All The Young Punks Pt. 48

"I got a flavor you don't like."

"I don't hate it."

Tina fake pouted after not getting a nibble. It felt like they were nineteen again. They shopped for fresh groceries, cooked a meal together, and spent the evening in the purple and pink sanctuary. Joe sat up late, writing in his Mead composition notebook. He had well over thirty of them by now, at home in Providence, some in 3C, filled with his thoughts, dreams, and fears. He was recalling the Guggenheim, watching T glide from one exhibit to another, observant and astute. Tina always gave Joe her take on art, and decorating, and fashion, her passions. Joe loved museums, but the best part about going to a museum was being with her.

On Monday, Tina's first day at her new, unfinished gallery, Joe joined her in Soho to help her unpack and set up her desk and office furniture. They had lunch at her desk, then he left to run errands feeling good after three normal days, great days.

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-- IT WAS THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM ---

That evening she came home in a rage, ranting about Phil. "After lunch, he moved half his crew to another work site and left me with his least experienced men, young guys he has to constantly ride to get work done."

"How many did he leave you?"

"Three, not the best workers from what I've seen. I don't know if they're going to get the work done."

Joe tried to calm her. "I think you have to give them a day. See what happens tomorrow, and see if Phil checks in and keeps them on the ball."

"Joe, they did nothing all afternoon! One of them painted his buddy's back, and then he threw a paint roller across the room when that stooge ran away, making a mess. Then that guy tripped on the drop cloth and fell. They laughed and laughed. So fucking funny." Tina was winding herself up. "I walked in there and said, 'Grow the fuck up and get to work." She pointed at Joe with fiery eyes. "Those fucking stoners laughed and one of them called me a bitch. So don't tell me I need to give them a day and see what happens. I know what's going to happen tomorrow!"

"Hey," Joe put his hands up. "I said that before I knew the whole story."

"Let me finish!" She was pissed off and not done talking. "I called J&L's office and let them have it. Then Phil calls me and says that's my crew, deal with it, Little Lady. I want to kick that fat old fuck in the balls."

"T, take it easy." Joe's hands were up again. "I know you're pissed off. You had a crap afternoon. You're home now. Don't make your bad day last all night."

"Joe," her hands and hips hooked up again. "Don't fucking tell me what to do. Are you saying I can't talk about my garbage day?"

"Yes," Joe said in a quiet voice. "You can, but don't yell the story at me."

"I'm not yelling at you!"

"You just did it again!"

"Fuck you, Joe!" Tina turned and stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed. A book fell over on a shelf. Joe stood in the kitchen stunned. That went bad so fast.

He walked over to the couch and stared at the TV. It wasn't on. Just six hours ago they were laughing in her office, eating gyros after a great three days, and now it's 'fuck you, Joe.' Tina had never used those words on him, not in anger. It was her eyes and her tone, pure contempt, that hurt most. His instinct said to get the fuck out, but he had to see what happens when she comes out of that room. So he sat there, in silence, thinking, looking at the clock. It was 6:16.

He considered making dinner but decided to wait. When 6:30 rolled around, he thought about going in to make a peace offering. That went bad once, so he waited. 'I don't want to be rejected. If she's still angry and unreasonable, I want to be the one putting my foot down.'

By 6:40 he was wondering if he should just leave her alone for the night. 'I'm fucking hungry.'

At 6:45 he stood up. 'I need a drink, something strong.' Joe walked into the kitchen. Before he reached the bourbon, Tina reappeared. She had been crying.

"I'm sorry," she said softly from across the kitchen. I'm very upset and I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Do you want a drink? I'm having a bourbon."

She nodded. Joe poured drinks and met her in the living room. She sat on the couch. Joe handed her a double bourbon and sat at the opposite end, leaving a buffer cushion between them. Tina noticed. They sipped whiskey in silence.

Joe had an offer, but he was too unnerved to ask. Finally, he let it out slowly. "I have a month, T. If you want, I'll come over to do any work you want, even if it's keeping the three stooges in line. I want to help."

Tina stared at Joe. Her sorry face turned neutral, then annoyed, and then..."A month? You haven't fixed that yet?"

"Fixed what?"

"You flying, the tour!"

"I told you I can't. It's a done deal."

"You told me you had an idea and you were working on it."

"That was before our big blow-up. When I told you that night I was flying on the first, that was the end. My thing didn't..."

