Chapter 2: Veronica
"What brings you home, Ben?" my brother asked as he handed me the second beer. It had been opened.
This was the part I had been dreading most. Where to begin? Should I start with the sad news that I was out of work, warn him that I had four credit card companies on my tail or should I appeal to his sympathy and tell him I had broken up with my girlfriend?
I took a long swig of beer, stalling.
Seeing that I was still pondering his questions, Ed struck again. "Any marriage plans on the horizon? What's your girl's name?"
"Veronica," I said.
"Oh yes, Veronica, sexy name. Sexy woman, too, from the looks of her in the picture you sent."
"Veronica left me. I'm out of work, too."
"Oh," he said, contemplatively. "Did losing your job have anything to do with her taking off or was her leaving inevitable?"
"Both, losing my job and it was inevitable," I said, looking at my brother, admiringly. He had a knack for getting right to the heart of the issue. Next, I predicted, he'd ask how bad it really was.
"How bad is it?"
Saved by the bell, a car horn interrupted his cross examination. "Aw, there's my sweetie now," Ed said, rushing to the side door without inviting me to go along to greet Jen.
He called her 'his sweetie', I thought, watching him open the car door for her. Jen got out, looking more stunning than I remembered. Her hair was shorter, controllable; not flying in all directions like it did when we were a couple. They kissed and she looked up at the porch as they hugged. Her face was next to his, but her green eyes were directed at me. She lifted her head from his shoulder and scrunched her lips, the lips I knew so well, into the familiar half-pucker, half-pout. I felt a tingle in the pit of my chest.
At that moment I loathed them both for the same reason; they had ruined my life. I loathed my brother for stealing my girl and I loathed Jen for not waiting. I loathed myself too, for making the two worst decisions of my life.
Their letters arrived in mid-November, nearly four years ago. They wrote, almost word-for-word, 'it just happened.' Hell, they could have used one envelope and saved a stamp. I stayed in my dorm room for a week, brooding.
I didn't come home that Thanksgiving and completely ignored their wedding announcement the following spring. Ed continued to send checks for my tuition until he discovered I wasn't cashing them. I took out student loans and used the harvest money to pay for incidentals. When it was gone I got my first credit card. I needed money because I had met a girl.
Looking at Ed and Jen walk hand-in-hand toward the house, with the six new homes in the background, I stood up and, feeling my heart beat rapidly, tired to make myself presentable.
Jen handed the bag of groceries to her husband and came to me. We embraced, both talking nonsense about how long it had been. She pulled away, smiled nervously and excused herself, disappearing into the kitchen, leaving me reeling.
I can't do this, I thought. She feels the same, smells the same and looks the same as four years ago. But where could I go? I had no prospects and a reputation to mend.
Ed must have warned Jen not to pry about my life. The conversation at dinner was guarded. I praised Jen on the meal, avoiding remarks of a personal nature. Ed informed me that Jen kept the company books. "We've converted the guest room into a home office. That's why we had to give you our old room," he explained. I politely told them the old room would serve my needs, avoiding the mention that I wouldn't be here long.
I didn't offer to help with the dishes because I knew being near her would be torturous. I watched television with Ed until Jen joined us and then excused myself, saying I needed to unpack my bags. But after finding a place to store the casual stuff from the small bag, I left the other bag containing my work clothes, suits, shoes and ties, packed.
I got into the upper bunk that I had occupied so long ago and found I couldn't sleep.
Seeing them at dinner had been excruciatingly painful. The little winks and nods looked put-on. Were they really that happy? I lay awake listening, first to the printer spitting out financial statements in the next room, followed by my brother and sister-in-law taking turns using the only bathroom on the second floor. Even after they went to bed I listened for sounds coming from their room. Were they making love, or just talking? Making love was what Jen called it. Did she ask my brother to make love to her or did she say, "Fuck me?"
Amy, the farm girl, was no help on this night. Not daring to think of Jen, I let Veronica invade my mind.
We met at a New Year's party. She was unlike any girl I had known before, not that there had been that many. Veronica knew I was on the rebound. We took long walks and told each other everything about ourselves, or so I believed at the time. She was very sympathetic and as I eventually discovered, she was also cunning.
