61. Ray the Loser

Settling into my comfy chair in the Study, NPR on in the background, the air outside with a wisp of fall, I was in heaven. Having been back in the heartland for two weeks, I was thrilled to be home, doing nothing that involved travel. It was a Sunday morning, the day that I was most ecstatic to be a couple on, as we just stayed in and did our own thing, no stress, experiencing each others company, silently. And under my blanket, snuggled in with the big fat Sunday paper, life just felt right.

The home phone rang from a far room. 

“Phone!” Thad called from the Kitchen.  

Ignoring him, I instead focused on the op-ed section of the paper: people were more and more frequently talking about the power of Jesus in reference to city politics, which just baffled me.  

“Phone!” Thad called again with a dangerous clang of a pot.

I frowned as I read a Tea Partier’s lecture on the necessity of ‘In God We Trust’ being displayed in City Hall. Norman was turning red as I sat there, and I did not like it one whit.

The phone rang again.  

“Good God!” I hear Thad huff, and then the sounds of him stomping to get the phone and then stampeding toward me.

I tried to look very busy as he burst into the room.

“Did you hear me?” he snapped.

“No,” I lied, but not one of those bad couple lies, more like a good lie; a lie that saves face, saves pain, saves a relationship.

“It’s Becky.” He thrust the phone at me.    

“Thanks,” I smiled up at him, and then into the receiver, “Hey. What’s up?”

He frowned like a cartoon crab and stomped off. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Becky said.

“Wait,” I whispered as I listened for him to regain the Kitchen. Then I whispered, “He’s in a mood.”

“How surprising,” she said. “What is it this time?”

“He had a bad visit with Ma’am,” I whispered. “But he won’t tell me.”

“How’s she doing?

“Not well.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. So, what’s up?” I asked in my normal voice.

She was silent, then, “Ray’s a dick.”

“What?” I tried not to giggle.

“Ray’s a dick.” She repeated.

“Well, yes, but what brought this on?” I knew that Becky had met Ray up at Mickey Mantle’s Steak House in the City two months ago, and she had not taken Pablo, but she had never said much about it. And as Becky was not someone who succumbed to my badgering, and Mother knew no more, I had been hanging on about who she was going to choose: the Loser Ray or Pablo. 

“I went out with him again last night.” She said. “The first time in Bricktown in July was just weird. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in almost a year. I hardly recognized him. He’s gotten really fat and looked awful. But he was real sweet and, I don’t know, we didn’t have a bad time, but we didn’t really have a good time either. I mean, it was like a work thing, where we were both just real stiff, like we were being interviewed.”

“Yeah, that’s too bad.”

“So we started texting after that, kinda here and there, and he started calling every once in a while, but then he always got mad whenever I had to stop and take care of Pablo, like he was jealous. And I know Ray; he was jealous. But I thought he would, at least let it go since he knows I really love Pablo.”

“Have you told Ray that?”

“Yes, and he just laughed at me, and told me I shouldn’t get attached as the State could just take him away any minute, and then where would I be?”

“That’s a bit much.” I said, wanting to add, ‘The Loser has a point,’ but decided to leave it.

“But I knew he was busy with work,” she continued, “And figured he would take to Pablo once he was around him some, he’s just such a cute little guy and all. And anyway, then Ray asked me out again, for last night, and this time he was coming to Norman.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And he wanted to meet at the Mont. And I didn’t mention anything about Pablo, and he didn’t either, so I just decided to bring him anyway, and not even ask Ray if it was okay. I mean, I do have a child now if he likes it or not.”

“Yes,” I kept my mouth shut again.

“So Pablo and I got there early and got a table out on the patio and Ray showed-up, and he was just pissed off immediately that I had Pablo with me. He was, like, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you were gonna bring him,’ and ‘You should have told me, I would have brought my dog.’ And he wasn’t awful…”

“That sounds pretty awful. I mean, comparing Pablo to his dog...”

“Okay, yeah,” she stopped. “But he could have been worse.”

“Yeah, but still…”

“I know. And he wasn’t mean or awful directly to Pablo, but he didn’t really talk to him at all. And Pablo was so well behaved, he just sat there and ate his chicken strips, and was really quiet. But I was hoping for…more from Ray.”

“Don’t we always?” Things had been odd with Thad since I got back from Puerto Rico. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but my interest was piqued. But this was Becky’s time, so I kept my story to myself.

“So, what did you do?”

“Well, after dinner Ray tried to kiss me out by the car, and I just pulled away. He smelled like beer and cheap cigarettes and, I don’t know, I just didn’t want to. I just wanted to go home because Pablo was tired and I had to get him to bed. That’s all I cared about. Not Ray, and certainly not being kissed by him.”

“And what did Ray do?”

“He kinda laughed and tried again and I just told him, ‘I got to go…’ and ‘maybe I’ll talk to you later.’ But I could tell by the look on his face he knew what was going on.” She fell silent.

“What?”

 She took a deep breath. “That it wasn’t working, that we need to go ahead and just get a divorce.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” I said. “But I am so proud of you for standing up for yourself. It’s good because Pablo needs you now.”

“I know." She said with tears in her voice. 

“And I know how hard this is one you, and what a big decision it is, I mean it’s one you have wrestled with for over a year, but at least it sounds like you’ve finally come to a decision.”        

“I know it’s the right thing to do, ” she cried quietly. “Ray just needs to fade away. I know that, but it hurts….”

We talked for the better part of an hour, she sad but hopeful, and finally with clear eyes about the merit, or lack thereof, of the Loser Ray.