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“The Bigfoot cover-up.”
“That doesn’t come up as much as you think it does.”
“That’s part of the cover-up.”
Tean hesitated. “If you’ve changed your mind about going back to school—”
“No.” Jem knew it had come out a little too fast. He breathed out. “No. I mean, maybe one day. But not right now. And I promise, I’m fine. I just wanted you to know. I love our life together. I love how I feel when we’re together. How you make me feel. It hit me this weekend, that’s all. Summing up: giant baby.”
Tean made a face at that. But he asked, “And the other part?”
“Hm?”
“You said there were two parts. The baby part, and another part. Or maybe several more parts.”
The light rippled: across Tean’s face, catching the lenses of his glasses, dappling his shoulder, his chest, the thin, wiry frame.
“Ok,” Jem said.
Those bushy eyebrows went up.
“Don’t divorce me. Please.”
“Jem.”
“What you said yesterday—the other day?—about our lives needing to change. I know that’s true. And I’m not trying to excuse what I did, lying to you about DeVoy, or getting myself into that mess, any of it. I know you’re right. But—” He tried to release the pressure gradually; instead, the force behind the words blew them out of him like the spray of a dam breaking. “I’m not different, ok? I’m the same guy you met. I’m the same guy you, um, fell in love with. I guess. If we’re putting labels on it.”
“We’re married. That’s the ultimate label.”
“And I know we have the girls now, and I know I have a job, and I know I’m ancient and quivering and my bones are turning into powder.”
“Why did I let you throw yourself a thirtieth birthday party?” Tean asked. “That’s what I want to know.”
“But I’m still a piece of shit, pardon the language. I lie. I cheat. I steal. I’m good at it. And it’s fun. I mean, I don’t even feel bad about it, not unless I think about how disappointed you’d be. Most of the time, it’s enough to do my job. I find ways to keep myself entertained selling houses, bullshitting people who think they can bullshit me, that kind of thing. But last week, there was this asshole in the Albertsons, and he was screaming at this poor girl about his catering order. So, I lifted his wallet. And I sold his credit card numbers online. And I used the cash in his wallet for those awesome parachute pants.”
The light shifted. Shadows moved across Tean’s face. Like clouds, Jem thought. When you’re looking out over the valley and clouds roll in.
“What if you’d gotten arrested?”
Jem snorted.
“I’m serious. What if you’d gone to jail?”
“This is my point. This is the problem. I’m trying to be better. I’ve tried, really. But this is who I am. And last night, when we were with Heather, it was so…easy. And it was like part of me was awake that’s usually asleep. I’m not doing a good job explaining it. But I know you don’t approve of that stuff. And I know you wish I were different. And I want to be different—for you, for the girls. You’re right; I know you’re right. But I don’t know how to change. I don’t think I can change, not that much. I don’t know if I can be who you want me to be.”
Tean was silent for almost a full minute. Then he lowered himself to the mattress again. His breathing got funny, and he took off the glasses and folded them and wiped his face.
“Tean.”
He scooted over to Jem and rested his head on Jem’s chest.
“I’ll do better,” Jem said. “I promise. I swear to God. I’ll see a therapist or something. I’ll get hypnotized. You can make me do the dishes by snapping your fingers, and if you say the words Bob Sacamano, I’ll bock like a chicken. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying because I want you to do better.” Tean turned into Jem’s chest, drying his face. “Jem, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I feel like that’s a trick question.”
To his surprise—relief—Tean laughed and touched his eyes again. “Ok. Fair.” He was silent again, and the silence was different this time. Calmer. Slower, if that was a thing. Could silence be slow? This one felt peaceful. When Tean spoke again, he had stitched up his voice into something resembling calm. “You’re right, of course. I don’t…like that you do those things. I don’t want to use the word approve because it’s not my place to approve or disapprove. I’m worried about the risk: that someone will catch you, that someone will hurt you, that you’ll be arrested. And yes, there’s still a knee-jerk ethical reaction when I hear about you doing that kind of stuff.”
