PUNKS Ch. 30: Dirty Little Secrets

May 1996

Joe's phone rang after 10 PM. He knew what was coming.

"Why didn't you pick up Monday morning?"

"Sorry. I was tied up."

"You could have returned my call."

"It's been a busy week. I knew you'd call one of these nights."

"I couldn't wait to hear about your interview. How was lunch with Mila? Tell me everything."

Joe did not tell Tina everything. The version she got took place entirely at The Surfside. There was no dinner at Carlo's or walks on the beach and certainly no sexual pentathlon. She asked about the interview. That's what he gave her. Tina was disappointed. She was expecting a better story.

"Did she say anything before you left? Have you talked to her since? Do you know when they'll print it?"

"Jesus Christ, T. You're just like my little sisters with the barrage of questions... back when they were five years old. She said a lot of things before she left. I have not spoken to Mila since she flew, and I won't hear from her for a long time."

"Why?"

"She says she sequesters herself when she's writing a piece. Then there's a rewrite, and she goes through her editor, then more writing. It'll be at least a few weeks before I hear anything and I have no clue what issue it will appear in."

"You have no idea if it will be two months off, or three?"

"Stop with the questions." Joe was exasperated. "I don't know. Mila said she would call me when her editor signs off."

"Let me know when you do."

"Okay, T."

It was not a busy week. Joe just didn't feel like calling, because he knew it would be an interrogation. He was still riding his Mila-high like a wave, for as long as he could. His endorphin and oxytocin rush from his weekend with her carried him for most of the week. By the first of May, he was back to himself, feeling comfortably alone, doing his daily routine, and not very enthusiastic about anything. He was okay, just going through the motions.

When you're in a sex drought and you finally break your slump, matters can get worse if you don't maintain a winning streak. The worst thing about having his weekend with Mila - the only bad thing - was getting a taste of the intimacy he needed and then starving again. It was brutal. Exercise and masturbation were his only release and he was doing plenty of both.

Joe joined pickup basketball games, getting a fresh fix of endorphins and dopamine, as well as letting out a little aggression. His morning runs went longer as he tried to replace the high he got from sex and emotional attachment with another form of physical high. He was doing what he could to feel better. It wasn't enough.

His phone rang in the usual late-night window.

"How have you been? The last couple of calls you seemed." she paused. "not yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"You're usually in a good mood and have a few wisecracks. I'm not saying you're in a bad mood, but you've been short with me a few times and just not in your usual mood."

"I'm okay, T. Sometimes you push too hard and I have to say so. Things are fine here, just a bit slow."

"Are you still lonely?"

"I never said I was."

"You said you have lonely moments."

"I still have those, and so do you."

"That's why you and I talking feels good."

"Loneliness is a beautiful thing to share with someone."

Tina slightly gasped. "Did you just make that up?"

"No, I heard that a while back."

"Where? Is that the lyrics to a song?"

"No, Coach on Cheers used that line. It was so good I never forgot it. When I'm truly lonely I find someone else who's alone, and share our loneliness."

"Like who? Who do you do that with?"

"There are so many old-timers around here who don't have anyone. I know them well, so I sit with the retirees in the coffee shop, or at the bar. We just talk. We still go back to an empty home but at least we had someone to talk to for a while."

"Jesus, Joe. Are you trying to make me cry? What was that line again?"

"Loneliness is a beautiful thing to share with someone."

"That's beautiful. You heard that on Cheers?"

"I just told you that. Some comedy writers for NBC wrote it. Diane thought it was beautiful too."

"Diane who?"

"Diane Chambers on Cheers. Pay attention, T."

"I don't remember everything as you do. It's actually pretty fucking creepy how you recall little things from years ago. It's weird, Joe, but it's also wonderful."

"It's a blessing and a curse."

"Are you lonely a lot?"

"Define a lot."

"Are you lonely every day?"

"No."

"Every week?"

"Yeah. I have a few moments every week. It's not depressive loneliness. It's wishing I had someone to share a moment with."

"What kind of moments?"

"T, this what I mean, You're doing your impersonation little girl in the back seat of the family car... the endless questions."

"When do you feel lonely?"

Joe breathed out, exasperated, again. "Let's say I cook a nice meal for myself and it comes out perfect. I might wish I had someone to share that with. Last week I was playing guitar in the studio and came up with a cool riff. I wished I had someone there, especially a bass player or drummer. I'm not wallowing in loneliness. I just have moments."

