"I've met someone."
Steve Brady sunk into the couch. He felt as if his heart had been violently ripped from his chest. He struggled to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.
"Their name is Che Diaz, and I'm falling in love with them. I feel alive for the first time in two years!"
"Them?" Steve's momentary confusion snapped him out of his trance. "Miranda, how many people did you fall in love with?"
"Steve, Che is nonbinary. Their pronouns are they/them.
Steve remembered the conversation from the day before as his forehead throbbed in pain. He hadn't been able to sleep - he couldn't stop racking his brain, trying to remember any signs in their 21 year relationship that Miranda might not be straight. He finally concluded that it didn't matter - Miranda loved him, until she didn't. Then she loved Che. But who the hell was Che? And when did Miranda stop loving him? He had been so blindsided that he didn't ask how long the affair had been going on, and now that was all he could think about. He needed some perspective, so he picked up the phone, and dialed his old business partner.
"Hey Steve, what's up?"
"Hi Aiden, I'm good." Steve paused before adding, "actually, that's a lie. Miranda left me."
"Oh shit man, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, she met someone else - someone nonbinary, named Che Diaz."
"The comedian?"
"She… I mean they… they're a comedian? Miranda left me for a celebrity?"
"Yeah, but don't look up their special - it has a few good jokes here and there, but overall, it's not funny."
Steve's mind raced. Since when did Miranda run in the same crowds with celebrities? Carrie knew a few celebrities - did Carrie introduce them? Suddenly, he remembered he was still on the phone with Aiden, and he decided he had to think this through later. He knew better than to bring up Carrie with him. After kissing her in Abu Dhabi, Aiden had promised his wife Kathy that he wouldn't see Carrie again, and the last time Steve had brought her up, Aiden ended the conversation abruptly and hung up.
"Anyway," Steve replied after an awkward pause, "I'm calling to ask you about the bar. I've been overwhelmed lately trying to stay afloat, and we're really understaffed. When I get home from work at night, I'm too tired to do anything but watch TV and eat ice cream. I haven't been easy to live with - I think I drove her away. So I'm selling the bar. I've already lost most of my hearing from all of the garage bands that have played on our stage over the years, and I'm only 55. So I'm done. Do you know anyone that might be interested in buying it?"
Aiden responded, "Not off hand, but I'll ask around."
"Thanks."
"Anytime, brother."
Steve set his phone down, and opened up his laptop. He typed "Che Diaz" into his search engine. Sure enough, Che was a famous comedian. As he scrolled down the page, he saw a link to a podcast, called "X,Y, and Me," hosted by Che, with comedian Jackie Nee and… author Carrie Bradshaw.
"FUCK!" Steve shouted reflexively. In the next moment, he saw Brady coming down the stairs.
"What is it Dad? Did you see a mouse? We can't have mice - Luisa will lose it if she sees one."
"No, no mice, I just saw something crazy online, that's all. Relax."
"Okay, good, because we can't have mice."
"Got it Brady. No mice. Gotta keep Luisa happy." Steve didn't say what he was thinking: that doing everything right was no guarantee Luisa would stay happy. That you might not realize a woman isn't happy until it's too late.
"Thanks Dad," Brady smiled.
The next day at work, Steve read over his books and added up all his debts. He sighed. He could make a small profit if he sold the bar, but not enough to retire on, especially if Brady got into college next year. Ever since Miranda had quit her job and gone back to school, their savings had dwindled down to cover rent, food, and Miranda's tuition at Columbia. Steve had been supportive - he knew he could always count on Miranda to make sure everything worked out. She had always been the strong one. The serious one. When she quit her job, he assumed she would move on to bigger and better things, so he poured himself into the bar and gave her space to find her calling. He wondered what he would do without her, and he felt tears stinging his eyes.
"Hey boss?"
Steve wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. "Yeah, come in Marco."
Marco, Steve's bartender, came into his office. He gave Steve a quizzical look for a second, then shrugged.
"Hey, my girlfriend's birthday is tomorrow, do you mind if I take the night off?"
Steve sighed. He didn't have anyone to cover Marco's shift, and he had planned to take the evening off. Still, it wasn't as if he had anything else to do that night. Working might be a good distraction. "Yeah, that's fine, you can leave tomorrow night at 8 pm."
"Thanks! I really appreciate it."
"It's no problem."
As Marco left the room, Steve felt a buzz in his pocket. He checked his texts, and saw a message from Samantha Jones. Steve smiled. He had grown close with Samantha several years ago, when he and Miranda had separated. Samantha had reached out to him after Miranda had publicly rebuffed him at Carrie and John's engagement dinner. She had encouraged him not to give up hope, and she had turned out to be right - Miranda came back. Maybe she would have some hope now. He looked down at her text.
