Forever Hold Your Peace
He decides to grow a beard. A real, long, fuzzy beard. Like the ZZ Top. He knows he will look good in beard. Like an Italian George Clooney. Or a darker Johnny Depp, or Brad Pitt. Yes, he should grow a beard. It will distract people from the sorrow in his eyes. It will prevent them from asking hurtful, embarrassing questions. It will help them ignore the growing bald spot on the top of his head. Sometimes, when he lies all alone in his bed, he thinks of Emily. Sometimes, when he chews and swallows a piece of pancake, he thinks of Stephanie. Why is he still single? What's wrong with women these day? He's a faithful man and he holds on to traditional values. We each have our roles to play. He is the alpha male. The defender. The provider. The ultimate dominant. The leader of the pack. Not to mention he's a handsome man. He has his special needs and standards. Like everybody else. So why is it so difficult? Why can't he find the special someone who's more than "just any ordinary woman"?
He wants to drive over to the bonds office, to check on Stephanie and to talk about the good old days. But his pride won't allow him. He wants to buy a plane ticket to Miami, to check on Emily and to walk on the crowded and hopefully seagull-free beach. But he's afraid that Emily may actually kill him. What the Hell happened to them, his sweet Cupcakes? What the Hell has happened to him? He was the tall dark handsome Italian Stallion. He was the irresistible, attractive bad boy. He was every girl's fantasy. He still has that smile. He still has those teeth. His body is still firm and lean. He hasn't had sex in ages. He can no longer ignore the deep, aching longings.
What if he can't find the right woman? His mother is hopeful and optimistic. What if he can't sire his own children? His doctor is confident that one day, sooner or later, modern medicine will find a cure. And he can always try a test tube baby. And If Ben Affleck can be Batman, so can he—and every other ordinary Joe and Jane, by the way.
"Come on Joe. You can do it." He whispers to the mirror and tries to grin. The scar in his brow has grown paler. The eagle tattoo on his chest is as beautiful as usual. His throbbing manhood is as magnificent as ever. All his brown dense long curly chest hairs are firmly in place. In a blink of an eye he will be 40. He still misses Bob and it's still too early to get a new dog. His once lovely cozy sweet home now feels like a haunted house. He wants to know what love is. He wants to know what marriage is. He wants to know what family is. He wants to feel a father's joy. He wants to reassert a husband's pride. The right to be happy and without fears. The right to be the king in his own home. The right to make his wife his queen—
"Sweet Jesus! Joseph! Put some pants on!" His mother almost drops the casserole dish in her hand.
He lets out a horrified little squeak and hurries upstairs. If only he has the right to walk around naked in his own house on hot Sundays...
Yes, he's going to grow a beard.
~~The End~~