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I Am Jack's Valentine

(A story in split perspectives)

Tyler's got candles all over the place. It's almost cozy. Not like Little House on the Prairie. But the sort of thing where, if you didn't know him, you might think he was romantic.

But instead of cozy, I see failure to pay electrical bills. No lights, no heat, just candles. So maybe not that far from Little House on the Prairie.

The little heart I arranged with the candles looks tacky and pathetic, so maybe Tyler won't hate it. He's sleeping with me, after all.

~:~:~:~:~

I walk into the living room. I cough the smell of cheap incense out of my lungs. The only light comes from candles, arranged like something from daytime television. Tacky and pathetic.

And then I see Marla, and it makes sense.

Marla's sprawled out on the sofa. Smirking like she thinks she's Aphrodite.

Not wearing any clothes.

I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

~:~:~:~:~

"What are you doing here?"

I sit up and glare at Tyler.

"It's Valentine's Day?" I say.

He stares at me, with his mouth slightly open. Either he's wondering why I'm still in my underwear, or he doesn't get the Valentine's Day thing.

"Valentine's Day?" he repeats.

"Yeah. You know. Cards, candy, sex. Naked babies?"

~:~:~:~:~

Marla lights a cigarette.

"Don't they have places for people like you?"

"Places?"

"Clinics, Safe Houses, Institutions? Somewhere you can be besides here?"

I don't suggest support groups.

Standing in her sex-crime-victim underwear, hip popped and eyebrow raised, blowing smoke into my face as the cigarette dangles from her fingers, Marla is the lost cause of Emily Post.

"It's Valentine's Day," she repeats.

I try not to look at her tiny little body as she saunters over to me. Without her pumps she stands just below my chin. I can smell the smoke in her hair as she nuzzles my collarbone.

"Cupid, love, yeah I get it. I thought that was for people with hearts," I say.

"Guess you won't be celebrating either."

~:~:~:~:~

Tyler rolls his eyes at me like the dumb teenage girl he is when we fight.

"Now that you mention it, I've got somewhere to be," Tyler lies.

"Hot date?" I tease, drawing my cigarette closer to my mouth.

Tyler looks confused. A continual scowl of confusion.

Finally he seems to get that I'm pressed against him.

"Ok, I get that you're in my living room. But why are you in your underwear?"

~:~:~:~:~

Marla blinks.

She gives one of her stupid half-laughs. "Thought I'd make it easier for you."

She's grinning again.

I don't even bother to make an excuse as I leave the room.

Tyler's standing in the kitchen, holding onto the edge of the sink as he laughs.

"What's she doing here?"

Tyler laughs at me the way Marla laughs at me. Flicking his cigarette butt in my direction, Tyler walks into the living room. I am the outsider of some sick inside joke.

~:~:~:~:~

Tyler walks back into the room. He doesn't say a single word before pinning me to the sofa.

Who said chivalry's dead?

~:~:~:~:~

I sit in the kitchen. Tyler's laughing, and Marla's making cat noises.

By now I'm immune to the sounds of Tyler and Marla. But there's something about Tyler spending an evening with a woman on Valentine's Day night that screams conformity.

If Marla's going to make Tyler a hypocrite, she's not going to do it on Paper Street.

I walk into the room.

~:~:~:~:~

I unbuckle Tyler's belt, and my fingers are on his zipper when he asks, "What do you think you're doing?"
I laugh. Tyler's such a funny boy.

~:~:~:~:~

Marla stares up at me, that stupid grin on her face again.

To my question, she replies, "You."

~:~:~:~:~

Tyler walks out of the room again, without explanation, again. He's never been one for explanation. And I must be the idiot for asking the questions. Like something's not going on when he looks like the punch line to what's black and white and red all over.

~:~:~:~

"Are you crazy- keeping her around here?" I yell at Tyler.

I don't ask how he's suddenly in the kitchen. I don't ask why Marla jumped me.

"She keeps coming back. I think she likes us."

Tyler laughs at his own joke.

He points a finger at me. "Flowers," he says.

"What?"

"Give her some flowers and throw her out."

"You give her flowers; she's your…" I can't decide what Marla is. But succubus comes to mind. Where am I supposed to find flowers? "Marla doesn't want flowers."

"You don't want Marla. This way you both have what you don't want."

~:~:~:~

I dangle off the edge of the sofa. Blood must be rushing to my head or something, because my nose feels heavy.

I wonder what the boys at Testicular Cancer do for fun on Valentine's Day.

Waiting for Tyler, as he talks to himself- it's got to beat this.

~:~:~:~

"Roses are red, violets are blue. Marla's a walking case of chlamydia. Get her out of our house."

Tyler laughs, slaps me on the shoulder.

"Hey, clever boy, you found her. You lose her."

~:~:~:~

I wonder if I'm the only woman with Testicular Cancer.

~:~:~:~

Marla's hanging off the sofa, humming to herself when I walk into the living room.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I say, tossing the heart-shaped box of chocolates on the pile of Marla's clothes. "Happy? Now get out of here."

Chloe gave me the chocolates. Somehow, the thought of Chloe naked and lonely tonight makes me never want to each chocolate again.

~:~:~:~

I stare at the nutcase, my nutcase, then snatch the box. Opening it, I find that Tyler's eaten half of them. He's always been so sweet.

"You could have saved some for my mother," I say.

He doesn't get the joke. He's hopeless.

~:~:~

Marla flounces out of the room like she's got some better place to be, but I know I'll see her later at Testicular Cancer. I hear her slam the door.

Making the lives of miserable men more miserable is her specialty.

~:~:~:~

Tyler glares at me as I walk back into the room.

"I thought I told you to leave," he says.

"Yeah, yeah, we're all leaving."

I grab my clothes and try to leave again.