"You liar!" She stood and walked to the kitchen.

Joe followed. "I've done everything I could to be here." He kept his tone calm. "Are you ever gonna take responsibility for your gallery problems? I didn't cause any of that."

Tina turned, "You're gonna blame me? You fucking loser! She tossed the last of her bourbon in his face and slammed the glass down on the table. She stood erect and glared at him. "I can't even look at you." Her eyes were wild. She balled her fists and struck Joe in the chest with an overhand girly punch, a right, and then the left.

When her right hand went over her shoulder and came down again, Joe grabbed her wrist, and then her left. She struggled to pull free. Joe held tight.

"Let go of me!"

Joe extended his arms and stepped back to make space, then let go.

"You're pathetic." She said coldly.

Joe said nothing. The rage on her face made her unrecognizable. He didn't know this woman. Without a word, he grabbed his things as Tina screamed at him.

"Oh, you're gonna run! What a shock! You pussy!"

As he walked out she kept yelling. When the door closed behind him she wailed. He stopped for a moment to hear her scream, not anger, crying. Joe got a room in The Hotel Chelsea. He would not call for three days, and only then after Tina had pestered Marsha and the Guerilla receptionist snapped.

"Damn it, Joe. Go home. She's sorry. She wants to talk."

"She's fucking crazy. She'll cry and say she's sorry and in three days abuse me again."

"It won't get better if you don't go back."

"It won't get worse if I stay away."

This was Joe's life during the summer of 1984. Tina was overwhelmed with her project, short-tempered, emotional, swinging hot and cold, angry and sorry, and the extremes were unsettling. This was crazy behavior, the stuff that gets diagnosed if you see a doctor. Joe knows this shit.

In Marty's office, he confessed his fears to his older partner. "I can't take the abuse. It hurts to see the hate in her eyes when she says things she would never say before all this crap happened."

"You gave her time to cool down and think. It's time to go back."

"She could kiss me at the front door and stab me with a steak knife in the kitchen three minutes later, Marty. She's unhinged. I can't see her look at me like that. It kills me."

"If you love her, you'll give her a second chance."

"Second chance? This is the third time I've been out on my ass!"

"Okay, fourth chance."

"She punched me. Marty. It didn't hurt, she's a weakling, but I can't face that rage."

Joe walked home late in the day. He didn't want to play head games with Tina, not in her state of mind, but he felt he had to do or say something to get the upper hand, like a reverse emotional suplex. He was feeling whipped and needed to stand taller. He decided to let her come home to an empty house again, then he would show up with food.

'If she so much as raises her voice,' he thought. 'I'm fucking out of there.'

He arrived with one of her favorite fast foods. one they rarely ate, Kentucky Fried Chicken. T loved KFC but had a fear of getting fat. He went in with another peace offering, but he was ready for war.

"Don't." He put his hand up as she approached him with regret in her eyes. "I don't want the sorry's and the tears, or the hugs."

Tina stepped back, shocked by his curt tone.

"I'm here to talk but I won't take any abuse, verbal or physical. I'm done with that immature crap. I come in peace. I came to talk and to feed you because you eat like shit when I'm not home. This is what I do T. I take care of you."

"I know, I'm so sorry, and I..."

"No, T, stop."

"I just want to say..."

"Sorry doesn't mean anything if you have to keep saying it again and again."

That line worked. She shut up and sat at the table. Joe pulled plates and forks from the cupboard and opened the bucket of chicken. Tina served the potatoes, gravy, and slaw. Joe poured them Coke from a liter bottle. He took a bite of original recipe without a word. Tina looked in the bucket and took extra crispy. They ate in silence for the first piece.

"You can't do this to me, T. I won't allow you to abuse me. I don't give a fuck if I'm wrong and you're right. You have no right to abuse me, to say hateful things. I won't stand for it."

"I'm sor..."

"Don't say you're sorry. Show me. At this point, words are meaningless. Show me you're sorry with simple respect."

They talked. She said she was sorry six more times. He stopped telling her not to. It was pointless. She didn't listen. It was all about her feelings and her regret and she hated sleeping alone. The more she talked the more Joe didn't want to listen. It was circular and emotional and he didn't believe her. That hurt him as much as any invective. Joe realized in this conversation that he no longer trusted Tina.

