A Family Affair(38)

“Everything? What everything?”

“Mainly my personal life,” he said. “We were on this track of moving toward commitment, but it’s just not working for me right now. I have to put the brakes on.”

“Okay,” she said uncertainly. “It’s okay if we don’t make any more plans until you’re feeling more in control.”

“That’s the thing,” he said. “I might not ever feel better.”

“I know you don’t think so right now,” she said. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Michael. There’s no hurry. We have lots of time. Maybe you should talk to someone? A counselor?”

He ignored the suggestion because the last thing he wanted to do was see a counselor. His dad had always been his counselor. “We need to break up,” he said. “Every time I see you or talk to you, I feel bad. Guilty about not giving you the attention you deserve, about not giving our plans any priority because right now I just can’t make plans. I know it’s screwed up. But I don’t want to have plans.”

She looked genuinely confused. “All right,” she said. “So, no plans...”

“I have to break this off, Jenn. It’s not working for me. I think it’s probably my issues but I’m not ready. We need some space. Distance.”

“What kind of distance, Michael?”

“We need to break up, Jenn,” he said again. And then he hung his head.

“Are we talking about a break?” she asked. “Because you said you loved me.”

He shook his head forlornly. “I don’t feel love for anyone right now, including myself. It’s not how I want to feel. I’m just empty of feelings.”

“Except self-pity apparently,” she flung back.

“It’s not self-pity,” he said defensively. “It’s something else. Depression or grief or something. I can’t help it.”

“Have you talked to anyone?” she asked. “A professional? A therapist? What would your dad tell you to do?”

“That’s the thing. When your dad is a counselor, it becomes a personal thing. He’d take me out to the golf range or maybe a field and we’d play with a ball and talk about things, and in a little while everything would be clear. But he’s gone and there isn’t anyone else I want to talk to.”

“How about your mother?” she asked. “I know you’re very close and you respect her opinion.”

“I don’t want to put a burden on her now. She’s going through her own hard time.”

“I bet she wouldn’t consider it a burden,” she said. “You should talk to her about this.”

“I’m sorry, Jenn. I know this isn’t fair to you. I just feel lost. And suffocated. It’s not your fault.”

“We talked about getting married,” she said. “You said you wanted a family.”

“I’m just so confused right now...”

“So if we were married,” she said. “And if you had a son or two and you lost one of your parents, would you just bail? Say, ‘Sorry, Jenn, but you and the kids are on your own because I’m hurting’?”

“That’s why I have to back away right now,” he said. “I’m not sure what I feel. I’m messed up.”

“I’ll say,” she said. “You could talk to me, of course. You said you loved me. You said you thought I was the woman you wanted to be with forever. We’ve talked till late into the night so often, so why can’t we talk now? Is this what happens to you when you hit a rough patch? You quit?”

“It’s not just a patch! I lost my best friend, my dad! I’m not quitting,” he argued. “I’m having trouble feeling! I took a pretty big hit.”

She slowly stood. “I thought I had that job. Best friend.”

“Something went wrong,” he said.

“I’ll say.”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he said.

“Why don’t you think about that for a while,” she said. “Because what you’re doing isn’t going to fix anything.” She picked up her purse. She left the bag of groceries on the counter and the enchiladas in the oven. Her glass of wine was hardly touched. “If you come up with any better solutions, I believe you have my number. You’ve used it almost every day for two years.”

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t you want to eat?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite anymore,” she said.

“But your dish...”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “It’s the least of what I lost today.”

And with that, she turned and let herself out of his apartment.

Michael didn’t move. He felt even worse than before. He felt like the biggest failure. He couldn’t remember a time in his life before now when he had struggled so hard for judgment and good sense. He’d never felt so lost.

Lunch with Bess was always a melancholy affair for Anna. True to form, Bess had a routine, a very rigid schedule. She had sushi every Saturday at four in Oakland near Berkeley where she lived. It was very rare for her to invite a friend or friends as she was very solitary, but now and then there would be a girlfriend or study partner.