The Silver Linings Playbook(73)
We stand like this for what seems like an hour, neither of us saying anything.
My face gets very cold, until I can no longer feel my nose or ears.
Finally, without looking at Tiffany, I say, “Why didn’t you come to my birthday party?” which is a stupid question to pose at this time, I realize, but I can’t think of anything else to say, especially since I haven’t seen Tiffany for many weeks—not since I screamed at her on Christmas Day. “My mom said she invited you. So why didn’t you come?”
After a long pause, Tiffany says, “Well, like I said in my letter, your brother threatened to kill me if I made contact with you. Also, Ronnie came to my house the day before your party and forbade me to go. He said they never should have introduced us in the first place.”
I had already talked to Jake about his threat, but I have a hard time imagining Ronnie saying such a thing to Tiffany. And yet I know Tiffany is telling the truth. She seems really hurt and vulnerable right now, especially because she is sort of chewing on her bottom lip as if it were a piece of gum. Surely Ronnie said these words against Veronica’s wishes. His wife would never let him say something so potentially ego-damaging to Tiffany, and the thought of Ronnie keeping Tiffany from attending my party makes me a little proud of my best friend, especially since he went against his wife’s wishes to protect me.
“Bros B4 Hos” is what Danny said to me every time I would lament Nikki, back when we were both in the bad place—before he had that second operation. In art therapy class, Danny even made me a little poster with the words written in stylish gold letters, which I hung on the wall space between my bed and my roommate Jackie’s—back in the bad place—but one of the evil nurses took Danny’s artwork down when I was not in the room, a fact Jackie confirmed by blinking and banging his head against his shoulder. Even though I realize the phrase is sort of sexist (because men should not refer to women as hos), saying “Bros B4 Hos” in my mind now sort of makes me smile, especially since Ronnie is my best bro in New Jersey, now that Jake and Danny live in PA.
“I’m sorry, Pat. Is that what you want to hear? Well, I’ll say it again, I’m really, really f*cking sorry.” Even though Tiffany uses the f-word, her voice sort of quivers like Mom’s when she says something she truly means, and it makes me think that Tiffany might actually start crying right here on the bridge. “I’m a screwed-up person who no longer knows how to communicate with the people I love. But I meant everything I told you in my letter. If I were your Nikki, I would have come back to you on Christmas Day, but I’m not Nikki. I know. And I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what to say in response, so we stand there for many minutes, saying nothing.
Suddenly—for some crazy reason—I want to tell Tiffany the ending of the movie, the one that was my old life. I figure she should know the ending, especially since she had a starring role. And then the words are spilling out of me.
“I decided to confront Nikki, just to let her know I remember what happened between us but do not hold any grudges. My brother drove me to my old house in Maryland, and it turns out that Nikki is still living there, which I thought was sort of strange, especially since she has a new me—this guy Phillip who works with Nikki as a fellow English teacher and always used to call me an illiterate buffoon because I never used to read literary books,” I say, leaving out the part about my strangling and punching naked Phillip when I caught him in the shower with Nikki, “and if I were Phillip, I probably would not want to live in my wife’s ex-husband’s house, because that is just sort of weird, right?”
Tiffany doesn’t say anything when I pause, so I just keep on talking.
“When we drove down my old street, it was snowing, which is a little more rare in Maryland and therefore a big deal to little kids. There was only maybe a half inch on the ground—a dusting—but enough to scoop up in your hands. I saw Nikki outside with Phillip, and they were playing with two children—by the colors each was dressed in, I figured the one in navy blue was a little boy and the one mostly in peach was an even littler girl. After we rolled by, I told Jake to circle the block and park the car half a block away so we could watch Nikki’s new family play in the snow. My old house is on a busy street, so we weren’t likely to draw Nikki’s attention. Jake did as I asked and then killed the engine but left the windshield wipers on so he could see. I rolled down my window, as I was in the backseat because of my cast, and we watched the family play for a long time—so long that Jake finally started the car back up and turned on the heat because he was too cold. Nikki was wearing the long green-and-white-striped scarf I used to wear to Eagles games, a brown barn coat, and red mittens. Her strawberry blond hair hung freely from under her green hat, so many curls. They were having a snowball fight; Nikki’s new family was having a beautiful snowball fight. You could tell the kids loved their father and mother, and the father loved the mother, and the mother loved the father, and the parents loved the children—as they all tossed the snow at each other so lovingly, taking turns chasing each other, laughing and falling into one another’s heavily bundled bodies, and …”
I pause here because I am having trouble getting the words out of my throat.
“And I squinted hard trying to see Nikki’s face, and even from a block away I could tell she was smiling the whole time and was so very happy, and somehow that was enough for me to officially end apart time and roll the credits of my movie without even confronting Nikki, so I just asked Jake to drive me back to New Jersey, which he did, because he is probably the best brother in the entire world. So I guess I just want Nikki to be happy, even if her happy life doesn’t include me, because I had my chance and I wasn’t a very good husband and Nikki was a great wife, and …”