Jack appeared in Jonah's living room on Sunday afternoon. “I was
listening to the game on the drive over,” he said.
“We are so hosed.”
“Yeah.”
“Got any beer?”
“In the fridge.”
Jack went into the kitchen. When he returned he was carrying a beer in
one hand, and the bag of Doritos Jonah had just bought in his other. He opened the bag and set it on the table, so
that it was within easy reaching distance of Jonah’s chair. “This flavor is pretty good,” Jack said,
crunching hard on a chip. “Cool Ranch,
huh? I’ve never tried it before.”
“It’s been out for a while now.”
“No kidding? Guess I’m clueless when it comes to
new trends in snack products.”
“There are worse things to be clueless
about.”
“Yeah, like stats. My fantasy football team is getting crushed
this year. I just haven’t had time to
keep up, you know?”
“My team is hopeless, too. I’m in last place at work.”
“Your team is always hopeless,” Jack
answered, grinning. “But that reminds
me—you wanna go bowling this Saturday night?”
“I thought Kelly didn’t like you to go out
on weekend nights.”
“Oh.
Yeah. Well, she filed for divorce.”
Jonah tore his eye away from the T.V. “She did?”
“Yeah.
Yesterday. She said she never
meant staying with her sister to be just a temporary thing—she was only
waiting to make things official until Mom died.” Frowning to himself, Jack grabbed another handful of chips. “She said I wasn’t ‘emotionally available,’
or some bull shit like that, but I don’t know what she’s talking about. I was home every single night, just about,
and, I mean, I wasn’t going to give up poker night. It was only once a month, for christ’s sake.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’ll find someone else. You always do, right?”
“Not
this time. That’s it for me. I give up.
Three strikes and you’re out. I
know I wasn’t married to Sheila, but close enough. I’ll never understand women. They could be locked up in a room and studied
for a thousand years by the world’s leading scientists and we still would never
understand them.”
“I don’t know." Thinking of Deb and her dejected, pinched face, Jonah said, "I don’t think they’re all that different from
us.”
“Maybe not,” Jack answered, and suddenly he
sounded very, very tired. “But if that’s
true, it means we just aren’t marriage material. You and me, I mean.” Jack shot Jonah an uncomfortable glance
before he took a swig of his beer and pointed at the T.V. “Look at that moron—a loss of two yards, when
there was a huge hole right up the middle.
The Heisman curse strikes again.”
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