Hitting the fan

I've had to take a few hours after saying goodbye to Sid this afternoon to reflect on the events of this past weekend, because it went extremely sour at the end.

I got the call from Grace yesterday, shortly after my last post. She said she had some family stuff to do in the afternoon, but she'd love to have dinner with me. Just she and I...For the first time in years, I was giddy. Seriously giddy.

After grabbing a bite to eat, Nicky, Sid and I went all over town doing absolutely nothing, and I really mean that. Absolutely nothing. We went to the mall, but didn't buy anything. We we went to the park, but only sat in the car talking for an hour. We went back to the hotel room and watched TV. Absolutely nothing. And it was great.

Around six, I got another call from Grace. She said she had some bad news, and was wondering if this whole dinner thing be a double-date with Clara and Sam. I said okay, but I was kinda pissed. Much like in high school, Clara is Grace's shadow, constantly hanging around because she either has no life, or feels like Grace needs some sort of protection. This little move of tagging along, I feel, is maybe a bit of both, given the historical perspective.

Once I showed up at the restaurant (which was within walking distance of the hotel), I could see that Grace was not pleased at the situation, either. Clara was doing her thing, demanding attention, interrupting me and everyone else. We all just kept nodding, pretending to agree with her, trying not to rile her up. Sam just kept agreeing with her, in that pathetic way that just screams I HOPE I GET LAID TONIGHT. Lots of fun.

Right as our food got to the table, Grace's phone started to ring off the hook. The first couple times, she would just check the Caller ID and switch it over to voice mail. After the third time, frustrated, she excused herself from the table to go outside. As she walked away, we heard her very agitated voice answer with, "WHAT NOW?" I turned to Clara and asked, "Ex-husband?" She nodded yes, and that was the end of that conversation. I soon excused myself to go after Grace.

Once I got outside, Grace was on the verge of tears. She was explaining to her ex that she was having dinner with friends, if it was any of his business, which it wasn't. She had a few more bitter exchanges before she hung up. I went up to her to comfort her, and it was strange to, first of all, to offer her a hug, secondly to have her accept without any hestiation. She had a good cry into my shoulder, and I kissed her forehead before we gathered our composure and went back inside.

Sensing we could use some comfort food, I ordered some cake for dessert. Grace and I split a slice, while Clara and Sam did the same. It was so nice for a number of reasons, but mostly because it shut Clara up enough to allow Grace and I to share this moment in peace and quiet.

Then, all hell broke loose.

I looked up at the front of the restaurant just in time to catch Jeff Mallard walking in the door. I hadn't seen that dude in years, and boy he looked pissed. Then, I noticed he was coming right over to our table. My confusion ove the situation lasted all of thirty seconds with Jeff looking straight at Grace and saying, "You fucking hang up on ME?!?"

Clara stands up and gets right in his face. I take Grace by the arm and we rush out the back of the restaurant. Grace immediately took the defensive, saying how she was wanting to tell me about Jeff, how sorry she was for hiding this from me, etc. I was still in shock, feeling like I had walked right into an episode of the Twilight Zone.

I stood there slackjawed. Jeff. My biggest rival in high school. The guy who stole this woman away from me, this I knew and accepted. But marriage? Children? This was beyond...beyond BEYOND! I don't know the words to describe how I feel about this. It's been almost an entire day, and I'm still in total shock.

The rest of this happened so fast that I'm writing this mostly to try to remember what happened. Clara came bursting out the door, followed closely by Jeff. She tried to stop him at the door, but he pushed her aside like a rag doll. I got right in his face, standing in his way of Grace. Everything came at once. All the shit he pulled in high school, the way he turned everyone against me back then, all the crap Grace told me he put her through, all of that piktted up in my stomach as I told him, "I think it'd be best if you leave, now."

This was that fine line between being polite and diplomatic and being a total pussy. He wouldn't budge. In fact, he took a step closer. We stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds before I felt something hit me upside my head. After falling to the ground for a second, I shook it off and got back up, and got right back in his face again. I've kicked his ass before, I could do it again. He punched me again, but I stayed on my feet. This is where it all gets a little hazy. The last thing I remember clearly is Sam pulling me off of Jeff. Grace was gone, and Clara wasn't saying a word. She just just tokk Sam by the arm and they walked off.

I left Jeff on the ground and walked away.

I walked past the hotel and in the direction of Grace's house. It was about six miles away, so it took me about an hour and a half witht he way my head was feeling. I opened the squeaky gate at the bottom of the staircase leading up to her apartment and the porch ligh came on. Grace opened the front door, but stayed behind the screen door. I stayed at the bottom of the stairs.

It was atr this moment, that I went too far, that I scared her, that I hadn't changed at all since that fight in the schoolyard nine and a half years ago. If there's anything I've learned in the failed relationships I've had in the time since then, it's when it's best not to say anything. I was just about to say something when a little boy came up beside Grace. She picked him up. He looked at me and said hi.

I responded with a "Hello, little guy, what's your name?" With his mouth full of his own fingers, he said his name was-I think-Ben. Grace wrapped it all up by saying she had to get Ben back to bed. Before she could close the door, I told her I was sorry. For everything leading up to that moment, and probably everything afterward. I have blown it...again.

I walked for another hour or so before I ended up at the hotel. I walked in to find Sid and Nicky raiding the mini-bar. I told them what happened, as best as I could recall, and we drank until I could forget the bad parts.

In the morning, I was on the floor, Nicky was on the sofa and Sid was asleep with his torso hanging off the side of the bed. I went out for a run, and when I came back, I packed up my stuff and made Sid do the same.

We said our goodbyes to Nicky and hit the road. The sooner, the better, in my opinion. Misunderstood ten years ago, today disgraced. The only other thing I'll say is it was a quiet ride home.