer. He also looked in danger of crying. The waiters must have noticed as well because they hadn’t been around for a while and this was the sort of place where they never left you alone.

  “No,” said Stefan.

  “He marched me right down the stairs and to the front door and then he threw me out. He was standing there naked with this little gun and he told me to go away and cool down. If I didn’t, he said, he’d call the police.”

  “But it’s your house.”

  “That’s what I said. I stood there screaming at him that this was my house and if the police came they’d take him away. He was completely calm. He said that the gun was properly licensed and if I knew anything about the law I’d know they’d take me away and not him and then he slammed the door.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went straight up to the door. I decided I didn’t care if he shot me. Then the police would take him away. But I realized that I’d left my keys inside so I started to bang on the door and nothing happened. Nothing. Leslie didn’t even stick her head out the window. So I left.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then nothing.” He smiled bitterly. “They’re living there together in my house, Stef.”

  “How can that be possible?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got a lawyer on it. I’ll get them out eventually. It’s harder than you’d think. He’s got a law degree apparently.”

  “And Leslie? Have you spoken to her?”

  “A couple of times. She says she’s addicted to him. She says that Proust said people can’t be judged for who they love, the same way they can’t be judged for the diseases they get. Have you ever heard such bullshit? You want to know what else? I just got the divorce from Kelly in the mail a couple of days ago. If I didn’t have my kids, I’d probably blow my head off.”

  “I’m sorry, Russell.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  After dinner, Stefan took Russell home in a taxi even though he was only an elevator ride away from his bed. It seemed possible Russell might not make it home alone. They stopped in front of a nondescript building where an unshaven Hispanic kid was watching a little portable TV behind the doorman’s desk. Stefan offered his hand, but Russell insisted he come in for a drink. It was the last thing in the world Stefan wanted to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint Russell. He sat on an uncomfortable chair with his coat on and drank quickly. Russell showed Stefan framed photographs of his children.

  “You’ll be all right, Russell. I’m sure of it.”

  “You know something . . . ? I know I’ll be all right. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

  Stefan stood and finished his glass. “I should get to bed. I’ve got an early flight.”

  Russell stood up and threw his arms around his friend and then he sat back down on the couch. “Just pull it closed,” he said.

  “All right,” said Stefan. “So long.” He stood there a moment, and then turned and walked out of the apartment. He left with that image of Russell slumped on his sofa beside his pictures of the children, and he couldn’t get away fast enough. There was a terrible moment when it seemed that the elevator w
as going to stall between floors and he would be trapped there. By the time Stefan made it to the street, he was almost running. Thank God I am a reasonable man, he thought. He flagged a cab and heaved himself inside. As they barreled uptown, he corrected himself: Russell is a passionate man, a man who feels things deeply, and I am not. And he thanked God again.

  Z

  Dan Kennedy

  (Zē) n 1: the ending of a series or sequence; “the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end”—Revelation [syn: omega, {Z}] 2: the 26th letter of the Roman alphabet; the British call Z zed and the Scots call it ezed but Americans call it zee; he doesn’t know A from izzard when it comes to women

  Look, courtship is confusing. Yes, I know a lot of people would be able to tell when someone is a lesbian and/or Canadian. Okay, fine. Good for you, but you’re not being very fair if you can’t at least admit that there are a lot of confusing signals out there to deal with. Look, the type of woman who would even play jazz-fusion bass to begin with is not your average woman, so right there you’re dealing with a situation that could affect how you perceive the person. That’s “A.” And “B,” you’re dealing with three different cultures colliding, aren’t you? Canadian, plus lesbian, plus progressive rock/jazz-fusion . . . now you’re starting to see how it could happen, aren’t you? Has a way of humbling you, doesn’t it? You don’t need to tell me that . . . I’m the guy who thought the idea of getting married meant something more than a green card that would let her continue touring.

  It was 1989 and people didn’t have a lot of experience with lesbians or jazz-fusion. These were both still new to Sacramento. Or maybe just new to me. Plus, I was twenty-one and finally able to drink sophisticated cocktails like a gentleman, so there’s that to throw into the mix.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, let me hear some noise if you and your friends are having a good time tonight!”