“Your mom is a nice person,” he said. “But she’s pedestrian.”
“Pedestrian?” From wherever it was he was talking from John could see his knuckles white on the receiver. “You’ve been married for twenty four years, and suddenly you decide she’s not good enough? You’ve got to trade up?”
“It wasn’t fulfilling me personally anymore, and that’s the way it is. Your mom accepts that this marriage is over. You need to, too.”
He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t think what to say. There weren’t any words in his head.
“Someday, John, you’ll reach the point in your life where you realize that it’s time to shake things up. That you’ve taken on responsibilities that are nothing but burdens. That you’re not getting a good return on your investment.”
“We’re just bad investments to you.”
“You boys are good kids. But life’s not about having kids. It’s not that fulfilling for men. Motherhood may be some kind of biological imperative for women, but men don’t really get anything out of it. You’ll understand that someday.”
“I see.” He was surprised his voice was perfectly even.
“You will. You’ll get it when you’re forty. That’s why I’ve told you to always use a rubber. Don’t get some girl knocked up and get stuck with a burden you can’t get rid of. Lots of girls are after bright young men.”
“Yeah.”
“I expect you know that already, right, John?”
“Oh yeah.” As if. Why was it so freaking cold?
“Listen, you come apologize to Linda. I want you to tell her how sorry you are, and I want you to make it good. And then if she agrees to it, I’ll pay your spring tuition. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer.
His dad chuckled. “Chip off the old block, John. You’ve got a hard nose, just like your old man. You’ll grovel and beg if it will get you the dime. Don’t blame you. It’s smart. It’s always smart to show your neck when you’re the beta dog.”
“When do you want me to come?”
“Day after Christmas? Think you can drive to Sundance? Linda and I are planning Christmas on the slopes.”
“Sure,” John said. The weather might be bad. But he’d have to go anyhow. It couldn’t be that bad. “I’ll see you, Dad.”
“Knock, knock.”
John looked up from where he sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by coursepacks.
Mel stood in the doorway wearing a little black sweater. “You busy?”
“Studying.”
“I see that.” She came in and shut the door behind her, came and sat down on the floor, moving papers around to make room. She held out a package. “I brought you a Christmas present.”
It looked pretty big, wrapped up in red paper with holly leaves on it. “Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band Live, the complete collection? Oh man, I’ve been wanting this so much!” For a moment that was the only thing on his mind, how great the present was. And then… “I didn’t get you anything.”
Mel shrugged. “I figured. You can’t afford it right now, not knowing whether you’ll even be here next semester. Don’t worry about it. I just thought it might cheer you up.”
“It’s great, Mel. It’s just what I wanted and I didn’t think I should get it because… But it’s just what I wanted. There’s some great stuff on here. Really great.”
She smiled and leaned over, turning the LP boxed set. “I thought you’d like the live versions. I know you’ve got a bunch of albums, but this is really complete.” She was sitting right next to him, and when she leaned forward he could see the edge of her bra, the slight rounding of her breasts.
“You’re really great,” he said. John took a deep breath. “You’re kind of my best friend right now.”
She looked thoughtful. “You’re a really good friend too, John.”
“I was wondering…”
“Wondering what?”
His shoulder touched hers, and it was just a turn of the head to kiss her, to feel her all warm and soft and startled. Curious. Assessing.
And then she drew away, a sad expression on her face.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
Mel shut her eyes and when she opened them again he thought he saw tears there. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t know that you… I thought we were just friends and I didn’t mean to make you think that…”
“What’s the matter? Is it somebody else?” She’d never said anything about a boyfriend. Maybe she had a boyfriend back in Arizona. Maybe she was having this long distance thing and she’d just never mentioned it and …
Mel took a deep breath. She looked like he thought he had on the phone with his father. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I won’t hate you,” he said. “I mean, if there’s some guy in Arizona or at another school…”
“I’m only into girls.” Her face was white.
“Oh.” He opened his mouth and shut it again. “But you don’t do lesbian things. I mean I don’t see you hanging around with the student group or taking women’s studies or…” He ran out of things that he thought lesbians might do.
“Because I’m in the Air Force!” Mel shouted at him. “John, do you have no sense? Do you have any idea what would happen if I got caught?”
“You’d lose your scholarship? A dishonorable discharge?”
Mel grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Having to repay four years out of state tuition is least of my worries. Try two years in Fort Leavenworth as a sex offender for crimes against nature. It’s a prison sentence, John. If you actually get caught after commissioning.”
“Then why the hell are you doing this? This is California…” There were a lot of lesbians in California. That kind of went without saying.
“Because I want to be an astronaut. And the way to be an astronaut is through the Air Force. I want to be an astronaut more than anything else in the world, and nothing is going to stop me from getting there.” Her voice was low and intense. “I’m TAC. I’m good. And I’m going to make it.” Mel blinked. “And now I’ve told you. I’ve put it all in your hands. I never tell anybody.”
“I’m not going to tell anybody,” John said.
She looked at him, and there was something familiar in that quirk of her mouth, an expression he’d seen in the mirror. “Good way to get back at me for turning you down.”
“I’d never do that. I’m your friend.”
“Seriously?”
“No, never.” He patted her hand awkwardly. “Never. I promise. I’ll never tell anybody. We’re friends. Friends stick together. There’s got to be something in life you can count on.”