Emma Straub - Modern Lovers

“We are,” said Zoe. She looked at Jane, who was sitting to her left. Jane hated therapy — her mother was a therapist and had seen patients in her home office in Massapequa, and it had soured her on the whole thing, all those afternoons when she and her siblings weren’t allowed to watch television because the den was connected to her mother’s office with French doors. But now Jane looked completely happy to be there, even smiling for no particular reason.

“And have you talked about the problems you were having? It’s great to get in a good spot, of course, but I want to make sure that it’s not just a passing mood — have you two spoken about the issues that caused the space in the first place?”

Jane closed her mouth.

“Well, we haven’t really had time,” Zoe said. And they hadn’t — after the fire there was a lot of busywork to be done, and meals to be cooked, and they were two seasons behind on Damages , which they were watching on Netflix. Every day, Zoe thought about having a Talk, but every day she thought better of it.

“We’ve been really busy,” Jane said. “And plus, I don’t know, it feels like it would be a jinx or something. Rock the boat. You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean,” Dr. Amelia said. “You’re afraid to frighten the natives. To muddy the water. To poke the bear.” She tapped her pen cap against her chin.

“Right.” Jane clasped her hands in her lap. “Something like that.”

“Well,” Dr. Amelia said, “why don’t we start now? This is a safe space, remember, and all feelings are valid. Zoe, do you want to start?”

“Okaaaaay,” Zoe said. She crossed her legs one way, then switched. Her hair was in her eyes, and she tucked it back behind her ears. “I guess I feel like things have been going really well, but maybe my fear is that it’s because Jane is maybe afraid of being lonely? And so she’s more interested in me right now than normal? And in a little while it’ll just die down again? And then we’ll be right back where we were?” She covered her eyes. “Don’t kill me,” she said to Jane.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Jane said. “You’re right. I don’t want to be lonely. But the reason I don’t want to be lonely is because I love you. It’s not just that I want to have someone around, I want to have you around.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re really making us do this here?” Jane cleared her throat. “I think we should talk about Elizabeth.”

Zoe was genuinely surprised. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not saying it’s sexual, Zo. But I do think there’s some weird stuff there. Is that a thing, Dr. Amelia, even if it’s not about, like, doing it?”

“Of course,” Dr. Amelia said. “There are all kinds of betrayals — physical, emotional, spiritual. What exactly do you think is going on, Jane?”

“We used to fight about this, years ago. I just think that Zoe has someone else to go to, for whenever she’s upset, or happy, or whatever. I know it’s not as big a deal as it used to be, but still, I think that it’s messing with us. There’s a reason people don’t live close to their parents, you know, or next door to their best friends. It’s weird. People need space. Or at least I need space.”

Zoe scrunched up her mouth. Space was her line.

“What?” Jane said. “Do you really think I’m so off base?”

Dr. Amelia waited expectantly, her toes wiggling with excitement.

“I think that’s completely ridiculous,” Zoe said, and then she tried to slow down and think about whether or not she actually did. She felt herself heat up for an argument, the way matadors probably felt before striding into the bullring. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Jane was a lot like a bull — angry and immovable, sharp and prone to snorting. Zoe knew that it wasn’t only Jane’s fault, though, whatever had happened to them. And maybe she was right. Zoe thought about all the times she’d gone to Elizabeth instead of her wife, for any number of reasons. It hadn’t happened that often recently, except to talk about the house, really, but years ago it had happened all the time. When she and Jane were first together, she and Elizabeth had been inseparable, and Zoe had often started sentences, “Well, I was just telling Elizabeth,” or “Elizabeth just told me…” which was obviously tedious and annoying. She thought about how she would feel if Jane had someone like that, a confidante she really loved, and if that person lived next door. They weren’t in college anymore — they weren’t Jerry Seinfeld and his bachelor(ette) friends, always popping in and out with no notice or reason. They were adults, with families and taxes and mortgages. Zoe had the horrifying realization that her wife might be right. The specifics were all wrong, but Jane was right that Elizabeth had always been there, hovering at the edges, eager to answer the phone.

“I think we should set up a few more appointments,” Zoe said. Dr. Amelia nodded and made a note.

Dave could surf — he was from Southern California, as Andrew had suspected — and Andrew agreed to give it a try. Dave had a friend who rented boards and wet suits a few blocks from the hotel property, and they had everything they needed in fifteen minutes. He recommended a nine-foot foam soft top, and Andrew nodded like he knew what that meant. “We’re gonna get you right up, man,” Dave said.

He’d taken a lesson once before, when he and Elizabeth went to Hawaii for their honeymoon, which was otherwise nothing but reading paperbacks in the sand, stopping every now and then to kiss each other and twirl their rings. More than anything, Andrew had spent his days feeling lucky— lucky that Elizabeth, so light and good, had chosen him , this lump of coal. He was sure from the start that he didn’t deserve her, but he was going to try, and that was how they’d spent their honeymoon — having sex and getting sunburns and walking nowhere, holding hands. Maybe they should go back — maybe Harry could stay at home. He was old enough. Andrew was still upset about the movie, but maybe if he looked deeper into it, he could see what she was trying to do.

They — EVOLVEment, Andrew, Dave, the Waves, whatever they were going to be called — had made an offer on the hotel. There was some due-diligence zoning work to be done, so the process would take a few months. Dave and Phillip were taking care of everything. The first check had gone to the realtor’s escrow account, along with some other money from investors, where it would sit until they signed the contract. In the meantime, Andrew had written a second check, this time straight to Dave, for another fifty thousand. EVOLVEment was growing so fast — they needed money to pay for the teachers and for the equipment, cases of bottles for the kombucha and reams of plastic cups for the juices, and to continue to make improvements to the house — and all of Dave’s capital was earmarked for improvements to the hotel. He’d asked so sheepishly, as if Andrew would object, when EVOLVEment was the clearest and easiest of all his responsibilities.

Together they paddled out into the water. Andrew quickly remembered the feeling from so many years ago, all those dormant muscles in his chest and shoulders suddenly squeaking awake. It was hard to keep the board flat underneath him — he felt like a Weeble Wobble, only with no weight keeping him down. They made it past the break, and Dave gave him a few pointers — not to try to leap up to stand but to sort of drag his feet into place, which sounded easier but wasn’t, not really. Leaping was for people like Dave, whose stomachs were circuit boards of muscles, each tiny piece clicking together with purpose.