Sent: Fri, 08/20/1999 10:38 AM
Subject: I sort of hate to ask, but …
Are we done pretending that you’re pregnant?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Not for 40 weeks. Maybe 38 by now …
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Does that mean we can’t talk about other things?
<<Jennifer to Beth>> No, it means we should talk about other things. I’m trying not to dwell on it.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Good plan.
Okay. So. Last night, I got a call from my little sister. She’s getting married.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Doesn’t her husband mind?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> My other little sister. Kiley. You met her boyfriend … fiancé, Brian, at my parents’ house on Memorial Day. Remember? We were making fun of the Sigma Chi tattoo on his ankle …
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Right, Brian. I remember. We like him, right?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> We love him. He’s great. He’s just the kind of guy you hope your daughter will meet someday at an upside-down-margarita party.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Is that a fetal-alcoholic joke?
This wedding is your parents’ fault. They named her Kiley. She was doomed from birth to marry a hunky, fratty premed major.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Pre-law. But Kiley thinks he’ll end up running his dad’s plumbing supply company.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Could be worse.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> It could hardly be better.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Oh. I’m sorry. I just now got that this wasn’t good news. What did Chris say?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> The usual. That Brian’s a tool. That Kiley listens to too much Dave Matthews. Also, he said, “I’ve got practice tonight, so don’t wait up, hey, hand me those Zig-Zags, would you, are you in the wedding? Cool, at least I’ll get to see you in another one of those Scarlett O’Hara dresses. You’re a hot bridesmaid, come here. Did you listen to that tape I left for you? Danny says I’m playing all over his bass line, but Jesus, I’m doing him a favor.”
And then he proposed. In Bizarro World.
In the real world, Chris is never going to propose. And I can’t decide if that makes him a jerk—or if maybe I’m the jerk for wanting it so bad. And I can’t even talk to him about it, about marriage, because he would say that he does want it. Soon. When he’s got some momentum going. When the band is back on track. That he doesn’t want to be a drag on me, he doesn’t want me to have to support him …
Please don’t point out that I already support him—because that’s only mostly true.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Mostly? You pay his rent.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> I pay the rent. I would have to pay rent anyway …I would have to pay the gas bill and the cable bill and everything else if I lived alone. I wouldn’t save a nickel if he moved out.
Besides, I don’t mind paying most of the bills now, and I won’t mind doing it after we’re married.
(My dad has always paid my mom’s bills, and no one calls her a parasite.)
It isn’t the who-pays-the-bills issue that’s a problem. It’s the acting-like-an-adult issue. It’s acceptable in Chris’s world for a guy to live with his girlfriend while he works on a demo. It’s not as cool to chase your guitar fantasy while your wife’s at work.
If you have a wife, you’re an adult. That’s not who Chris wants to be. Maybe that’s not who I want him to be.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Who do you want him to be?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Most days? I think I want the wild-haired music man. The guy who wakes you up at 2 a.m. to read you the poem he just wrote on your stomach. I want the boy with kaleidoscope eyes.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> There would very likely be no more 2 a.m. tummy poems if Chris got a real job.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> That’s true.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> So you’re okay?
<<Beth to Jennifer>> No. I’m about to get fitted for another bridesmaid dress. Strapless. Kiley’s already picked it out. I’m dog years away being from okay. But I don’t think I can complain, can I? I want him. And he wants to wait. And I still want him. So I can’t complain.
<<Jennifer to Beth>> Of course you can complain. That’s unalienable. On the bright side, at least you’re not pregnant.
<<Beth to Jennifer>> Neither are you. Take a pregnancy test.
JUST FOR THE record—his own internal record—Lincoln never would have applied for this job if the classified ad had said, “Wanted: someone to read other people’s e-mail. Swing shift.”