When Joe showed no interest in sex and slept on his side of the bed, not in the middle as they always did. She got the message. She went to work the next day. Joe did not offer his help. Because she made it clear, she doesn't need his help. He did his lazy day routine, calling Simon for a lunch date.

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---- DAY 27 ---

Simon had no clue Joe was in the middle of a relationship hurricane. They hadn't spoken much this summer. He arrived all cheerio and happy to see you, mate.

"I'm really excited about this tour, Joe."

"Yup. You told me. Lots of blokes all over the UK are waiting for your triumphant return."

Simon leaned in, "Some sweet birds too." He sipped his tea. "Too bad you're married."

"Yup, too bad."

"We have that EIC party the night before the first show. The evening before that I'm taking you to my two favorite pubs. Where I grew into this." He gestured to himself. "You'll meet some hard-core punks, and some soft ones too." Simon smiled. "Too bad you're married."

Simon went on, all positive energy, excited to be bringing his band home. Joe decided he didn't want to drag his best mate down with his tale of madness and sorrow.

"How's T doing?"

"She's stressed out of her mind and she's been hard on me. I'm walking on eggshells."

"That'll all be over soon. When's her opening?"

"Friday the 31st."

"Did you tell me this before?"

"I don't remember."

"That's the night before we fly. How's that working with her?"

"I just told you she's been hard on me."

"Sorry, Mate." He smiled. "Well, when you get back from Europe that will be over too, no more crying over long tours."

"I hope so."

They had a nice lunch, not a bummer discussing Joe's woes.

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---- DAY 25 ----

For two days Tina came home on edge and vented about her troubles in a heightened and emotional tone because the stooges were making her crazy. At least she wasn't yelling. Joe listened but didn't say much. He knew the wrong words could derail their fragile peace.

On the third day, she started off okay, but she wound herself up a little telling anecdote after anecdote of the stupidity of the stooges and Phil's indifference.

"Let me ask you this," Joe said calmly, trying to keep the tone low. "Do you see any progress over the last week? Are any walls now finished?"

"Yes, but it's taking forever because they're fuck offs."

"Will it be done before the 31st?"

"Joe, I need it done way before the 31st." Her tone went up a notch. "Do you have any idea how many pieces of art I have to hang? It'll take two weeks to decorate, and we're down to twenty-four days."

Tina carried on, her frustration rising, listing all the work she had ahead of her. Joe suddenly realized he was sick of hearing about her gallery, the stooges, and all of it. The more her voice raised the less he cared. Her tone was unpleasant and he didn't want to hear anymore.

"I don't know if they'll have it done," she said. "I called J&L twice. They're not returning my calls."

"Have you talked to Gail about this?"

"I cannot bother her. She's popped in a few times to check progress. I don't trouble her. She's done so much for me. I don't want to ask for more."

The following day, Joe called Gail Mortensen. He was truly exhausted by the project and wanted to fix the problem. He explained everything Tina was going through and how she was overwhelmed and stressed out. He did not mention their relationship troubles.

"Why didn't she call me?" Gail asked.

"Because you've done so much and she doesn't want to be a bother."

"That's ridiculous. Amethyst is my investment in Tina. I will protect my people."

"She also wants to do it herself, to be independent."

"How's that working out? Is she getting the job done?"

"It's been tough, slow going, and she's losing her mind."

"Joe, I give J&L at least three contracts a year. I know the owner personally. I'll take care of this."

"Okay, it's not just the stooges," he added. "Their boss is an asshole who disrespects her."

"I will take care of this."

They talked for several minutes. Joe hung up thinking he had done a good deed.

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---- GOOD DEED GONE BAD ----

"You told Gail Mortensen I'm losing my mind?" Tina yelled, seconds after the door closed behind her. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how humiliated I am? She thinks I can't get the job done."

Joe exhaled very lightly, like the final breath of a dying man. He stared at her, a pot of water in hand, and said nothing.

"I can't believe you would go behind my back after I told you I can't call her."

"But I can."

"It's none of your fucking business! You had no right. She said you had a nice chat. What else did you say about me, that I've been a crazy bitch?"

"No. I didn't mention our problems, only your problem."

"My problem? Just one? I have more than one problem."

"I tried to help, T." Joe placed the pot on the stove. "Gail said I can help when it's time to hang art. She said it'll be a lot for you and I should..."

"A lot for me? Fuck! She thinks I'm helpless now."

"Tina! I'll be there to help."

