Ethan says, “Well, Darcy insisted that she didn’t care, but she was giddy at our ultrasound. I think she was feeling a bit outnumbered at home And I secretly wanted a girl, too.”
“Well, that’s really good news,” I say, thinking that I can be happy for someone when the news of conception is normal, straightforward, and unfettered by drama and controversy. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” he says. “So, what about you? How are you doing?”
Ethan knows about my divorce. I recently gave him the abbreviated version (“I don’t want a baby; he does”) of why we split.
So I say, “Oh, I’m fine Just keeping busy you know.” I consider telling him that I was briefly dating someone, but reconsider when I remember that Richard has done some work on his books. Incidentally, other than a couple of e-mails, I’ve yet to talk to Richard since our return. I’m starting to wonder if he came to the same conclusion about us.
Ethan hesitates and then asks, “Have you talked to your ex at all?”
The question shouldn’t catch me off guard, Ethan is candid that way. But it does, so I find myself blurting out the latest on Tucker and the marathon. I tell the story with a self-deprecating, humorous bent, but Ethan’s face stays serious. When I finish, he says, “So how do you feel about all that?”
I shrug, trying to brush it off. “The doctor-jock combo is certainly annoying,” I say with a smile.
“So just the standard post-break-up pang?” he asks.
“More or less.”
“But you don’t want him back, do you?”
I think of my talk with Jess at Temple Bar. Then I think of the reason Ben and I broke upand how nothing has changed since then. I think that I certainly know what the answer should be. But I still shock myself when I say, “Well, yeah. Sure I want him back. In theory.”
“So go get him back, then,” Ethan says matter-of-factly.
“I can’t, I say.”
“Sure you can.”
“It’s too late. He has a girlfriend. And, you know, there’s the whole baby issue.”
“Both are surmountable obstacles.”
“Not really I mean, who knows about Tucker? But the baby issue certainly isn’t surmountable.”
“Yes it is.”
I look at Ethan, processing what he is saying. He is, more or less, telling me to have a baby to get Ben back. It is just about the worst advice I’ve ever heard, akin to Jess’s dishonest attempt at entrapping Trey.
I shake my head and say, “I can’t have a baby just to get Ben back.”
“Well, then,” he says slowly. “I guess he’s not your soul mate So that should be a consolation when you’re looking up their future marathon results.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, feeling oddly defensive. As much as I want to feel okay about Ben in the present, I don’t like the implication that what we had wasn’t, at one time, the real thing.
“Well, because,” Ethan says, “you’d do anything to get a soul mate back, right? I mean, that’s the nature of soul mates. You know, Romeo and Juliet swallowed poison to be together So if Ben were really the one for you, don’t you think you’d go ahead and have his baby?”
* * *
twenty-four
I don’t think Ethan intended to make a profound or lofty statement. Nor do I think he was trying to offer any relationship counsel. Rather he seemed simply to be throwing out his offhanded two cents about the nature of true love. Essentially, he was just saying what we’ve all heard a million times love conquers all .
So I’m not really sure why his words affected me. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t giving me preachy advice. Maybe it was the parallel to his book, the recognition of art imitating life imitating art. Maybe it was the clarity of hearing something from a relatively random messenger, a player un-invested in your life, someone outside your inner circle.
All I know for sure is that Ethan’s words cut straight to my heart and made me see my relationship with Ben in the least complicated, most stripped-down terms. I saw the bare essence of our breakup. The hard truth of the matter. I realized, almost in an instant, that I no longer bought all the propaganda about relationships ending because of bad timing and incompatibility and outside influences, like wanting or not wanting a baby. A baby is huge it doesn’t get much bigger than that, but so is religion and age and geography and being married to other people and feuding houses and so many other seemingly insurmountable factors that couples encounter and defeat when love is true.
So, right there in my office, I decide that as simplistic and naive as it may sound, I do believe that true love conquers all. Therefore, one of two things must also be true: either my relationship with Ben was not what I believed it to be, or our breakup was a big, horrible mistake.
It has to be one or the other.
I know where I’m coming out in the matter. I only hope Ben feels the same way.
Later that afternoon I call Daphne and ask her if I can come and spend the night.
“Sure!” she says. “Tony’s going out with the guys, so it’s perfect timing.”
“Don’t cook,” I say. “We’ll order a pizza, okay?”