Page 15 of Lost in Love
I smile politely and look down at my children. Finley is now wide awake and has taken off her diaper and is holding it. Sevi is still in full-on freak-out mode because the fucking dog left. And I’m pretty sure Hazel is trying to hide a bird in my hair or something. “No, toddlers are a sign of bad sleep.”
I can’t help wondering if she’s right though. Do Noah and I have a bad relationship? We’ve been through some rough shit, and I did throw out the word separation, but can I honestly say it’s a bad relationship? It’s not abusive or toxic. We’re the ones destroying it. It’s like kids who become violent. They didn’t start out that way. It’s a product of their environment. Our marriage has become a product of our circumstances.
Six
Porn Star Wife
(Never take advice from your drunk neighbor. Or pills.)
Rememberwhen Bonner said he had something to show me?
He lied. He just wanted me to drink with him because apparently drinking together looks less like you’re an alcoholic, which he argues he’s not despite having an actual bar in his garage. Who am I to judge? I hide a bottle of Jameson in the bathroom and pretend I’m constipated at least twice a week. Clearly, I’m not qualified to judge anyone, ever.
So, there I am. Drinking in Bonner Slade’s garage. It’s not all that bad, and he hasn’t tried to kill me yet, so my first theory on him secretly being a hitman hired to kill me by Kelly’s high-school boyfriend is out the window. Unless of course, he’s just befriending me to draw me in, but then again, whatever. I have life insurance. Kelly and the kids will be fine.
Women usually want to know what men talk about when they’re with other men. Or maybe you don’t give a shit at all. I assure you, though, with a guy like Bonner, it’s not what most men talk about. Back home, our nightly barn talks with my buddies usually involved funny things the kids did or recent cattle sales, or even when to harvest.
In California, and Bonner Slade’s garage, the talk is centered around his ridiculous car. And then we, as in me, Steve, and Jason ask how someone of his age can afford something like this if he doesn’t have a job.
“I have a job,” he tells us again. He keeps saying that yet none of us can get it out of him what he actually does. “But my wife bought this car for my birthday.”
Intrigued, Jason peeks his head up from around the hood. Oh, sorry, you’re probably wondering who the fuck Jason and Steve are. Jason was married to Kate, my wife’s friend from up the street. They’re divorced, but he’s still living with her. I find that super weird, but whatever. Who am I to judge them?
And Steve, well, this guy I don’t know much about him other than he runs every morning in what appears to me to be his wife’s shorts but might actually be a speedos. Nice guy but definitely something off about him. Bonner jokes that he’s going through a midlife crisis. I’d have to agree with that one.
There. You’re all caught up.
Jason straightens his posture, pushing back from the car with his beer in hand, and then nodding to the house. “What does your wife do?”
We all look to Bonner because we’re all that curious. He smirks. “Me.”
At least someone’s getting some. It’s always the newlyweds. I remember those days, before kids, before life got in the way.
“No, seriously.” Steve stares at Bonner with a serious expression. I don’t think Steve jokes around much because there’s no amusement to his tone at all. “She like some kind of CEO or something. This car retails at like 250 thousand.”
Leaning into the car, Bonner runs his hand over his jaw, smiling wider. “She’s an actress.”
At this point, I know where this is going. Don’t you?
“Yeah?” Jason coughs. By the grin, he might have an idea as to where this is going.
“Yep.” Check out Bonner’s face now. He’s being evasive.
“Anything we’ve seen?” Steve asks.
“Probably.”
We’re interrupted by the girls returning from their walk. My wife chases the kids inside and disappears into the house without even looking my way. Pretty sure that’s code for I shouldn’t be drinking in my neighbor’s garage and should be working on the house and the remodel I promised her.
Beside me, Jason nudges my arm and hands me another beer. “Your wife seems angry.”
I nod and take the beer. “Story of my life these days.”
He cracks open his own beer. “Mine too.”
And then I’m curious, so I ask, “If you’re divorced, why do you still live with your wife?”
“To make her miserable.”
