The First Ninety Days Ch. 13

"Oh, it was great! Did I tell you? I got a girlfriend!"

Caitlyn felt her jaw hit the floor—for a moment, she thought it had actually become detached from her body and fallen off. Then she realized she'd dropped the cup she'd been holding. Fortunately it was plastic, and mostly empty. Mostly. She wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder and reached for the paper towels. "...Really! That's... Wow, that's incredible!"

"I know, isn't it? You remember the last time we went to hang out? Well, after you guys left, some girl came over and talked to me. She said she'd heard some of our conversation and that she felt sorry for me—"

Hold on, shewhat?? Did he really just say that? Caitlyn for a moment imagined her forehead in the center of Harold's crosshairs. "Oh?"

"Yeah, she said that you were trying your best to be a good friend, but Jon was kind of holding you back."

"...Oh," she said. What was the right response to that. "Umm. I'm sorry. Jon can be kind of..."

Harold chuckled. "No no no, don't worry. Heck, maybe I should thank him: if it weren't for that, I would never have met Pamela."

Caitlyn let out a silent breath. "Still, I want to apologize. Jon's rudeness helping you get somewhere still doesn't excuse the fact that he was rude. And the next time we see you, I'll make sure he does as well."

"Well, actually..."

Caitlyn held her breath again.Oh, now what?

"Talking with Pamela... Well, we talked about a lot of things. And she said that, if Jon didn't want to be there, I shouldn't make him. So, you don't have to bring him. Actually, don't bring him at all. Pamela thinks he's kind of a jerk. And, actually, so do I."

The fact that this Pamela person was right, under these circumstances at least, did not mitigate her indignation. "Where Jon isn't welcome, I'm not welcome either, Harold. We're married. There isn't a line you can draw between us like that."

"Oh, well, that's too bad. Oh well. I guess I'll see you around church then?"

It took Caitlyn a moment to process this statement.He's... He's just... "Umm... Yeah. I guess."He's just cutting us off?

"Okay. It's been nice knowing you, Caitlyn. Take care." He hung up.

Caitlyn stared at the phone.Who poured a quart of fresh guts downhis throat? He had a hunch her name started with a P and rhymed with-amela.

Jon was right. Haroldwas a jerk. Up until now he'd been a lame, friendless one, to be sure, but... A jerk nonetheless.After all we've done for him—being as nice to him as we can, being supportive of him even when he annoys us... And now he just wants to... I can't believe it! He wouldn't evenknow her if it wasn't for us! She wondered if he was getting laid. Might that be the source of his new-found confidence?

Jon was right... But so was Harold.

Jon had done his best to be patient, and she knew it; but there was probably no way to hide the fact that he didn't actually like Harold, and she knew that too. They had been counting on Harold remaining so self-absorbed that he didn't see what was right under his nose: Jon's boredom—and, for that matter, Caitlyn's boredom as well. Now that the long affair had been played out and there was no pressure, she could admit it to herself: she didn't like Harold either. Perhaps this Pamela found his ego and constant chatter endearing; Caitlyn, for her part, had wished for a sock to stuff in his mouth. She had done it only because it was the right thing to do; and, no matter how much she tried, virtue hadnot been its own reward in this case.

And yet it wasn't Caitlyn's mistreatment Harold had zeroed in on. It was Jon's.

Jondidn't care. And even more than that, Jon didn't eventry to care. He just judged from the start and didn't give Harold a second chance. The fact that Jon was right doesn't excuse him; he could've just as possibly been wrong. Jon just... Judges. He decides, and then he sticks himself in that rut, and he doesn't... He doesn't ever give anybody a chance. He doesn'tlisten to anybody. Not to God, not to other people... Not to me.

She knew then what the problem was.

It was a long, tedious wait until she saw him again. She had to sit around the apartment, trying to do homework or housework, checking the clock for progress. An hour would pass and she would glance at the digital display on the wall only to find that, no, as a matter of fact it had only been three minutes. Then she had to go to orchestra practice, where everything seemed chosen deliberately to make the time drag: no one had their music, none of the instruments were in place, people were late, people forgot what they were doing, Professor Felman forgot what they were doing... Everything that she could imagine going wrong, did; and then something went wrong that shecouldn't imagine: the membrane on the timpani ruptured, causing some sort of damage to the instrument, which would only increase the repair costs. And then, of course, Felman had them stay late to make up for lost time, further delaying not only her reckoning but her evening meal. By the time orchestra practice let out at 8:11, she felt ravenous, and five years older.

