It was a great day, the air full and the tugs booming out on the river, and we chilled, having a nice talk, not an easy thing to do with Nat. He speaks like he's on tape delay, as if what he means to say has to pool somewhere inside him for brief inspection before he lets it go. It can be challenging, even for somebody like me who is accustomed to getting most of the airtime in any conversation.
We both had gone to law school after other stuff and swapped our stories.
'I always thought about becoming a shrink,' he said, 'because I've seen so many of them, but, like since I was little, I've viewed everybody as sort of locked inside their own story of the world, and I was never sure I'd ever really know how someone else felt. Which is kind of why I started grad school in philosophy. But law at least is sort of the story people can agree on.'
I laughed at the description. When I told him how proud his dad seemed of everything he accomplished in law school, he stared as if I'd come off the alien pod.
'Whoever knows what my dad is thinking?' he finally asked. 'He's never said a word to me about any of it-law school, law review, the clerkship-even though I've gone every step of the way in his footsteps. It's like he's afraid if he says something, I might notice.'
I looked into my coffee. 'How is your dad?' I asked.
'Pretty focused on the election. Koll has been pounding away about this guy Harnason who skipped town after my dad gave him bail, and my dad's just beside himself.' He repeated some of the campaign advice his father was getting from Ray Horgan, then stopped himself to ask if I knew Ray. I gave him a long look because I was sure at first he was kidding.
'I work for Ray,' I finally said.
'I'm an idiot.' Nat socked himself in the head. 'I'm surprised you haven't been talking to my dad yourself. He usually stays in touch with his ex-clerks, and he always talked about you like you were the coolest thing since Pop-Tarts.'
'Did he? Really?' Even then I felt my heart surge with the compliment. 'I'm just working so hard I'm basically a hermit.'
That led to a long discussion of being a young associate in a law firm. I told Nat the truth. It's either a very crass deal-you're there to pay off your student loans or put together a down payment-or an act of blind hope, because you think being a lawyer is really interesting, if only you could get to the interesting parts. Which I haven't done yet.
'The big worry,' I said, 'is that while you're figuring that out, you'll get hooked on the money.'
'Like by buying a condo?' he asked with a cute little smile I'd seen a couple times already.
'Right. Or renting a really nice apartment by yourself.'
We laughed at each other, but that was pretty much that. As we headed inside, I asked what else he might do.
'I worked as a sub at Nearing High odd days while I was in law school, and I could go back to it. What I'd really love is to teach law,' he said, 'but you have to publish to get hired anywhere decent. I did a note, but I need more. I was supposed to spend this year writing this off-the-grid law review article about neuroscience and the law, but I broke up with my girlfriend the semester before I graduated, and I'm still so bummed about it I can't concentrate on stuff like that when I come home from work. Maybe I can do it next year while I sub.'
'Sorry about the breakup,' I said.
'Oh, I can totally see how it was for the best, I really can, but the whole process kills me. One day you're in the middle of somebody's life, and the next you're handing back the key, and even her dog won't pee on your foot.'
I laughed pretty hard, even though I was caught up in the melancholy of his observation.
'Been there, done that.' I heaved a sigh. 'Doing, actually.' I didn't quite have the stuff to look him in the eye and moved toward the door.
'I don't usually talk this much,' he said when he got there. 'I must feel like I know you better than I actually do.' I had no idea how to answer a remark so odd, and we stood in silence another second.
When he'd left, my heart was rocking and rolling in my chest. Nat had inevitably dragged his father into my apartment with him. In the time since Rusty and I came to the end, I tried not to think about him much, but when I did, it was with terrible pity for myself-for being so crazy and vulnerable and stupid, for wanting something I so clearly was never really going to have. Dennis, the therapist I see, calls love the only legally accepted form of psychosis. But I guess that's why love is wonderful, as well as dangerous, because it can make you so different. Some of the books I've read say that love in the end is about change. I'm still not sure.
Nat wrote back within two hours to say what I thought was already established, namely, that he would not take the place.
After listening to you, I realized I must be brain-dead to think I could work in a law firm. I will email all the incoming clerks at the Supreme Court who may still be looking and say how awesome your place is and such a steal that whoever rents it should just about get indicted.
I need to apologize a little, since I know I came off as some kind of psycho weirdo half mental patient, babbling about my shrinks, but it was really cool to talk to you, and I was thinking maybe we could even have coffee in a couple of weeks, so I could bounce any new job developments off you.
The other thing is that when I went over the whole conversation in my head, I thought it was kind of a hoot that we each were asking the other one what my dad really thinks. That is SO my dad.
Talk soon.Nat
I read this e-mail over several times, especially the part about having coffee. Is this guy a little into you? I wondered. I worked for half an hour on a response that would hit the right notes.
Nat-
I completely understand. And thanks so much for your help inside the Court. I'll keep my fingers crossed.
And no, you did not come off as some kind of "psycho weirdo." On the DL, I just started doing therapy about a year ago, after a really really bad breakup, and I truly feel sometimes like I was wasting my life up until then. I'm still a little embarrassed about it-both because I need it, and I like it so much. But that's the only time I'm taking for myself these days. I hate making coffee dates because I always end up breaking them. But please send an email now and then and let me know how things are going.
As soon as I hit send, I was drilled by a truth I seldom care to recognize: I'm lonely. I have made so many changes in the last decade, it's been hard to hold tight to friends, especially since most are married now with kids. I'm happy for them, but they've come to terms and aren't interested in putting a lot of stuff under the microscope. You can't sit there pouring your heart out to somebody who isn't going to reciprocate. I have single girlfriends, but nine times out of ten we end up talking about men, which doesn't work right now. In the year-plus I've spent getting over Rusty, I've isolated myself behind a wall of work. Most weekend evenings, it's been TV and Lean Cuisine.
So that was that with Nat until a guy named Micah Corfling contacted me about ten days later. He was going to clerk for Justice Tompkins and had gotten an e-mail from Nat raving about my place and ended up renting it from a few pics I sent. When I wrote Nat to say I owed him, he sent this message back:
FROM: NatchReally1@clearcast.net
TO: AnnaC402@gmail.com
Sent: Friday, 7/25/08 4:20 pm
Cool!!! So if you owe me, how about lunch or something tomorrow? It doesn't have to be anyplace nice, because except for my suits I really don't own any clothes without holes.
FROM: AnnaC402@gmail.com
TO: NatchReally1@clearcast.net
Sent: Friday, 7/25/08 4:34 pm
Sorry, Nat. It's like I told you. Work work work. I'll be in the office all day. Rain check?
FROM: NatchReally1@clearcast.net
TO: AnnaC402@gmail.com
Sent: Friday, 7/25/08 4:40 pm
I have to do a couple things over at the Court. I'll meet you near your building.