530
PARTISAN REVIEW
"Don't be defensive: I'm not accusing you of anything. It's just
that you're not Benny 's father. He doesn 't need your protection ."
"Ross," Evelyn shouts, "why don't you cut it out? Unless you're
jealous of Michael's affections."
"All I 'm saying," Ross continues, choosing his words deliberately,
" is that if he wants a family he should start one of his own. There's no
future for him here."
"I'll put dinner back in the oven," Evelyn says.
"Don't bother," I say. "I think I should be going." My stomach is
so tight I couldn't hold anything down anyway. Evelyn pleads with me
to stay, saying Ross. is upset about something but she doesn't know
what it is . Ross himself seems remorseful, says, "I didn't mean to hurt
your feelings. "
"I didn't ask for your advice, Ross.
If
you didn 't want me here all
you had to do was say so; I was invited to dinner, not a therapy session.
Tell Benny I hope he had a good time. "
When I get outside, the brisk autumn air on my face is like a cool
washcloth for a fever. I close the buttons of my sport coat and walk,
stunned, to the subway. I know, as I stand waiting for the train to take
me out of Manhattan, that I've seen my wife, excuse me, my
ex-wife,
for
the last time. The correction strikes me as funny, as necessary, and I feel
a smile coming to my face. I decide to take in a Mets game, to take my
mind off myself.
In the subway car I think briefly of Benny, wondering if he 'll kiss
Marion, even once on the cheek. But of course he will-this isn 't 1957.
The Benny of the Ivy League shirt, with his talk of Za'ire, is bound to
kiss,
to
be kissed. I close my eyes and feel my body being sucked forward
as the car accelerates: it's an exhilarating experience.
I'm an hour early for the game, so I walk over to Frank 's Bar and
Grill where Thomas is mixing a drink for the woman next to me. He
nods, seems
to
recognize me, though I can't be sure. I order a bourbon
and water, happy to have his attention. "Do you know you once spit on
my father?"
He looks at me strangely and says, "Listen, it's a nice night out:
why don't you go for a walk and cool off?"
''I'm not angry: I'm glad you did it." I sip the drink, motion to
him that it tastes good. "Remember the last game at the Polo
Grounds?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, my father wanted an autograph for me, and you'd had a
tough day: you spit on his program."
