Death Before Facebook

every night all by herself and drink and hang with a bunch of hippies and do every kind of drug you can name. Now think about it—what’s the next thing women do when they do drugs?”
    “I guess that depends on the woman.”
    “You know what it is. They’re hangin’ out in a bar with a bunch of lowlifes—you know what they’re doin’. She wouldn’t come home until two or three—she’d leave the kid over at her mother’s—but finally she’d get back and I’d be good and mad.
    “Well, she knew I was going to be good and mad. How could she not know? Same thing happened every time. She’d fight with me a while, then she’d get real seductive. I fell for it the first few thousand times.”
    “Ah. You got off on it too.”
    “Well, now, that’s the thing.” He was talking to her as if she were a man, not embarrassed anymore, simply analyzing what happened. “I didn’t get off on it. The first few times, I was so surprised I just reacted like a piece of meat. Then after a while, I started realizing it was kind of makin’ me mad. I was feeling kind of used, to tell you the truth. And eventually, I didn’t want nothin’ to do with her after we’d been fightin’.” He paused and took a breath, even smiled.
    “Well, that made her mad. I mean, really mad, and I caught on that the other kind of fightin’ was an act and when she didn’t get what she wanted, that was when she got bitchy. See, the way I piece it together, Leighton always gave her what she wanted—got jealous, got into a fight with her, got seduced and had a rare old time. You gotta remember, he wasn’t married to her as long as I was.”
    “How long were you married to her?”
    “Six years. Seemed like sixteen. Anyway, after I caught on to what was happening, I just left her alone. And then that started a whole new deal about why didn’t I care anymore and I must have another woman and all that kind of crap. But I’d had it by then. I just wasn’t falling for all that stompin’ and screamin’ and carrying on anymore.
    “Anyway, by that time I could see I wasn’t going to get what I wanted out of the marriage.”
    “And what was that?”
    “Well, I was crazy about that ’lil ol’ Geoff. What I wanted was a kid.” For the first time he looked sad rather than unpleasantly angry. “But Marguerite just wasn’t interested.” He was quiet for a moment. “You know, sometimes I think I’m kiddin’ myself, that I didn’t marry her out of duty or because she was kind of pretty or anything. I just fell in love with that kid.” There was real pain in his voice.
    “That must have been the hardest part about getting divorced.”
    “Always is, they tell me. The kid. That’s why I stuck with her so long in the first place. In the end, she was the one wanted to get divorced. I guess I kept hopin’ she’d change.” He shrugged. “But both of us met someone within six months or so, got married again, and had a daughter. That always pissed me off, you know? That more than anything. That she had a kid with him when she wouldn’t have one with me. But I tried not to let it bother me; I had to be civil to her to keep up with Geoff. I miss that boy, you know that?” He had tears in his eyes.
    “You still married?”
    “No way. Got me another bitch, second time around. Totally different from Marguerite; I thought if I got an ugly one she’d stay home and take care of me like she was s’posed to. Helen was short, fat, and dumb—and just as mean as Marguerite. That’s it for me, lady. No more of this marriage shit.”
    Skip didn’t reply, more or less struck speechless.
    “But it was worth it. Got me a beautiful daughter that time. You know what? I got a picture right here.” He pulled a worn wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a photo of a teenage girl who’d obviously gotten both parents’ fat genes. But he was right, she was lovely just the same, mostly because of her skin, which was almost translucent, delicately pink.
    “Light of my life. I’m crazy about that kid.” His moony face looked like the sun for a moment. He rested a hand on each knee, a man at ease for a second in the torment he seemed to find life on Earth. He smiled a distant smile, looked fondly at the wall for a bit, and came back, patting his knees to signal his return.
    “Well, I guess that’s it. I just wanted to tell you my brother was the only thing I ever loved except for his son Geoff and my daughter Suby. I wouldn’t hurt