Page 70 of Big Sexy Love
Over more delicious slices and with nothing else to do until the storm passes, Seth and I dive right in and talk about our lives. His attitude to things is so similar to Birdie’s. His main aim in life seems to be to have fun and if things go wrong then ‘fuck it! It is whatitis!!’
I shake my head indisbelief.
Seth takes his glasses off and cleans them with the edge of his T-shirt. ‘So whathappened?’
‘Huh?’
‘What happened to make you so het up all the time? Not to be an armchair psychologist, but everyone’s defects can usually be traced back to events of their younger years. For example. I might seem easy and breezy to you, but part of me is just a tiny bit concerned that if I take thingstooseriously and they don’t work out then I’ll never fully recover. And that probably has a lot to do with my dad never making it as a stand-up. It was his whole life. His whole heart. And when it didn’t work out, he never gotoverit.’
‘So… if you don’t try, youcan’tfail?’
‘Exactly!’
‘Yep, that’s total armchairpsychology.’
Seth laughs. ‘So what about you? What’syourmess?’
‘It’s boring,’ I say, pulling a face. ‘It’s not even abigdeal.’
‘Tellme.’
I take a deep breath. The only person I’ve ever talked to about this is Birdie. After Dad moved to Scotland, Alex and I never really discussed it again. Just went along with our lives, pretending it was super normal for our parents to so easily leave us when we were still pretty damnyoung.
I pick up a beer mat and fiddle with the corners of it. ‘My mum had an affair and left our family for a French dude. She lives in France. We barely speak. The whole thing broke my dad and he moved to Scotland. I had no clue it was coming. It knocked me and my brother for six. I was gutted. Really very gutted, you know?’ I take a sip of water. ‘I guess I decided that the best way to avoid feeling like that ever again was to make sure I kept my life as simple as possible, be prepared for any situation I could. If things are under my control, then there won’t be any more nasty surprises. That was the worst I’ve ever felt. And I don’t want to feel like that everagain.’
Seth gives me a sad smile. ‘You know that’s impossible though? You can’t be prepared foreverything.’
I shrug. ‘I know. It’s not ideal. Birdie is forever telling me to just relax. That I’m stronger than I think. I don’t know… Life might not be a thrill a minute, but I’ve alwaysbeen…fine.’
‘But are you happy?’ Seth asks bluntly. ‘Do you ever feel, likejoyful?’
‘Of course!’ I say, laughing as if it’s a daft question. But even as I say it I’m not entirely sureit’strue…
After the serious chatter has ended, Seth tries to lighten the mood by putting Bruce Springsteen on the jukebox and engaging the rest of the punters in a dance-off. The camaraderie in the bar is juxtaposed by the flashing images on the big-screen TV of the damage the storm is doing in some residential neighbourhoods. No-one has been hurt, but it’s all pretty high-octanestuff.
I join Seth on the dance floor and try to bust a few moves in an effort to chase away the navel-gazing that our conversation has brought. But I keep thinking about going back to real life next week. To chomping my Weetabix every morning, getting my tram to work, serving the regular customers, moving my stuff into the box room, watching box sets with Alex and Donna. Week after week.Afterweek.
Somehow, the notion doesn’t sound quite so comforting as it did a fewdaysago.
‘I think I might go to bed!’ I yell to Seth over the boomingmusic.
‘Are you okay?’ heshoutsback.
‘Yeah!’ I nod, rubbing my eyes. ‘Just, it’s been a full-on day! And I’ve so much to do tomorrow. As do you! A good sleep will help you with youraudition!’
Seth laughs. ‘You really do think ofeverything.’
‘Are the rooms just upstairs? I’d ask Phyllis, but I don’t want to interrupt her fun,’ I say, nodding over to where Phyllis is being twirled about on the pool table by one of the sloshedpunters.
‘I can show you,’ Sethyells.
Following Seth round the back of the bar, we go through a door into a vestibule. A set of narrow stairs lead us to another hallway covered in flock wallpaper and framed pictures of the Staten IslandYankees.
‘This is you!’ Seth says, pushing his glasses up his nose. He giving me a sidelongglance.
The mood shifts. We both go quiet, the only sound the bassy beat of an Alabama Shakes song playing downstairs inthebar.
‘Great!’ My voice has gone all high-pitched. ‘Where are you? I mean. Not that I … I mean… ohnevermind.’
