The Saving Graces by Patricia Gaffney Read Free Book Online Page B

catchall word that Eric, of all people, appreciates.
"But he was against it at first, wasn't he?" "Oh Had I admitted that to him? It seemed disloyal now. "Maybe a little, but only in the beginning.
And he never came out and said so, not in words. It's just that he's so busy." "So . . .
"So, he likes me to be there when he gets home." Curtis is a legislative aide to Congressman Wingert; his days start at six and go until eight, nine, sometimes ten at night. He says, "I spend all day talking to assholes, Rudy, and when I come home I'd like you to be there." (I don't think this is unreasonable.) "I need to spend time with you," he says, "just the two of us. I need it, I don't just want it. You keep me in sync." Imagine me maintaining anybody's equilibrium.
Eric said, "So . . . he didn't want you to join the group because it would-what? Take you out of the house too much?" "No, that's not it. Nothing so-I don't know, what would you call it?" He shrugged, but I knew what he was thinking: passive-aggressive.
Once I made the mistake of telling Eric about how Curtis enjoys warning me that biology is destiny. The biological imperative. Curtis says the strain of psychosis in my family runs so strong, it's probably congenital. Naturally Eric took offense at that. That's the last thing a psychiatrist wants to hear. (It's the last thing I want to hear, too, but I can't escape it. If Curtis isn't reminding me, I'm reminding myself.) The "heredity connection" goes against everything Eric believes in. He even questioned Curtis's motive in suggesting it.
But in the dark times, it makes perfect sense to me, and then Curtis is my comforter and my solace. He folds me in his arms and Swears he'll protect me, and as long as he holds me like that I know I'm safe. I'm safe.
Eric says I take care of Curtis too much, but he doesn't understand. If anything, it's the other way around.
"And how do the other three Saving Graces feel about Curtis?" Eric asked after a couple of silent minutes.
"Oh, they don't talk about him much. That's not really what the group is, Eric. I mean, it's not like we sit around talking about men all the time." He made a patient face. Eric usually knows, although not always, when I'm hedging.
"Okay, we do talk about Curtis some. Obviously. Away from the group, I probably talk most to Isabel about him." "Really? Not Emma?" "No, not Emma. No. Actually.. ." This memory is so painful, I try never to think about it. "Emma and I the worst fight we ever had was over Curtis. Years ago. So now we just leave him out. Pretty much. Pleasantries-how's Curtis, fine, tell him I said hi-that's about it." "You never told me this. A fight with Emma? When did it happen?" I didn't want to tell him now. "A long time ago. I still think most of it was her fault:' "Why?" "Because she waited until the eve of my wedding, I mean literally, the night before, to tell me what she really thinks of Curtis. I've forgiven her-well, there's nothing to forgive. But it's hard to forget." "Well, tell me." "It's really old news, Eric." "I know, but I'm interested." - "Why?" "Because. Come on, tell me." I sighed, and told him.
It was four years ago, five in December. Curtis and I had been living together for years, forever, but on the night before the wedding he moved out, just for fun, and Emma came over to stay with me. She was maid of honor, and she was taking the job seriously, being very solicitous and practical and take-charge. Which was good, because I needed taking care of. My mother and stepfather had flown down from Rhode Island that day, my brother from L.A. that night, and my sister had a one-day pass from the cult and was due in the next morning. It was going to be the first time we'd all been together, all of us in one place, in about twenty-five years. Since my father's funeral.
So there was that, plus Curtis's parents who had come up from Georgia two days earlier and were staying at the Willard. I can never decide whose family makes me crazier, his or