Insight

“Bro, Orrie! I need to visit your environs for a brief period. My situation is: it’s either become a Canadian citizen this minute or spend six months— or something like that— in the U.S. If I spend the required time in the U.S. (my business is American-based according to what I’ve told them) I can return to Vancouver Island on the same type of visa I have now. You might think I should just commit to Canada, but I have my reasons for postponing.
    “In case you’re wondering, my Seattle connections have timed out— it's personal. Whaddya say? Have I got an invite for a couple of weeks at least? I’ll find another place within that time. I’m not insolvent. Check with your lady. Thanks! — Ted.”

Just when it seemed that “things”— all sorts of things— might stabilize, here comes Theodore! Orville closed the email file and spent a half-minute fuming. This had happened before, just before his wedding to Edwina. Ted had been a lively wedding guest. His gift to the bride and groom had been a fat ounce of homegrown in a baggie, which had briefly been on display on the gift table with a smiley-face tag. Edwina had quickly stuffed it in a box with a lovely casserole dish. They had tried the herb once, weeks later, but the remainder was, to this day, still inside the casserole dish, which they never used. Edwina was a stir-fry gal, and Orville liked take-out.

“I’d LOVE to have another visit from Ted,” said Edwina, weirdly enthusiastic. “We’re just so isolated here!” Orville had never felt isolated. He was, in spirit, always exactly where he was physically. He might be sad, angry, startled, stressed, pleased, curious, or even bored, but it was always connected to the people he knew and cared about, the places he was familiar with, the ideas that came across his horizon in his neighborhood, at his workplace, at home, and, well, through email. Recalling that it was Ted who’d encouraged the vasectomy, and that Edwina KNEW that now, Orville could not understand her cavalier attitude.

“The guest room is being used for storage,” Orville replied.

“I’ll figure something out! He’s your brother!” Edwina was on a roll now. Orville saw that her mental coloring-book collection of ideal family images had not been put away. Orville had always thought it better to understand one’s REAL preferences than to worship conventional concepts. Though he was a follower, not a leader, he CHOSE what to follow. He had followed Ben Stillman into the life he was living now because he had approved of Ben and looked up to him, or did once. With Ted, well, Orville was in awe of Ted, but did not approve.

“Placido! I must tell you, it’s been a wonderful couple of days!” Edwina was meeting with her far-away counselor on the laptop in her closet office, after hours as usual. “I think I’m starting to accept that not everyone has to have children. Anyway, my mother’s not around to be disappointed, as you know.”

“What made you think of your mother?” “Placido” asked, fiddling with “his” beard.

“I think she wanted me to have children, that’s all.”

“Had you talked about that?”

“No. We didn’t talk. We played and laughed. And then she was gone.”

“You still want to please her.”

“I do! But it makes me sad to think about it!”

“That’s my job— to bring out your sadness,” said “Placido” with a smile. Maybe she could keep seeing Edwina, Placida thought. Edwina had some insight, finally. The beard was itching, though.

“Orville’s brother Ted is coming to visit from Canada,” Edwina said. “He’s the one who convinced Orrie to get the vasectomy. I don’t hold that against him. He’s an interesting person. But Orrie isn’t happy about it. We’re divided about that. Is that OK?”

“Considering that you two finally talked, and then had sex, I think that’s perfectly OK. You’re not required to mirror each other. We’ve talked about that,” intoned “Placido” wearily. What was stopping her from dramatically pulling off her disguise and telling Edwina the truth? Fear of a lawsuit, she supposed. They concluded the session. Placida shut down her computer, pulled aside the silvery curtains, and stared out her window. New Haven lights twinkled and blinked. People were out there having fun. She’d missed the last AA meeting. She craved company. Maybe she’d go to a bar.

— Macoff