"I do too."

"I know, but you live with someone, T. You're never actually alone."

"That's the worst kind of loneliness."

Joe felt that line in the chest. Tina was admitting she was lonely in marriage. He didn't know how to respond. In the past, he'd exploit this moment of vulnerability, and go after her about being married to the wrong man. He was sticking to the kinder, empathetic approach these days. He wasn't working to make Tina jealous anymore.

"You'd never be lonely with me," Joe said softly.

Not a great comeback, kinda cheese ball, but that was the best he could come up with at the moment. Tina didn't reply. Joe knew she was unhappy, confused, torn, and isolated at times with her husband focused on himself and his criminal defense. She'd never admit it, but Tina was not getting the emotional connection and support she needed. That's what these wee-hour phone calls were about. Once again, Joe was giving Tina something she needed from him. It wasn't sexual, but she needed this connection as much as any. There was a long silence they both felt.

"I have to go, Joe. I'm tired. Goodnight. I love you."

"Love you too, T."

The abrupt end was common on their calls. It was part of the shorthand Joe and Tina had after so many years. No one was hurt when the other said, "Gotta go. Love you." and just hung up. When they picked up the phone they didn't always say hi or how are you? Whoever had something to say would just launch into it.

Joe knew her so well. He could read Tina's sighs and silence. Her breathing was a language to him. He knew this new phase with T was not good for him. But this comfort and familiarity drew Joe to her and her to Joe. Of course, there was love and lust, but it was this closeness that made them feel instinctively connected... best friends.

******

Joe was in familiar territory, conflicted, with two women on his mind but neither in his bed. He was talking to Tina, enjoying the warmth he felt with her, and thinking of Mila, waiting for that phone call, wondering if his relationship with her was more than a weekend fling.

Mila had said something to Joe during her visit, words that kept coming back to him. "You have a beautiful life."

She said it as they left the coffee shop, Joe's friends laughing at a dumb joke he made. She hugged him while saying it after they chatted with a group of hoops players while the young men busted Joe's balls about the hot babe he was with. She said it when he fist-bumped skaters who had just enthusiastically told him and Mila tales of 'shredding the Escondido Reservoir' the day before.

Mila did not see the other side of Joe's life because it's not possible to see his loneliness while sharing his bed. She only saw his public life and his intimate side, one on one, which is an entirely different man than his dark side. In Joe's mind, he did not have a beautiful life. It was messy, with periods of pain and bouts of depression. Few people actually knew that Joe. Chico did. Annie knew him. Grant met him first. They were the friends who picked him up when he fell down.

During her visit, any talk of his love life was done in dismissive wisecracks that directed Mila away from his intimate secrets. He didn't discuss Jasmine and he barely scratched the surface on Tina... except for the phone message moment when he explained they're still friends. Mila only saw him at his best.

With the taste of intimacy fresh on his tongue and Joe's hormones on fire, his male urges became a distraction. He felt the need to get down with someone but his body and mind were not as one. He wanted a woman to fuck, but his was already fucked... with angst and insecurity.

There was no shortage of potential partners. As he had told Tina long ago, all he has to do is hang around the boardwalk and opportunities would materialize. Every shift he worked at The Surfside had girls coming and going. His problem was and had been for years, that he was uncomfortable hooking up at home.

The old creepers enjoyed having the girls come by, and Joe's dilemma. They busted his ass when he allowed a flirting girl to get away.

"Are you a goddamn monk?" Bert grumbled.

"Did you take a vow of chastity?" Charlie took a sip of beer.

"You're gay," George said too loud. "Only a gay man would pass on her."

"Come here, Joe." Stew waved a finger. "Let me check your pulse."

Joe got tired of the comments. "Do you guys remember Lisa? The blonde chick I got hooked up with my first year here."

"Vaguely."

"She had that lime green bikini that you said was postage stamps on nipples."

"Oh yeah." Charlie smiled. "We loved Lisa. She was a good girl."

"That bathing suit is legendary." George held his beer up.

Bert cleared his throat. "And so was the body in it."

"She was a psycho stalker," Don said. "I remember. She broke into your house, right?"

"Yes, she did," Joe said. "Here's the thing. I know most of these girls are cool, but if bang one nutjob my life here is upside down. I was nobody when Lisa went batshit. She made my life miserable. Now I have roots and a business and I don't want to fuck that up on a fling."

