Chapter 4: The Long Talk

Mel found himself back at home, a fat bruise on his upper cheek and a crushed heart. After the fight with Nick he tried going back to work but found he couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept revolving around Nick and Tracy, of all the stuff Nick had insinuated they had done together, of everything he could imagine them doing together, and without a single word from either of them to Mel. He felt a chump, a naïve cuckold. With all the things filling his head, he decided to try thinking it out at home, maybe find Tracy and talk it out with her.

Thing was, it all fit. Nick was a jerk, a selfish SOB of the purest sort, but he didn’t lie. If anything, he had always been a little too honest with Mel, laughing him in the face and pointing out his greatest errors in life. That was Nick, telling him he didn’t get it. Didn’t get what? Obviously didn’t get Tracy, or his imagined life with Tracy. So Mel threw away his request for vacation, filled out a sick leave form and gave it to his manager, who stared long and hard at his bruised face, and took off for home. That’s when he heard the song, the old soft rock piece from the 70s singing about the woman who shattered some man’s illusions of love. Yeah, that made sense. Just what Nick always nagged him about, living in a dream, an illusion, rather than the cynical stark reality Nick resided in.

At home Mel was careful not to open a bottle of anything stronger than a Miller, sipping slow, pacing back and forth and going through a thousand thoughts about Tracy, and Nick, and of course himself. He was sure Nick would be calling Tracy, unsure of just what their relationship was but absolutely sure it wasn’t platonic. Tracy might find it best to not even come over, to toss Mel aside as a screwball nutcase. But if she did show, what should he do? Shrug and pretend nothing really happened? Go to the beach and propose? Rant and rave and go wild until her mother called the police? His mind was a wreck, still unsure and undecided when the door opened and Tracy walked down the hall and into the back room. She looked pissed, maybe a little worried, and with both hands on her hips she looked Mel up and down and said, “You asshole.”

In an instant Mel knew to play it cool. Cop a plea, pay the fine, and get the hell out from under the rock he now found himself. He shrugged, told her to grab some wine and hoped that they could talk. She stared at him for a moment then came over to sit down. No wine, and not next to him, but at least she was there and ready to give her version of just what the hell was going on.

Mel first took a step back. That is he apologized, for making a scene in the bar and agreeing that he needed to call Nick and apologize. Fine. But he felt hurt (Mel wanted to use the word betrayed but figured that had too much meaning. Save that for future use). As Mel remembers putting it, “Tracy, it was just a shock to hear Nick talk of what you and he were doing, and I wasn’t in on any of it. It’s like you and I were getting to know each other, you know, build a relationship, and all of a sudden Nick comes in talking about some other life you’re living. I mean, what’s up with that?”

Nick felt proud of himself for being so cool, so level headed, first apologizing and then explaining how he had been blindsided if not lied to by Tracy and his best friend. Tracy seemed genuinely contrite, a little apologetic, and over an hour they talked it out. Long story made short, Nick had indeed dropped by her place of work that Tuesday after the football game. He took her to lunch, offered to help her with her car, then took her by the auto body shop to make an appointment and work out other logistics. Nick found out that she had Thursday off and arranged to pick her up and go out that night, a movie and a late snack at some place near Nick’s apartment. Yes, she had stayed the night, and yes they had gone out that Saturday night as well, to a few bars, but in another town, not here. Yes, she had seen Nick a few other times, him picking her up, taking care of her car, a few other things, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still want to go out with Mel.

It was a long rambling story, Mel doing his best to stay shut up, to not demand details about her staying at Nick’s place over night, maybe over those many nights. He just took a deep breath and asked, “OK, I get it, you’re going out with Nick too, but why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t either of you bring it up?”

“Because you’re in love with me you big asshole.” Tracy was staring right at him, almost yelling it out, talking loud and slow and spelling it out for a guy who just didn’t seem to get it. “It’s so sweet, really, and I really appreciate it, Mel, I really do, but I just can’t deal with shit like that right now. At least not with you.” Nick felt the slap and knew she had hit a bullseye, straight into the middle of the target, his heart.

Mel wanted to deny it, but he just shrugged and said, “Yeah, I really like you Tracy, I really care, but why not with me? And if not with me, why are you even here? It hurts to have you sitting all the way on the other side of the room from me, and to tell you the truth I don’t know what to do.” Not the weakest or most pathetic plea for love he had ever held out to a woman, but given the circumstances Mel felt he did OK, waiting to hear Tracy’s reply. He figured that the worst that could happen is for her to walk out the door with a laugh, after which Mel would open up that bottle of bourbon he had been saving for a special occasion.

Her answer surprised him. “I’m here because I like you too, you dope. I really do, but I’m not my mother, not ready to settle down and have kids and all that shit, and that’s just where you’re coming from. Nick might be a jerk, a real asshole at times, but he just wants to use me, maybe just fuck me and say goodbye in the morning, but I can do the same thing right back. Thing with you is that you want to control me, hold me, love me, and never let me go. I’ve met guys like you, kind of like you anyway, and I don’t like being controlled or corralled or whatever it is you want to call it. I knew right off how you felt about me, and I also knew that if you found out about me and Nick that you’d go ballistic. He didn’t care about me and you. I mean, he got his, right? But I just couldn’t figure out how you’d react about him. Do you get it? I thought I’d somehow slip it into the conversation tonight but Nick of course had to go and blab it all, the fucker. He can’t keep his mouth shut. Hope you gave his jaw as good a whack as he gave your head. So, I don’t know where we are now either. I’m at a loss. Is it worth going all tourist to the ocean, or should we just call it quits?”

That was a hell of a speech Tracy gave, and with far too much information for Mel to handle in a single sitting. Three things were clear though. First, he had to agree that she was right. No question, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Second, Nick was the author of most everything she said. He could imagine them talking in the night, over breakfast, while downing shots, Nick slowly crafting who he was, who Mel was, and why she should choose a guy like Nick over a big softy like Mel. Third, she was not her mother. That rang true, the age difference between Mel and Tracy being more obvious than ever before.

As this all raced through his mind he moved closer to her, held Tracy’s hand and said, “Yeah, I get it. I’m head over heels for you and I’m really sorry if you feel I want to control you. I don’t mean for it to be like that. I just didn’t know how to react when Nick spelled it out for me at lunch. Like I said, I was blindsided. But as for us, I can’t imagine a week without seeing you at least once. You think Nick is cool and you like being with him. OK. I guess I can deal with that. I can only ask that you at least not hide him from me. More important is how you feel about me. So let’s say you’re not your mother, just a young woman looking to live some life. How about we still go to the ocean, but a little further north where there’s a casino and some night life. Just a couple of nights, check out the waves and then throw back a few in a bar with music we can dance to. How about it?”