When she got home, Jon was pacing anxiously, but she thought this was an improvement from zoned out, sitting on the couch. "Where were you?" he demanded.

"Orchestra practice ran late," she said. "Everything went wrong."

"By forty-five minutes?"

"Yes, by forty-five minutes. When I say 'everything,' Imean 'everything,' Jon. Did you know that, if a violist accidentally strings his instrument with two C-strings, that's a bad thing, and he has to stop, take off the wrong string and put the right one on again? And that, since he's the soloist, we have to all sit there waiting for him?"

"Wait, seriously?" said Jon.

"Seriously," said Caitlyn. "You know Felman. He's a nice guy, but if you mess up hereally lets you know." She blinked at him. "Why, what did you think had happened?"

"Uhh... Nothing," he said.

She looked at him.

"Well... Something, but... I don't want to dignify it by saying it out loud."

That was fair enough; how often didshe feel like it was better to keep her thoughts to herself? "Okay. Well, I'm here. And I'm sorry for making you wait."

"It's okay. Umm. It's just leftovers, so..."

The dinner was civil, and they talked rather more than they normally did; these things gave her heart. He joked about things that had happened at work; she, now able to laugh at the various errors at orchestra practice, related some of those. But just as conspicuously, there were things they didn't talk about; just as conspicuously, he kept his hands to himself. Normally it was as if he could never get enough of her, as if being physically apart from her for more than a few minutes was too much; sometimes it was wearying, but sometimes it was endearing too. Today its absence screeched like a singing wineglass.

Caitlyn suddenly saw herself: sitting at this table with as genuine a smile pasted on her face as she could manage, trying to be polite, feeling completely helpless. Her marriage, once as reassuring as a cathedral, now seemed riddled with cracks, liable to fall apart if touched the wrong way; they had instinctively avoided anything that might cause the whole house of cards to fall apart.Is this what it comes to? We married, we loved each other; but now... It this all our love amounts to? This is the man I decided to spend my life with. Is this all it takes to rive us apart?

"...I have to go to the bathroom," she said.

Their toilet was off in its own little room, barely more than a closet, for no good reason she could understand. She closed the door though the resulting room was claustrophobic. It felt like she did.

She stayed in there a long time; she almost could bear to come out. When she did, Jon was on the computer, and the food put away, including the meal she had half-managed to consume. She microwaved it and forced a little more down. For the first time in her life, she understood what people meant when they talked about food tasting like ashes.

Finally, she was out of excuses. She put the plate down and faced the door to the bedroom. Beyond it, Jon was still clicking away, doing God-only-knew-what. She envied him his calm. She envied him his distraction.

"J-Jon?"

He looked up immediately. "Yeah?"

"We... We need to talk."

A swift series of emotions crossed over his face; he made a few more mouse clicks, presumably pausing whatever activities he was doing, and stood up to walk to her.

She envied him his calm.

"Did you figure it out?" he said.

"Yeah," she said, "I think I... I think I get some of it."

"Okay." If his heart was anything like hers, it was flip-flopping in his chest, but it still didn't show on his face. Darn him.

"I, umm. I spoke with Harold today."

"Okay. And?"

"Well... He said that, actually, he has a girlfriend now."

She was expecting disinterest, and Jon did not disappoint. "Excellent, now we can stop wasting time on him. Did he say how he got her?"

"Jon,no one is a waste of time."

"He is. I wonder how this girlfriend of his puts up with him."

"She likes him because, to her, he is not a waste of time," said Caitlyn, a tad more sharply than she'd intended.

"Well, fine," said Jon, "toher he's not a waste of time. But, seeing as how we aren'teither of us this girlfriend of his..."

"Jon, don't you get it? Christ calls us to keep looking. Christ calls us to try and find out how heisn't a waste of time."

"So you mean Christ calls us to be his girlfriend? Both of us?" said Jon.