"Until the first when you fly off for London. That's my other fucking problem. Do you think I need a constant reminder of what I'm facing at the end of the month... 24 hours a day? It's bad enough here. I can't deal with you at work too. I need some space."

The words, 'It's bad enough here.' rang louder than all the other words. She kept talking, her tone getting harsher, but Joe didn't hear what she was saying. His brain was stuck on those four words. She kept venting, saying he betrayed her trust by calling Gail.

"Wait, stop!" Joe stepped closer. "Did you just say it's bad enough here? Me being here is bad? If that's how it is, I have to leave."

"I shouldn't have said that. I was just..."

"But you did say it T. It's bad enough here. I have to go now. I can't make your time at home miserable by just being here."

"Joe, don't go."

Joe turned as he opened the door. He could see the regret in her eyes but he knew her truth had come out. His being there was painful. He walked out.

"Oh, fuck you!" she shouted as the door closed. "You fucking baby!"

The following day was Tina's birthday. Joe phoned Amethyst. He felt bad that they were fighting on her birthday, but the words he heard through the door, the nastiness, erased his guilt. He called to let her know he didn't forget.

"Happy Birthday, T."

"Yeah, it's gonna be great. Is that all you called for? If so, I'm busy."

"If you can handle seeing me, I'd like to come to your parent's house tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday and maybe we can talk without yelling or name-calling."

"No, Joe. I'm uninviting you. I don't need the reminder of what you've done on my birthday."

Click.

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--- FIFTH ANNIVERSARY ---

Three days later, Joe and Tina did not celebrate their anniversary. He was in Ocean Beach, Maryland mourning the day. After Tina uninvited him to her birthday, he left the city. He drove down the coast, using mostly rural routes to the Del-Mar-Va peninsula. For the first time, he truly felt this was the end. He didn't recognize the women who glared at him with cruel contempt, who used such hurtful vitriol. How can she speak to the man she loves this way? Joe often went with the simplest explanation. Tina no longer loved him. Even if she did, Joe was wounded and he didn't trust her anymore. How can you trust your heart to someone so willing to hurt you?

After the 11th passed, he drove home to Providence where his mother once again had a message. Tina had called. He nodded, hugged Jeanie and Jules, walked to his bedroom, and shut the door.

"What's wrong?" Jeanie asked as he disappeared down the stairs.

"He and Tina had another fight," Mom said.

"About what?"

"Tina admitted that she said some terrible things and she feels awful and wants to talk, but Joe just took off. That's what your brother does when he's hurt, he runs."

Jeanie and Jules waited a while, then went to him. He looked up from his pillow when they walked into his room.

"We're sorry," Jules said.

"Can I give you a hug?" Jeanie asked.

He said nothing. They approached. Jules sat by his legs. Jeanie hugged him, then Jules. They didn't talk. The girls sat with their big brother, one on each side, and let him know in the quietest way that they loved him. It didn't heal Joe's heart, but it made him feel better.

Joe did not call Tina. He stayed home for three days, hanging out with his sisters, chauffeuring them around town, doing what they always do. They had a day at the RISD museum and went to see Ghostbusters.

Jeanie pulled on Joe's shirt as they left the theater. "Hey Joey, can we go to the beach tomorrow?"

"No."

--- DAY 14 ---

Joe was back in New York two weeks before his flight to London. He didn't go to 3C. He checked into The Chelsea, put the do not disturb hanger on the door, and stayed in bed for the day. That night he dined and drank at El Quijote then ended his night with a bottle of bourbon in his room.

He didn't know what to do. The last time he went back against his gut feeling he was burned. Every time he returned he was hurt. He wanted to speak with Tina, but he was afraid it would end the same way; a short temper, harsh words, and him kicking himself for trusting her. He knew he had to see her before he flew to London, but he was in no hurry.

On Day 11 there was a knock on the door of Room 408. "Hey, Joe! Open up, mate. Let's have a chat."

Joe rolled over in bed and looked at the clock, 11:11. He reached for the bottle and took a swig. "Go away, Si. I don't want to see her. I don't want to see anyone."

Simon did not go away. He banged again, talking through the door, and banged again. "C'mon, Joe. I'm on your side. T told me everything. She's hurting, you're hurting. You need to talk."

"She did it to herself, Si. What the fuck is she hurting for?"

Si would not relent. Another guest emerged from their room complaining about the noise. Simon snapped at him, "How about you shut the fuck up?"