"You know who the sane ones are, Joe," Charlie said. "Like Rita. She's a good girl."

"And age-appropriate," George added.

"I don't think so."

"Why, because she has a kid?" Bert waved his arm, disgusted with Joe.

"No, because she has an ex with a history of restraining orders. They're cool now, joint custody and all, but do I really want to date that goon's ex-wife and be pals with his seven-year-old son?"

Bert leaned back. "Awww. I never thought of that. Poor Rita."

"I know! She's awesome. I thought about it, and that's just how I see it." Joe raised his arms. "Hey. Why don't guys worry about your blue balls and not mine?"

No matter how cute, hot, or sweet a girl was on him, Joe could explain why he couldn't go there. Patty talked too much. Rita had a crazy ex. Gail was looking for a roommate. Have you seen Luna's jealous Latina temper?

"You could give Jasmine a call," Stew said.

"She dumped him." Bert said, "Where have you been?"

"When did she do that?" Stew was shocked.

"Last year," Bert said, "but he just told us last week."

"The week before." Charlie corrected him.

"Who gives a fuck?" Bert wagged his empty bottle. "Joe, can I get another?"

Joe exhaled. This place and these miserable old fucks were part of his life. They were his friends, but damn, he could use some friends his age. Maybe Joe was hanging around The Surfside during the day too much. He should try some evening shifts when the crowd is younger and the jukebox is louder than the TV. He'd done it before. That's how he met Lisa, ouch. But he also met Joy and Marisol, very nice girls.

"Hey, you should give Mila a call."

"Shut up, George."

-- Mrs Mengele --

There were times when Joe and Tina's late-night calls were confessional. He'd admit to shitty things he's done, not crimes, but selfish behavior.

"I was tight with my band but I was a dick at times. When you're stuck on the road with three other dudes, they can get on your nerves. A tour bus gets stinky, and it's just too close quarters. I didn't want to say it, so I'd just ditch them and do my own thing. I felt bad, but I needed some space."

"Where did you go?"

"I'd just go do what I've told you a hundred times, see the city, meet people. The guys had little curiosity beyond the big things. They did the Eiffel Tower with me. Idiots we are, we had no camera. There was a zero percent chance any of them would go to a museum. I explored the cities on my own."

"If they had no desire to explore, you shouldn't feel bad that you ditched them."

"Sometimes I went to a pub alone. I could have invited them, but I wanted to talk to strangers, anyone not on that fucking bus. The guys would make lunch plans and I wouldn't show up. I was an inconsiderate asshole sometimes."

"Joe. You won't do what you don't want to do."

"And that's a good rule to live by."

"Give me something good, T. Why are you a shitty person. What makes you feel guilty?"

"I think about you too much. That is literally what I'm dealing with these days. I'm so distracted, Joe. It's amazing I get anything done."

Joe laughed, "You're such a good Catholic girl you're confessing to thought crimes. You covet me, T. That's what you feel guilty about?

"Yes. I covet you."

"And why is it that coveting thy neighbor's wife is a top ten felony sin, but coveting his daughter might be okay? Women covet. Why are there no rules against them coveting? I guess the ladies can covet thy neighbor's menfolk. That's all cool, just don't covet a wife."

Tina laughed. "Why do you care if you don't believe in that?"

"I don't actually care. I just point out the stupid hypocrisy and double standards. Coveting is a thought crime. You're confessing to coveting me. That's Orwellian... and Catholic. How will the Big Brother Pope punish you for this coveting?"

"I fucked you and committed adultery, I'm not too worried about the coveting charges against me. Small potatoes."

"Are you at least rubbing one out while you're coveting me?"

"Yeah, of course. I used my little buzzy bug the other day thinking of your mouth on me. Then I brought in the dildo."

"Was he a relief pitcher or did they double-team you?"

Tina laughed, "Where the fuck do you come up with this shit?" She sighed. "I got double-teamed. Coveting you."

"I like that, it's a good sin, but you shouldn't feel guilty about it. I mean, you've fucked me before. I'm kinda unforgettable."

"Oh, My God. Did you just say that?" Tina exhaled.

"I know you think of me when you diddle yourself. Give me something good, T. A dubious thing you've done... something that might shock me."

"No, it's your turn. Give me something better than being shitty to your band."

"Did you know I fucked your best friend?"

"Yes, but you don't feel shitty about that, so it doesn't count."