She didn't let him derail her. "Christ calls us toturn the other cheek. To give Harold a chance—to give him as many chances as he needs—to show us who he truly is, so that we can appreciate him that way."

"So, what?" said Jon. "Are you saying I didn't give him a chance?"

"I don't have to say it," Caitlyn said quietly. "You know it's true."

To his credit, he didn't try to deny it.

"And so, I should add, does Harold," Caitlyn said.

That got him. His eyes went wide and he stared at her. "He noticed?"

"Yes."

"...Shit. That sucks."

"Would you like to know what he said to me?"

Jon grimaced. "No, I wouldn't, but I think I need to anyway. Tell me."

"He said that he could tell. He said that he was tired of being treated that way by you, and he said that, the next time I go hang out with him, I shouldn't ask you to come along."

Jon mopped his face with his hands. "Shit. I didn't... Caitlyn, you know I wasn't trying to... Shit. I wanted him to feel accepted. I wanted him to feel liked."

"Then why didn't you do it instead of faking it," she asked quietly.

"Well... Because... Well, I mean, come on, Caitlyn, Idon't like him." He gave a rueful grimace. "I think he's a jerk."

And as she knew all too well, that was an accurate assessment. "Well. I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles."

"So, how'd he meet this gal, anyhow?"

"After we left, she came and talked to him. She said she felt sorry for him, having such half-assed friends."

Jon gave a guffaw. "So you mean it's actuallyour fault that he has a girlfriend? Ha! I hope he thanked us."

"Still, Jon. It's true that our poor friendship ended up helping him, but that doesn't excuse us for being poor friends. It doesn't excuseyou for being a poor friend."

"I never said it did," he said. "I was just pointing out that it had a beneficial effect—"

"So that you could cop out of the responsibility?"

"Caitlyn... It's not my responsibility to be his friend. Unless I say it is."

"Didn't you?"

"No! Caitlyn, I don't evenlike him."

"Then why were you trying to do something nice for him?"

"I..."

"And why, for that matter, couldn't you have done more than a half-assed job at it?"

"Well... I..."

"It's because you just decided," Caitlyn said. "You just... You make up your mind, Jon, and then you don't let anyone dissuade you. Not even things like, say, facts, or the truth."

Jon looked stricken. "I thought that was your parents' purview."

"Evidently it's not exclusively theirs. Doesn't it take one to know one? Jon, this is even true of ourlove life. I want you to tie me down and have your way with me, and you won't entertain the thought.You want to do my ass, and I consider it, I prepare myself for it, Ilet you do it—"

"Caitlyn, I have moral objections to that, as I've told you—"

"Jon, I had moral objections to letting you do what you did on Thursday. But I did it anyway."

He was silent.

"I know there's a lot of stuff going around about whether the Bible is still applicable, and some of it is pretty valid. But there's no harm in playing it safe, is there? Even if you're not sure, why not avoid it anyway? But you didn't want to. So I did it. For you. I let you do things to me that made me uncomfortable, that didn't feel comfortable, that maybe have put my standings in the afterlife in jeopardy."

"You didn't have to."

"I know. And I thought about it a lot. And you know what I decided?" Once again the tears were threatening. This time they weren't joyful. "I, I decided that, if it would please you... It was worth it. It was worth the risk. I love you so much that I'm willing to put myself in a bad position to make you happy."

"Caitlyn..."

She heard the pain in his voice, but didn't let herself stop. "Jon, I sinned for you." Definitely crying now; maybe he was too. "I let things get to be too much, because I love you. I walked down the path of sin for you. And yet now you won't walk down the same path for me. Heck, you won't even walk the path ofvirtue for me. You justwon't move. Because you've made up your mind, and you aren't going to listen to anyone anymore. Chuh. Youare like Harold that way."

He was silent for a moment, and Caitlyn felt the world shying under her; there were many millions of responses he could make, and most of them were the wrong ones. But he said, "What do you think I should change," and hope soared in her heart.

"I just... Jon, I want you to try being more open to... To changing your mind. To listening to people. I want you be willing to give people a chance."

"To turn the other cheek."

