speed. He needed to watch TV and go to movies, mindless entertainment that would keep coming at him. No neurons left for hating Charlie, missing Charlie, obsessing over his own health.
After Kurt went to bed, Yale pulled out the scotch again and Cecily brought two glasses from the kitchen, little red ones with white silhouettes of Greek athletes around the sides. He told her, in detail, what had happened. Because he needed to tell someone, and because she wasn’t part of Charlie’s circle, and because, maybe, it was an offering of sorts. Having ruined Cecily’s life, he could at least lay his own ruined life on the table in front of her.
She sat there nodding, nicely horrified at the worst parts. She was a good person. She showed no sign that she was thinking anymore about her own job, her anger, her terrible day. He was developing a theory about Cecily: The hardness of her outer shell was only to protect a very soft core.
Yale said, “I can leave, if you want.”
“Why would I want that?”
“I mean, you have a kid and everything. If I’ve been exposed to— You know.”
Cecily looked affronted. “I don’t imagine you’re going to have sex with my son.” Then, quickly, “That was a joke!”
“I know.”
“I don’t see how else it could be a problem. I’m fairly educated on the matter. I’m not worried about you sharing the orange juice.”
Yale said, “Thank you. I can’t believe you’re being this good to me.”
“Look, I know how I can come off. To get by in my job, as a woman, I have to be a certain way. But I genuinely like you.” She refilled his scotch, and he was glad.
He said, “It’s been a long time since I had a day that just cuts your life in two. Like, this hangnail on my thumb, I had it yesterday. It’s the same hangnail, and I’m a completely different person.”
The scotch was helping him talk. He wasn’t sure why he trusted Cecily, but he did. They’d done nothing but embarrass themselves in front of each other. Well, wasn’t that how fraternities made kids bond? If they puked enough beer on each other, they were tethered for life.
Cecily said, “I’ve had days like that. Nothing this bad, but before-and-after days.” Yale didn’t know what path Cecily’s divorce had taken, but he imagined it was true. “A change of scene is probably good. You’re not around everything that reminds you. You know, if he’d walked out—”
“Right.”
“Then you’re left with all his things.”
Charlie was the one surrounded by Yale’s things. Charlie was sitting on the bed they’d shared, and beside him was Yale’s pillow, and in the closet were Yale’s clothes. But Yale didn’t feel pity, just gratification. Let him be miserable. Let him hate himself as he publishes hypocritical articles about condom distribution. He couldn’t quite get to Let him be sick. Of course he didn’t want that. Maybe he wanted Charlie to suffer before the doctors came back and said it was a false positive. He wanted him to worry for six months until the researchers suddenly announced a cure.
He said to Cecily, “This disease has magnified all our mistakes. Some stupid thing you did when you were nineteen, the one time you weren’t careful. And it turns out that was the most important day of your life. Like, Charlie and I could get past it, if he’d just cheated. I’d probably never find out. Or we’d fight and make up. But instead, an atom bomb went off. There’s no undoing it.”
She said, quietly, “Doesn’t he need you? I mean, when he gets sick, don’t you think that might change things?”
“I could get sick before he does. This thing doesn’t follow a predictable timeline. And if I do, I don’t know that he’s the one I want holding my hand.”
“Fair enough.”
It was something he hadn’t known for sure until he said it aloud.
Cecily said, “You can stay as long as you need. A few days, a few weeks. Kurt could use a male figure around. Lord knows his father isn’t much of one.”
* * *
—
Before bed, he called home. The first five times, there was no answer. The sixth, Teresa picked up. She said, “I’m sure you have much to say, Yale, but unless you’re calling to smooth things over, this isn’t the day.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it is.” But he was slurring his words.
“Today was hard enough already, and he’s asleep.”
He worried that if he waited, his anger wouldn’t be