Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 13

"I do love you," Shane whispered.

"I know."

"I've never said that to anyone before."

"I know that, too. And I know it's hard for you to say, really hard. And I appreciate it, more than you can ever know. But I know, too, how confusing all this is. You've never been in love, and you're struggling to learn how. And as many roommates as you've had over the years, and the places you've lived, you never lived with a person you loved, and you don't know how to do that, either. But that puts you and me in the same boat. I've mostly always lived at home. I've never lived with a lover, so I'll be learning how to do it, just like you. Shane, if we live together, it's not going to be just as roommates, or housemates. We'll have to learn how to live with each other as a couple, as two lovers." She paused. "If that's what it is you want."

Shane looked out the big window, watching a jetliner taxi up to the concourse.

"The shrink once told me to make a list of pro's and con's, so that's one of the things I've been doing, in my head. A list of the good reasons for you moving in, and a list of the bad reasons."

"You aren't normally a list-maker."

"I know."

"I am."

"I know."

"List-making drives you crazy."

"I know." They laughed.

"Okay, so tell me what all the bad reasons were."

"Well, that's part of the problem. I tried and tried, and I could only come up with one bad reason. I thought maybe there should be more, but there weren't. So I thought maybe I was missing something, or doing something wrong."

"Stop beating around the bush, and just tell me."

"It wasn't about you, it was about me."

"Shane, I'm going to hit you with this beer bottle."

"The bad reason was ... I'm scared."

"Scared?"

Shane swiveled a 360-degree turn on her barstool. Carmen let her work on it.

"I'm scared to death. I'm scared it won't work out. I'm scared I'll say or do something stupid. I'm scared I'll hurt you. I'm scared ... to tell you things about me. About my life. I'm scared about love. I worry ... sometimes I think love will kill me if I fall in love with somebody."

"You think that if I find out who the real Shane McCutcheon is, I won't love her anymore? That I'll stop loving her?"

Shane shrugged.

"You're worried I'll find out that deep down you're some bad, unworthy person who is undeserving of my love?"

"Something like that, I guess."

Carmen took a sip of her beer."Okay, I get that. And I have an answer. Here it is: Why not let me worry about how worthy or unworthy you are. How about letting me be the judge, instead of you deciding it for me?"

Shane looked out the window.

"Does that seem fair? Letting me decide?"

Shane looked down, then nodded.

"Because, hey, maybe you are some worthless horndog, piece-of-shit, cowardly, good-for-nothing, rat-fucking, lying, cheating, two-faced, mean, horrible, screaming, puppy-kicking, baby-strangling--" Carmen said, smiling until Shane blanched and looked up, and started laughing, too.

"Jeez, Carmen, okay, I get it."

"--but even if you are all those things, which by the way you're not," Carmen continued, leaning her forehead against Shane's, "but even if you were unworthy, it's still my decision whether I want to love you anyway. The only part you get to decide is if you love me. Whether I love you is basically out of your hands. Right? We on the same page about that?"

"Okay," Shane said.

"Because while we're discussing your many shortcomings, let's add in that you are a truly good-hearted person, you are wonderfully loyal to your friends, whom you love unreservedly, like you love Jenny and Alice and Kit and Bette and Tina and Dana and Helena, and you would do anything in the world for them, and you know that. And you like babies and puppies and kittens, and you are a world-class kisser, and you fuck wonderfully, and you are fun and easy to be around, and you aren't some neurotic crazy bitch, you aren't a nag, you aren't violent, you aren't a drug addict, you aren't an alcoholic, you don't rob banks and liquor stores, you're a good, careful driver, I love your clothes and your fashion sense, and your hair and your mouth and your tits, and sometimes just looking at you, you make my pussy wet, and you don't have any obnoxious relatives and you shower regularly and brush your teeth and don't eat crackers in bed and I've never heard you fart in public. Okay? So let's let the question of your fitness to be the love of my life be up to me. Okay? And anyway, whether you like it or not, that question has already been decided, and there's nothing I can do about it. Or you either."

Shane had her eyes closed. "God, I so don't deserve you," she whispered.

"I know you don't," Carmen said, smiling, "but you got me anyway. Sometimes you catch a break, and Ixchel smiles down upon you."

"Who is Ixchel?"

"Never mind. It's not on the mid-term. Let's get out of here before I owe another day on the parking fee. I want to take you home and get out of these sticky clothes and take a shower. And since I've already fucked you in the shower and in your room, I want to fuck you in the kitchen, and in the living room, and on the dining room table, and in Jenny's old room, and in the attic and in the basement, in the studio out back, and who knows, maybe on the back porch and in Bette and Tina's pool."

"The house doesn't have a basement," Shane said.

"It doesn't?"

"No."

"Well, fuck. Then I guess the deal's off."

"Like hell," Shane said.