It was a brand new house. With the changing needs and wants of former city dwellers, it became easier to tear down Wilson, New Jersey’s McMansions and build new ones, rather than resell old ones once their former inhabitants went looking for upgrades. The grass was also brand new and it’s smell seeped in through the open window of where Marissa was now comforting her crying baby. It was the smell of grass, but also, Marissa realized, the smell of whatever the shit is that they treat new grass with to keep it shiny and green.
She heard the voices of her–fairly–new husband and her rather old boyfriend coming in from the kitchen. For the first time since her child’s birth, she found herself fairly annoyed at having to give something up for it, in this case it was the precious moments of a conversation with the smartest, most interesting man she had ever known (I’m not talking about the husband), for a baby that cried for no real reason.
“It’s not that I don’t like art, I do” her husband John was passionately telling Tommy who, as Marissa once did, lived and breathed art in New York City. She came back into the kitchen as John added, “but, right now I just can’t see spending all this money on something that has no real purpose“.
Marissa, taking her seat, was embarrassed for–and by–her husband, but impressed with Tommy who somehow didn’t launch into one of the verbal assault’s he was so well known for in Chelsea. Instead, showing graceful restraint, he said “I can understand that…”. Marissa smiled at him.
“Now real-estate, I mean…” John added, bringing back up the subject that had occupied him for months now, “that’s the future, you know how much the farmer whose land these houses were built on made?”
Tommy was being almost unnaturally polite and asked, “How much?”.
“Well, I’m not sure, but–”
The sound of crying interrupted him. It was the baby again and again he flashed a look over to Marissa, but she resisted.
“Can’t you do it?” she asked.
John frowned, both to his wife and to Tommy, but reluctantly got up and went to the baby’s room. When he left, Marissa laughed at her ex-boyfriend.
“Hey, thanks for not freaking out before, when he said…” she deteriorated into laughter.
A stern look came into Tommy’s face and he leaned close to her across the table. “This is
horrible”,
he said,
not mincing a word.“This is horrible”, he said, not mincing a word. She stopped laughing. “You know how hard it is for me to see you like this?”
“Like what–”
“This man is an idiot! What are you doing–”
“Excuse me! Don’t talk about–”
“No listen” Tommy nearly shouted, “because I won’t ever get a chance to say this again, I’m probably already too late and should’ve said this when you were still in the city; but you can’t live like this, this isn’t you!”
Marissa grew silent for a moment, “What the hell are you telling me?” she whispered, “What do you want from me? This is my life.”
“But maybe it’s not, maybe it’s just a dream–or a mistake. A fixable mistake. Maybe you could wake up with me in the city tomorrow morning as if it never happened.” She saw that he was dead serious.
“I have a baby–”
“No! Forget that, forget everything for a moment. Think about you, because you may not get a second chance to. Leave with me. Leave with me tonight, now. Come back to the city.”
“I can’t just pick up and…” she stopped talking and almost lowered her head.
Neither spoke now and was absolutely quite until John re-emerged.
“God, that grass smells nice. I’m so glad we moved out of the city, have you ever smelt grass like that, Tommy? It’s like real live nature.” John said with wonder in his eyes as he sat back down. He had no idea that currently he didn’t exist for anyone at the table. He continued anyway, “See, real-estate can be almost philanthropic now, helping someone move somewhere like this, it’s really just…charitable. People should be where they belong, where (he laughed) their heart is.”
Marissa stared past her husband and pass Tommy, she stared out the kitchen window and, for just a few brief moments, wondered.
Have you considered Subscribing to all of this madness?
