Uncharitable Heart
January, 2002
I hadn’t seen Kurt since the memorial. Needing to know the answer to the question I asked myself when he provoked Leo, I walk up behind him and ask, “Why did you do that, Kurt?”
Turning to look at me, I see that he’s still pretty banged up from the fight…we all are.
“It’s called pride. I’m sure what’s-his-name had the same answer.”
Sigh…What’s-his-name had the exact same answer. Men are impossible.
“Are you okay?”
“Am I okay with what?”
The thing is, I’m not exactly sure. Do I want to know if he’s okay from the fight or okay with the engagement…or both?”
“I don’t know. I just haven’t talked to you since everything happened, and I was…I guess I was worried about you.”
Letting out a slight mocking laugh, “You’re gonna start worrying about me now? Look, Chrissy, just so you’re clear, I got whatever it was out of my system. I could give a shit about your engagement. I only care about Kendall.” Turning away and looking at her through the window, “Our relationship is only about her. Period. From here on out we start operating like real divorced people. Got it?”
The only thing I’m clear about it is that he’s clearly NOT okay. The dude is pissed and I guess he has every right to be. His high school sweetheart, turned wife, cheated on him and divorced him. His re-bound girlfriend dumped him when he wouldn’t marry her, and then his best friend died. He found out his ex-wife is going to marry the guy she cheated on him with and to add salt to the wound, he found it out from the guy himself at his best friend’s memorial. He lost his marbles at the news, destroyed the memorial and his face and now he has to put aside his rage at all of the above because he might be awarded some kind of custody of his dead best friend’s child that he’ll now have to share with his ex-wife and the new husband. Jesus, all of it makes me feel completely awful and wanting to punch something myself.
“Kurt, I’m so sorry for-”
“Good Lord, Chrissy, just stop already.”
Not wanting this get-together with the gang to turn into another WWF event, I recoil from the heated exchange.
“Okay, okay, you’ve been heard. I guess I should get in there to see if Kendall’s having fun.” Feeling more than a little dejected, I walk away to check on Kendall, but not before I turn and say, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re healing nicely.”
“And I’m glad to see you got creative with the birthday party theme.”
This is how Kurt is. He’ll push me to limits with his abrasive honesty and then rescue me from tears with a tiny dose of cynical humor. He never could stay mad at me for long.
Looking into the meditation room, I marvel at my own lack of creativity. “Yeah, hopefully I’ll have more experience with the mother thing before her fifth birthday.”
“I’ll give it to you though…not many kids can say they’ve had a yoga-themed birthday party.”
We’re looking at Kendall’s fourth birthday party though the glass window that separates the meditation room from the lobby. Due to the unfortunate events at the memorial, I decided it would be best to have the party a few weeks late to give everyone a chance to cool off. Joining us for the festivities are, the gang and their kids, Craig’s ancient parents, and Kelly’s now WAY overly medicated mother.
“I guess our first order of business is to get to know all of the kids at the Happy Hearts day care center to avoid a lame party like this from happening again.” Then a thought occurs to me. “But wait…Geez, I guess she won’t be going there anymore. I guess I should look for a pre-school around here, right?”
“Guess we’ll have to see what the attorney says.”
“What do you mean?”
“I dunno…Maybe we should look for a pre-school around my house.”
The new mama bear in me is now unleashed.
“Hold on, first of all we both know Kendall should live with me, and second of all, you don’t even have a house!”
“I’ll have a house in a month, and I’m not so sure it’s best for Kendall to live with you anymore.”
“Kurt…you don’t have to act like this. I didn’t do anything wrong by getting engaged!”
“Chrissy, I don’t have time to list all of the things you’ve done wrong. Excuse me, looks like they need help bringing in the yoga mat cake.” And then he walks away.
“Let him go, hunny.”
I turn to see Slutty Co-worker and Megan in the office. They were so sweet to come in today to help me set up. Now that the whole gang knows I’m now engaged, there’s no need to keep my worlds separated anymore. There aren’t any more secrets…right now.
“What’s his problem? It’s not like I’m the one who punched him.”
“Aren’t you though?”
Looking at Megan like she’s got a lot of nerve for saying that, she’s quick to defend her words. “Chrissy, it’s like the guy can’t catch a break. C’mon, you said it yourself a thousand times, he didn’t deserve what you did to him. Crap, you’ve been begging him to feel something for like fifteen years, let him feel this anger.”
“You know what, you’re right.”
“And you know what YOU’RE right about?” Taking another sip, “This tea you brought in…It’s the bomb! Where the heck did you get it?”
“Kurt bought it in Nepal when he was there for some charity, camping, mountain climbing, first-aid bullshit thing.”
Noticeably more impressed with the charity thing than she is with the tea, Megan sits upright in her chair. “Wow, Nepal. I’ve always wanted to go to a third world country and do something like that.”
I look at Slutty Co-worker, who’s wrapping her lips around a limp balloon like she’s going down on a man, and ask, “What about you?”
She pulls away, “What about me?”
“Would you go to Nepal for charity?”
“What do the men in Nepal look like exactly?”
Frustrated with our uncharitable hearts, Megan chimes in with, “I’m serious you guys. We should do that!”
In unison, Slutty Co-worker and I say, “Do what?”
“We have so much extra fabric in the back room, we could make clothes and send them to poor people! I know Barbara would totally be up for it.”
Before she dives back into her balloon, Slutty says, “No shit, she’d be up for it! She’s one of those Berkeley-giver-people!”
Megan appeals to me to take her seriously. But I annoy her even more when I curiously ask, “Can we make money doing that?”
At my preposterously selfish question, the balloon releases from Slutty’s mouth, flies over our heads and deflates. Laughing her ass off, she mocks, “No Leona Helmsly! That’s why they call it charity!” But, there’s not a trace of a smile on Megan’s over-achieving, catholic college alumni, fashion designer face.
“I’m serious, Chrissy! Would you mind if I talked to Kurt about which charity organization he used for his trip? So many of them can be scams.”
Thinking of how weird that would be, I shake my head, “No way!”
“C’mon, it might cheer him up.”
Staring at him while he swings Kendall around in a circle, my heartstrings get pulled in a million directions.
“I dunno, Megan. It could get weird.”
“Oh, c’mon! Think about the tax right off you’ll get!”
I knew there had to be a perk. As I walk out of the office to re-join the party, I yell out, “His number’s in my rolodex!”
How will we smile ever again
I'm asking you sincerely, my dear old friend
What do you say, is there a way
My dear old friend
How will we laugh just like before
When there's water rising up to our door
And we may never see each other again
My dear old friend
(My Dear Old Friend, Patty Griffin)