Page 49 of A Straight Line

“What?”

“Sorry. PTSD.” She waved me off. “So? What did Clint do?”

I sighed. “He decided he didn’t love me as much as I loved him.”

“Mmmm.” Bang Bang pursed her lips. “He use those exact words?”

I shrugged. “Yeah.”

“How long did it take him to figure that out?”

“Three years.” I groaned.

“Bastard.” Bang Bang shook her head.

“I know, right?”

“I hope you tossed his ass to the curb, Russy.”

“No,” I said, “I was stupid and tried to make him want to stay. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Hey, now,” She said as she turned away from the mirror to grab my hand, “you’re not an idiot for trying to hold onto something you loved. Maybe a pushover, but not an idiot.”

“Maybe,” I laughed, “but I can’t shake it, Bang Bang. I always grew up thinking that husbands loved wives. And husbands loved husbands. You get the idea.”

She nodded.

“Harry and Vic have always been deeply in love,” I continued, “and my dad always loved my mom. Why didn’t Clint love me? I think I loved him enough.”

Bang Bang stared deeply into my eyes.

“Why was I not good enough?” I asked no one. “I mean, if some guy who stayed with me for three years for—for—whatever reason—couldn’t make himself love me enough, then maybe I’m just not lovable? Maybe every guy will decide I’m not worth loving after they’ve gotten to know me better and wasted years of my life, ya’ know?”

“It’s not you. It’s him.” Bang Bang squeezed my hand. “You know what? Maybe Clint didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s a bastard, but his intentions might have been in the right place. Maybe he thought it would work, and he didn’t want to hurt you by sharing any doubts he had before the moment it all went to hell? He might have meant well, but in the end, he still ended up hurting you. We’ll never know the truth because there’s no point in finding him and asking. But I will tell you one thing—you can’t start feeling better until you realize that one sorry ass man with possibly good intentions isn’t the end of the world. Strike one. Get back up to bat. The next one might be a home run.”

“What if I end up striking out?”

“Well, what the fuck else you gotta do? Sit on the bench and watch everyone else play? If there’s one thing I know about baseball—it’s a lot more fun to play than it is to watch. And I’ve played it in full drag for charity before.”

I laughed. “I wish I’d seen that.”

“It was before you were even born,” She said. “And I’m too old now to be running around in heels. Unless I’m getting paid.”

“So,” I shrugged, “what do I do?”

Bang Bang turned on the stool to look at me, and both of my hands were suddenly in hers as she looked deeply into my eyes.

“You know,” She said, “I never expected to ever be loved. My parents didn’t love me. A boy who liked wigs, makeup, dresses, and show tunes? Forget about it. They’d have rather been shot in the head than accept me. My friends all rejected me. When I met your uncles, I didn’t have a friend in the world left to call my own. We were all in our thirties then. I had been alone for so long. Sometimes, when you least expect it, you find what you need, Russy.”

“Can you call me ‘Russ’?” I found myself asking suddenly.

“Of course,” She said.

“I don’t really like ‘Russy,’” I said.

“You might want to tell a few people.”

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. “I know, right?”