Worth was shaking his head. He’d stopped eating and was looking at me with amazement. “Have I ever told you how you blow me away with your head?” he asked. “You have made more sense in the last half hour than all those years in ‘shrink school,’ as you call it.”
I sat back in my chair, beaming. I felt so much better for having said all that. The fact that Worth had let me say it, and hadn’t interrupted or argued or minimalized my thoughts was the most gratifying, loving thing he could have ever done for me. “Thank you for letting me say that,” I said. It was important to me to acknowledge the gift he’d given me.
“I’m not demonizing them, but if you’ll permit the example, Worth. Look at Joe’s. When you go in there, it’s not because their drinks are particularly appetizing or volatile; they’re the same as you can get at any bar downtown. You go to Joe’s because of the fellowship. You like the idea of sitting among people who do unconscionable things and then sit together and justify it. Not only justify it but perpetuate it. Helping one another with tips and stories and back-slapping cooperation where you have the advantage because there is a fix in. Those men think they’re real men, when in truth they’re the furthest thing from it. They’re cowards, hanging together in a herd mentality that permits them to be disreputable. They have their own code. You can’t go in there and brag about being decent, can you, Worth?”
He shook his head and thought about it. “Now that you mention it, not exactly.”
“No, of course not. Most of what goes on in there is illegal and it’s only because the people in there have money and have bought off the right politicians that you get away with it. Do you leave there feeling proud? Feeling as though you’ve accomplished something credible? No. You leave feeling fulfilled, but it’s a fulfillment of having beaten the system that applies to all those other poor slobs out there who don’t have the money or the lineage to get things done. You figure they work for you, but they certainly aren’t examples of who you want to be. So you would leave a den of thieves feeling more justified than if you went down and packed groceries for survival. It’s not a fair system, Worth. It’s an elitist system. I know I don’t want it anymore, and I don’t want to raise our son to want it, either. What have we done? We’ve shipped him off to live in the den of the very people I don’t want anything to do with.”
“Auggie, I’ve let you have your say, now let me have mine.” His face was intent and I owed him the same liberties as I’d taken. I nodded to go ahead.
“As idealistically wonderful as what you’re saying sounds, this is an imperfect world and there are no guarantees for anyone. Not those of us with money, and not those who will never have a penny left over. We are all victims of one kind or another. Did all our money stop the Linc disaster? No. Would not having money have stopped it? No. It’s because we are imperfect, just as you say. The world is nothing more than a collection of the same kind of people. Fate gets us all in the end, as they say. It’s how you ride the wave that separates us. I want to be happy. Hell, we all want to be happy. Money may not make me happy, but I can damned sure guarantee you that poverty will make me far more miserable.”
I sat back and processed what he was saying. “So, you think I was happy at the condo, not because I stumbled upon an individual reality, but because it was simply different?
“Not exactly, but yes, sort of. You’re high on the feeling that you can chuck everything and everyone to the side of the road. That felt good. Want to talk reality? Was it honorable to leave me and to leave your son? To not want to see people who cared about you and had your back? How do you think that felt to me, Auggie?”
My mouth gaped. He was so right. I had thrown away the world, gone underground and loved it; never giving a moment’s thought to how it affected others. That was so, so wrong. I had abandoned my family, myself.
He went on. “I get it that Joe’s is not the role model for a life with integrity. Don’t you think I know that? But what are the alternatives? Shall I go down the street to O’Charlie’s and sit with the rest of the wannabees? Listen to their tales of being stepped on and overlooked for promotions they believe they deserved? On what basis? On the basis of having shown up for work most often? That’s not integrity, Auggie. That’s the system. They have theirs, we have ours. Ours has been around longer and has more money. Theirs? There are just more of them. Do you think if I stepped into O’Charlie’s and held up a check for a million dollars and said it goes to the first person who’s willing to leave his wife at home alone five nights a week — do you think there wouldn’t be any takers? Of course there would. There always will be. In some crazy ass way of thinking, they are happier because we are who we are. We are the role model for who they think they want to be. That makes us their incentive. Their incentive to show up to work, to get an education, to have a savings account for a bigger house. We provide a billboard for what they think they want. We are the excuse they give to themselves for not having money. They criticize us, deride us, even hate us; but they still admire us. It’s how they’re raised. Do you really believe that knowing that, you would be happier among them? Because that’s what you’re suggesting, Auggie. You’re suggesting that we give up our way of life in order to embrace theirs, which includes wanting to become just like us. See the insanity of it?”
I felt alive for the first time. I was being challenged to think in a way that had never happened before. Sure, I was educated — which was simply another word for being trained. What Worth was giving me, however, was mental stimulation and I was eating it up. My brain was swimming with new thoughts, new ideas, new perspectives. I absolutely loved it and it was erotic as hell!
“I’m sorry for leaving you, Worth,” I said in a humble voice.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You left me the first time willingly. You left me this last time because it was part of the necessary healing process. The next time you leave me, it will be because I’ve driven you away. I don’t want that to ever happen, Auggie. If you take nothing more than this from all you’ve just said, realize that I acknowledge I was wrong to leave you out. You’re an intelligent and honorable woman and I’m very, very proud to have you as my wife. I shouldn’t have left you behind. I should have pulled you closer, connected you to my hip. The problem with that is you begin to use my values as your own and while that may result in fewer arguments, it also takes away from the added perspective you bring to me, to us.”