Chapter 30

"I really didn't come up here to act like Dear Abby or Dr. Ruth," I said in a slightly disgruntled tone, naming two of the popular advice mavens of the day. We were back in the room and I was having renewed thoughts of the reason why I was actually here.

"No," Susan agreed, "but why not? It didn't do you any harm, did it? Just a stop along the way, nothing to take away from why you came. And didn't it make you feel really good to help somebody like that?"

"You mean Celeste?" I asked wryly. "Or Bertie?"

She laughed. "Maybe both," she said. "My God, she's what, like fifty you think?"

"Thereabouts," I agreed.

"And they will have been married twenty-five or thirty years, and she's still that naïve? Jesus."

"Yeah. Well, I suppose you're right, we did them both a favor."

"Probably." She giggled suddenly. "I hope so, anyway. You know, there's a pretty dreadful story about something like this."

"OK, tell it," I invited.

"It's like Celeste and Bertie. Two people who've been married for years, and she'll never go down on him. Not ever. She says she knows he won't feel the same about her if she does it. He tells her no, no, never happen, and he begs and pleads, on and on, and finally she's sick of hearing it. So she says to him, 'Look, I'll do it once, and once only, but you have to promise me that it won't change anything between us. I mean, you'll still love me, you'll still respect me, OK?'"

"Uh-huh," I said encouragingly.

"So he says yes, yes, of course, if she'll only do this for him the one time she'll make him very happy. She says 'You're sure? It won't change us? You'll still love and respect me?' He says 'I promise, baby, I promise.' So she does it, and he has a great time. Well, she's thirsty after all this. So she looks over at him and says 'Darling, would you mind getting me a drink of water?' He gives her this blank look and says, 'Get it yourself, cocksucker.'"

I winced. I'd actually known guys that self-absorbed, or nearly so. "Christ, I hope not," I said.

She gave a light laugh. "I'm sure not," she told me. "He's hung in there all these years and hasn't done anything about it, well, not really, he's got to love her. It'll make things better for them, him and her both, not worse. I don't even know why I thought of that story, I just did."

"Too close to home," I said. "You know, you might want to keep little tid-bits like that to yourself, huh?"

"Do me a favor, don't say that for a while, honey, OK?" she popped up.

"What? 'Keep it to yourself?' I don't—"

"'You know, '" she corrected. "It was Lady Celeste's favorite phrase, didn't you notice? Every other sentence. Probably it's a good thing I wasn't there, the real me. The physical me. I felt like screaming at her, 'No, I don't fucking know, you stupid bitch!' People say that all the damn time."

I was amused. "It's just a space-holder, sweetie," I placated her. "Like 'um' or 'well' or 'like' or half a dozen other meaningless noises people make in conversation. Says 'I've still got the floor, hang in there a minute, it's not your turn yet, I'm taking time out to think what I want to say next, OK, now here I go.' That, and it's a way to establish a kind of commonality. 'I know, you know, we both know' the same things. See?"

"Larry, do you always have an answer to everything?" she demanded.

I shrugged. "It's my analytical mind, love," I said. "I see something, I wonder how come, and I try to figure it out. It keeps life interesting. And lately it's been keeping me alive. You know?" I added ironically.

"OK, OK," she said, laughing. "Forget I said it."

When I went down for dinner Celeste wasn't there. Doug was, though, back to his cheery self. "Hey, Larry, hey," he said as I walked into the bar, as if I were a long-lost friend. He told me about his day "just lazing around doin' nothin'," and asked me about mine. And asked some more when I told him I'd been hiking. Where had I gone, what had I seen, had I met anyone, on and on. I figured somebody had told him sometime that people like talking about themselves more than they do listening to others and he had taken it to heart.