"Yes, to... To be open. Nobody ever knows the whole story, Jon. Someone may rub you the wrong way, but that doesn't mean you know them, or that they're going to stay like that forever. You just have to give them the benefit of the doubt."

He looked at her. "What happens if they just keep rubbing you the wrong way?"

"Then you just keep trying."

"That could take a while."

"Jon, it's about being willing to love. Don't you believe in that?"

"Caitlyn, you of all people should know that some people aren't easy to love."

"Then you just keep trying. You don't let yourself get knocked down. You don't let yourself get stopped by setbacks. Perseverance is a virtue, Jon."

"I know, but... What about if it's a lost cause?"

"There is no such thing," she said. "People will be wonderful if you give them the right chance. Jon,you taught me that. No one is a lost cause to God."

"To God, perhaps, but... We here on Earth have kind of a different perspective," he said.

"But isn't that the point of faith?" she said. "To become closer to God? Pastor Pendleton likes to say that a husband and wife should form a triangle with God, so that to become closer to Him is to become closer to each other."

"Yeah, I remember," he said. "Your parents have that pinned up on their refrigerator."

"What did you think?"

"I... I dunno. It just... It's a good way to think about it."

But not a way he liked. She tried a different tack. "Weren't you the one saying that pursuing Christ was important to you? That you wanted to follow Jesus' example?"

"Yes, I do," he said. "But within reason."

"And what doesthat mean?"

"What itmeans," he said, "was that Jesus was the son of God. As such, it's a lot easier for him to do those things."

"You said you believed in him even if he isn't divine in nature," she said.

"Well... Okay, fine," he said, and she knew she'd headed something off. "Fine, so that argument doesn't work. But I still think it stands."

"How?"

"Look, sweetie, Christ was all about self-sacrifice."

"Of course. 'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son...' " John 3:16 was, arguably, the cornerstone of Christianity as a religion....that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

"Right, so, God's into self-sacrifice. Jesus set an example by allowing himself to be martyred. He let himselfdie for the sake of the world."

"Okay," she said, not getting his complaint. "So?"

"...So..." He seemed to be struggling with a concept too strange to articulate. "...So... That doesn't strike you as suicidal?"

She gave him a look of confusion. "What?"

"Look, sweetie, God gave us that as an example. Christ tells us that you should be willing to give up anything—anything—in His service. Including your life. Including everything that's important to you. Doesn't that scare you?"

Caitlyn shook her head. "God would never ask those things of us if He didn't plan to give us more, and better, in return."

"Tell that to six million Jews," Jon said. "Tell that to victims of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia. Tell that to the orphans in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the fatherless kids here in America too."

"True, those people suffer, but you're making the mistake of assuming that this human frame of reference is the only one that matters. The benefits of those fates may only become clear later in life, or even only in Heaven. What matters is not that we understand, what matters is that we persevere."

He shook his head. "You can't really believe that."

She looked at him, bewildered. "I do believe that. I can't explain how or why; that's faith, Jon, that's personal. That's something you have to find for yourself. All I know is that Ido believe. I believe that, when God calls, I should listen. And I believe that, whatever God asks of me, however onerous it may be... There are blessings on their way."

He shook his head. "You may believe that, but I don't. I just... God plays His chess without consulting His pieces. I can't help but worry that He would move me away from you."

"Well, it's okay if you don't believe it yet," she said, "that's part of the faith journey everyone has to make. But as to the other... It may be true, but He still wouldn't splitus apart."

"Why not?"

"Well, because He meant for us to be together, didn't He? If that's the case, then nothing can keep us apart."

"And if He didn't?"

She didn't like to think about that, but there was no way to not lie: "...Well, if that's the case, then nothing can keep us together. But thatincludes not having faith in Him, Jon. That's like closing your eyes and pretending I can't see you."

"Caitlyn, I just can't trust that God is going to do what's best for me."

"Yes you can, Jon. And besides, how do you evenknow what's best for you?None of us knows what's actually, really, truly right for ourselves in the end. Besides, if you can't trust God to know that, how can you trust other people, who know even less?"

"Well, at least they're there. At least I can explain it to them."

"And maybe they'll listen, but that still doesn't make it right."

He gave her a cross look. "This is about Thursday, isn't it."