"I fucked my sister's best friend on the night of her wedding?"

"You fucked the bride?"

"Nooo! My sister's wedding. I drove back from Argentina for my sister's wedding. Isabelle was supposed to meet me in LA. Then were going to drive cross country so she could see America. Of course, she never got on that plane. I left Ellie here and flew back east for the wedding."

"And you fucked your sister's friend?"

"Yeah. Wendy was the Maid of honor. She had a crush on me when I was sixteen."

"And how old was she?"

"She and Jackie are three years behind me. We had a blast at the wedding. I didn't tell anyone about Isabelle leaving. I lied and said her dad was sick. Late, after most guests had gone home, I told Wendy what happened and ..."

"Such a pathetic move, Joe. You were playing your tiny violin hoping for a pity fuck."

"No. If I was trying to fuck Wendy, all I had to do was ask. Trust me. I was talking to an old friend. She then offered me a ride home, because she's not a drinker and I didn't have a car. And we fucked like teenagers in her Chevy Blazer. The following evening I took her downtown to Cappricio, a nice restaurant, and I got a room at The Biltmore."

"Did Jackie find out?"

"Are you kidding me? My sister knows everything. She had an eye on us all day, but she had a wedding night obligation and couldn't cock block me because Jackie was busy getting fucked by her hot paramedic groom. She was very angry with me but I was back in LA by the time she got home from her honeymoon."

"Did Wendy plan on fucking you?"

"I think so. And she fucked me again when I went back home for Christmas two months later. Let me tell you why Jackie was so pissed off. She was trying to fix Wendy up with one of the groomsmen, and I torpedoed her matchmaking, and ruined that guy's day."

"You have no shame. Is there anyone's friends you won't fuck?"

"My mom's friends are a no-go," Joe laughed. "I don't feel shitty about fucking Wendy, but because I know it was wrong and I knew my sister would be furious with me, and I knew why... I see fucking Wendy as not my finest hour."

"You fucked her on a hard rebound."

"I definitely did. Okay, your turn. Give me something that will make me gasp."

Tina went quiet, thinking, trying to come up with something that might shock Joe. It wasn't easy because he was not easily shocked.

"Okay," she exhaled. "I'm going to tell you something you might judge me for."

"Oh. Please do."

"It's not good."

"Did you break another of the big commandments?"

"No."

"It might be easier to list the ones you haven't broken."

"You can stop. Remember I told you about Troy's bedtime routine?"

"Yes, he's a diva."

"Tonight, I slipped an extra pill in his evening cocktail. He's not waking up."

"Are you confessing to murder?"

Tina laughed, "No. He'll be fine after a good night's sleep. He takes one pill. Two on weekends if he wants to sleep in. I just used that dose to assure we're not busted."

"Do you do this often?"

"No. A few times when I wanted to call you earlier than usual."

"Okay, Mrs. Mengele. I won't be leaving any unattended cocktails near you. You're a doser, a Mickey slipper, judged and guilty.

"No, I'm not. He takes these pills every night."

"Thou shalt not dose thy husband was commandment number twelve. Moses dropped the third tablet, and well... you're breaking one of the lost commandments."

"Was Thou shalt not sleep with your woman's best friend on that slab?"

"It's fornicate. Thou shalt not fornicate with thy wife's best friend. So, I'm actually good because you're not my wife."

"You always find the fine print."

"It's the most important print."

Tina yawned. There was silence. Joe listened to her breathing... and listened.

"Hey," he said, "Now that I think about it. I don't feel so bad about ditching my band. It's not like I'm slipping drugs into their drinks. I'm not as bad a person as you."

Tina sighed, "Oh, fuck you, Joe." She yawned again. "On that note, I'm out. Goodnight, Joe. I love you."

"Me too."

"No, me too is not the answer to that."

"Sorry," Joe made a dumb-sounding voice. 'I love you too, T."

-- All Grown Up --

Joe walked into The Daily Grind after his morning run. As he stepped up to the counter, someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned to see Cheri's beaming smile, but she wasn't skater chick Cheri, she was wearing clothes.

"Morning, Joe. You look stinky and sweaty."

"Hey Cheri," Joe looked her up and down. Her wild hair was combed out, more wavy, less curly. "I'll be hitting the shower right after coffee."

Cheri smiled. "That sounds like fun."

Joe stared at her mouth, her smiling, glistening lips... not responding to her flirting. He got lost in his thoughts for a moment.