Ties That Blind. Zachary Klein

it would help if you got involved.”

      “I know you did. I was off the wall about Lauren’s age and kids, but now I’ve had conversations with her about spiritual searchings. She’s even got me spooked, though I haven’t seen anything suspicious. Nothing at all.”

      “She’s into spiritualism?”

      “Was, not anymore.”

      “When?”

      “The seventies.”

      “So were a lot of people back then.”

      “Maybe people you knew. Mine were into sex, drugs, and rock and roll.”

      She wiggled out from under my arm. “Two sides of the same damn coin.”

      “Lauren still talks the talk. Unseen people pumping her with feelings that aren’t hers. Old New Age gibberish. Next thing you know Lou will be buying free range chickens.”

      Boots smiled. “It might help his cholesterol.”

      I walked back to the chair and plucked a cigarette from my pack. “I don’t find it funny. The woman says she’s doesn’t have much money, goes on shopping sprees that Lou is likely financing, and you can piss into the Atlantic from her house. The situation stinks, and you wonder why I’m distracted?”

      Boots walked over to me, relief flooding her face. “So you’re not getting ready to go AWOL?”

      I fought my doubts. “I wouldn’t be here if this was the Army. I’m no fool, Boots, I know a good thing.” Or did I?

      Boots smiled though worry flickered in her hazel. “It’s taken both of us a lot of years to recognize a good thing. I just don’t want anything to screw it up.”

      “I’m telling you, it’s Lou I’m worried about. I’m watching a guy whose prick is stiffer than it’s been for decades. New clothes, losing weight, smooching in parks, copping feels while they’re walking down the street. He’s wearing a fucking beret.”

      Boots tried to hide her pleasure about my description but her laughter lit the room. At least the worry was gone.

      “Don’t laugh. After Ian’s suicide attempt I thought Lauren was leading Lou into quicksand. Now I think she’s taking him for a ride.”

      “Come on,” Boots said, pulling my arm. “I want to take you for a ride.”

      Though I was relieved to stop talking, part of me didn’t want to follow when she silently turned out the living room lamp.

      

      Either I misunderstood Boots’s ride, or she changed directions by the time we sat naked on her bed. Despite the humid night, a teal Egyptian cotton sheet loosely covered the lower half of our bodies. “I think the anger about Lou and Lauren has to do with your own pulling away,” Boots suggested.

      “I don’t understand.”

      “You weren’t even aware that Lou was dating.”

      “He kept it secret,” I objected.

      Boots placed her fingers on my shoulder. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time, but you didn’t notice because of us. Let’s face it, for the last year we’ve spent virtually all our free time together.” She took her hand from my shoulder and ran it past my forehead, pushing my thinning hair from my eyes.

      “I’m not complaining,” Boots said smiling. “Believe me, I love it.”

      I reached toward the table next to my side of the bed, clicked on the lamp, and rolled a joint while the twenty-first century fluorescent bulb slowly brightened. “What’s your point?” I asked.

      Boots shrugged, “During the time we’ve grown closer, relationships between us and other people have changed. Like yours with Lou.”

      “So I’m feeling guilty? Painting it over with stupid suspicions and anxiety?”

      Boots ignored my defensiveness. “Not that linear, honey. But we’ve been spending all our time with each other and talking about living together.”

      She might not be linear... “We talked about it for a second, five minutes ago. Twice, if you count the television.”

      “What you’re saying just isn’t true. “We have been talking about living together, just indirectly.”

      I fought the only way I knew. I ducked. “There’s a difference between tiptoe and stomp.”

      “We do a lot of tiptoeing.”

      “So now it’s time to trample?”

      Boots hesitated. “No, I don’t want to trample anything. It scares the hell out of me when it doesn’t go good between us. I keep thinking we’ll slide back to where we used to be,” she said.

      Boots didn’t want to stomp and, in my gut, I didn’t want to backslide. It had been a long struggle to get past the years, fears, fights, and reconciliations. I wasn’t an easy do.

      I flicked off the lamp. “Maybe there’s something to what you say about me and Lou. Maybe I do feel lousy about my role in all these changes. I know it’s been rocky lately, but lately isn’t always and it’s certainly not forever. It’s true I screwed up last night, but think about the night before you went away. Did you feel any shell then?” To make certain she knew what I was talking about, I slipped my hand under the sheet.

      “Some of my feelings have to do with the other night,” Boots answered as her hand found mine. “We ventured into something different than I’d ever experienced.” She saw me raise my eyebrows, relaxed, and playfully punched my shoulder. “Don’t leer, goddamn you. I don’t mean the sex. We went someplace special and I think it frightened me.”

      The tension was seeping out of the air and I stroked her hair while lighting another smoke. But out of the air didn’t mean out of me; I felt a withdrawal calling. I eyed the joint but instead forced myself to speak.

      “I liked where we went, but it probably frightened me too.” I admitted. “Right now I just have to get past this situation with Lou and Lauren.”

      “What’s left?” she asked, resting her head on my shoulder.

      “Tomorrow.”

      “And that’s all?”

      “Boy, I hope so. I haven’t seen anyone tailing her and don’t think I will.” But despite my certainty, I couldn’t completely wash the battered car from my mind. Maybe Lou wasn’t the only one catching Lauren’s paranoia.

      Boots shook her head. “If Lauren is making this up she wouldn’t involve you. Why ask for trouble?”

      “In with me helps her with Lou.”

      “You’re incredibly cynical. I can’t imagine her creating all this just to get you involved. I have this uneasy feeling that something peculiar is happening. Doesn’t her car seem too coincidental?”

      I didn’t want to tell her about my own unease; didn’t want to think about anything. “Freud said nothing is coincidence but he was wrong about a lot of things.” I nuzzled her neck slipping my body lower on the bed, ending our conversation.

      No new ground, but we didn’t lose any. Our lovemaking felt full of the private, personal touches that come with comfortable familiarity. Sensuous and slow, I kissed my way out of nervous. Growing calm through the comfort of knowing what pleased. Taking time to turn the disquieting conversation into a small gray cloud well hidden behind the swell of desire, pleasure, and excitement.

      Hidden ‘til morning, anyhow. Some of my wakeup bleak had to do with the clock. Early on a Sunday morning, alarms grated worse than usual. But I knew my annoyance was just icing on a fierce desire to be far from