God bless the independent spirit of Maine, where even someone as hard-edged as Pam will think "Sure, take Cayden on an open-ended fishing trip in the middle of May -- he'll learn more with you than he would at school." The teachers sent along some homework, which John has dutifully been working his way through. He wants to be kept busy but is not particularly interested in treating this as a "vacation" -- we've hardly left the Inn, although I've been out for supplies, feeling weird about leaving an 11-year-old boy in a room by himself even for an hour. I saw Dave, briefly -- he and Shane were here the last time I was, but at the time I was pretty focused on what was going on in my room and was a little uncomfortable making contact with other guests.
I was insistent that Cayden and Ed spend Mother's Day with Pam, to John's annoyance. "Do you know how confusing it's been to have to behave as though this stranger is my mother? To let her control me and monitor me this entire time?" Of course I do. But in my opinion, Pamela is a good mom and deserves flowers and appreciation, and we certainly haven't made it an easy year for her.
It's not a long drive to Old Orchard Beach, but we set out early yesterday and made it in time for a diner breakfast. After settling in, we had a lot of time to sit, play cards, and talk about things: where we've been, where we're going, what's next.
"There's a chance this goes wrong," I noted, "It happens, and if so, we'll adjust, but I'm going to make every effort to ensure it's right. We have to sleep every night the way we did the last time we were here."
"As I recall, we were cuddling, with me facing the east window," he said.
"Nothing weird about a boy and his grandfather sharing a bed," I shrugged.
"There's nothing not-weird about this scenario," he laughed. Then after a moment, he asked, "So what ended up happening with Christine?"
Ah, yes. The last time I wrote here, I had heard from Christine. I had thought that we would part ways simply, but as is so often the case in my life, simple is not so simple.
A few weeks ago, we met up for coffee. She was happy to see me, and I her -- to my embarrassment, it was a little like reuniting with an old lover, even though we had never technically been such. Over java, she explained her plight: she had a job offer, her first in a very long time, as a school administrator.
The problem? It was down in New Hampshire. That involves all kinds of moving expenses, money she can't come up with because she hasn't been working.
"I've asked you for so much," she said, a creak of sadness in her voice. "And I don't want anything from you in money, I've taken too much. All I need is for you to co-sign a loan for me."
I didn't like the sound of this. I asked her for the paperwork, which she had brought in her big woven purse. I put on my extra-thick reading glasses and began to scan.
"Christine, you can't do this," I said, almost immediately. The interest rates were what I would call predatory. She told me how much she was going to be making and I quickly deduced she would be paying this loan off until she retired. That's hardly the fresh start she needed.
"Ed, I don't have a choice!" she said, tears now welling up in her eyes. "I need to get out of Maine, I need this job, I have to do whatever it takes to make this work!"
"You ever hear the expression cutting off your nose to spite your face? Well, this is a nose, an eye and an ear. It's borderline usury. Just on this side of it."
"How do you know all this stuff, since when are you a lawyer?"
"I've got layers," I said with a grim smirk.
"Well, what else can I do? And don't say take the money from you, you know Pamela would never--"
"To hell with Pamela," I said. "I've got the money, I don't need it. It's yours, take it in good faith."
"Ed, no," she pled, "At the very least, let me pay it back... with whatever interest you want to charge."
"No, no," I insisted. Us getting into a long-term financial entanglement is the last thing I needed considering I won't be Ed much longer. I wanted to walk away free and clear, and I suppose -- somewhat selfishly -- I wanted to help repair someone's broken life without taking them to the Inn.
We met again a week later. I had the money order drawn up and some paperwork. It's boilerplate stuff basically absolving her of any responsibility to repay. It could theoretically be challenged in court since the signature on the bottom doesn't exactly look like the one on Ed's driver's license (though I tried hard to emulate it) but I took a picture of both of us holding up the contract and smiling to confirm that yes, Ed Levesque was of sound mind and body when he signed this paper, and under no duress.
After that we shared a celebratory beer, and then... gosh. It was like we were a couple of kids. Maybe it was the euphoria of her problems suddenly melting away, maybe it was the imminent goodbye on both of our sides, but we went back to her place and started kissing.
Soon it became a lot more than kissing as we explored each other's bodies in the way we had probably hoped to a few months earlier. If I were a mature and sensible person I would have put a stop to it before we got our clothes off, but it had been a long time since I had been in that position and I had been yearning for it...
Only for it to be stopped by outside forces.
"Ed," she said, reaching down, "I don't mean to offend you, but, um... are you... okay...? Down there...?"
There spirit is willing, but the flesh is... old and tired.
I looked down at my non-responsive Little Ed and sighed. You know, all these months, I hardly ever even thought about it, which was probably a sign about the way things were working down there. I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. Here I was, in bed with a woman I really did want, caught up in the moment, but my body seemed incapable of rising to the occasion.
No matter how much it made sense, no matter how much we probably shouldn't have proceeded, it gnawed at me. In my head, I am still a young-ish, vital person, even if I haven't been a man who has sex with women in years (and if you ask me ex-wife, she might say that that goes back well before our trip to the Inn...) Having that taken from me hurt on a level that most people probably wouldn't get. It's been a long time since my mind and my body were in synch that way, and this was a reminder of how far out of my control it all is, and will continue to be.
"Do you maybe... have a pill?" she asked hopefully. Ed's a fairly recent widower who was still in mourning for his wife, so that was a no.
We laid there in the altogether, hoping that something would happen that simply wasn't going to, before the moment passed. She kissed me goodbye and dressed herself, and we convinced ourselves it was for the best. Christine and Ed was not a thing that needed to happen. Not that Christine is so shallow that that's all she is interested in, but I took it as a sign, one of many, that I am not currently -- and maybe never will be -- the person she needs to fulfill her needs, and that I can lay to rest the idea that I am missing out on some great romance by not being able to spend more time with her.
It would seem that that chapter of my life is closed now... not without sadness or at least bittersweet notes, but it's for the best. Before long I'll be Ryan again -- hopefully -- and then I'll hand his life back and go on to my next adventure.
-Ed
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