Hi handsome. Make me a Cosmo?
Steve laughed. He used to joke with her that Cosmos were a ridiculous drink, but the girls loved them anyway.
Of course not. But I'll make you a whiskey neat.
He thought about the first time Samantha had reached out to him. The night Miranda said those words - the ones that had lived in his spirit ever since. Those words: You broke us. What we had is broken. He could remember the guilt he felt, how it crushed him, and how he adapted himself to it. Eventually Miranda forgave him, but he had kept that guilt, like a weighted blanket, around his shoulders. It was a burden, but it was also strangely comforting. It made him feel like he had some control over his life. That he could make decisions that would hurt the people he loved, but he could also make good decisions that could rebuild what had been broken. But, what could he do now?
Heard about Miranda. Hope you're okay.
Steve considered his response.
She's going through some sort of mid-life crisis. Don't worry - I'm not going to give up hope.
The next text he received surprised him.
20 years is a pretty good run. Better than anything I could pull off.
Her answer upset him. Why wasn't Samantha encouraging him like she had before? Did she know something he didn't? He needed answers, but he knew Samantha wasn't the person he needed them from.
It's nice to hear from you. Hope London is treating you well.
Steve didn't know why Samantha had gone to London, but he assumed it was work-related. Although, she could be having an affair with Boris Johnson. The thought made him laugh. Samantha had a spirit that couldn't be contained. He tried to think of the last time he'd followed his passion, then he tried to remember the last time he felt passionately about anything. I want Miranda, he thought to himself. Miranda is my passion. He set down his phone, and made a plan to talk to Carrie Bradshaw.
"C'mon Brady, we're going to be late."
Steve put his shoes on, then stood up and practiced the questions he'd prepared in the mirror by the door. "So, Carrie, did you introduce Miranda to Che?" No, that was too direct. "Hey Carrie, do you know how long Miranda has known Che?" Frustrated with himself, he covered the mirror with his jacket. As he turned from the door, Brady came down the stairs.
"Dad, why are we still going to this? Mom left us - why are we helping her paint this building?"
"First of all, Mom didn't leave us - she left me. Secondly, we're still a family, even if your mom and I aren't together right now. And third, it's for a good cause. We're painting a women's shelter so that women in the community in need can get help. It's the right thing to do, and it'll be good to get out of the house."
Brady sighed. "I'm just glad Luisa is meeting us there. I don't want to have to spend too much time with Mom."
Steve knew he should address Brady's comment, but he was frustrated with Miranda too, so he just responded, "Hurry up, let's go."
Twelve hours later, Steve sat on a barstool in a pub he had never visited before. He ordered a long island iced tea - and when it came, he finished it in one swig. He ordered a second one, and the bartender gave him a look before he served it to him. Steve stared into the mirror on the wall against the bar. He groaned and turned away.
He thought back to what had happened earlier that day - he didn't get much out of Carrie, except what he already knew: that Miranda was in love with Che. He regretted his plan to talk with her - Carrie was Miranda's best friend. She wouldn't divulge anything that might help him figure out what had happened - not if it implicated Miranda in any way. He thought about what he'd said after saving Carrie's wedding ring from the sink drain: that his ring would never come off his finger. He believed that when he'd said it. But, when he and Carrie had finished painting their room, he went outside to get some lunch, and what he saw next to the food truck shocked him. There was Miranda, and right there standing next to her was Che Diaz. He had never met Che before, but he instantly recognized them from his Google search. Miranda hadn't told him Che was coming - was Che surprising her? They were talking, and then, they leaned in, and kissed Miranda. Something inside Steve hardened - and he was filled with an emotion he didn't recognize right away, something he hadn't felt since he was a teenager.
He was filled with rage.
He ran toward them.
"What the HELL are you doing here?" he screamed. "This is a family event - this is OUR family's event - you have NO RIGHT to be here!" He lifted his finger and poked Che in the chest menacingly.
Che looked startled at first, but responded quickly. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you need to get your hands the fuck off of me NOW, asshole."
Steve shook with fury. He screamed, "Do you do this a lot? Sleep with married women? Break families apart?"
He looked at Che, whose face hardened. "I was upset with Miranda when she told me she wasn't in an open marriage, because I didn't like the idea of her lying about who she was, but if this is the kind of person you are, I frankly don't blame her for leaving you."
"OPEN MARRIAGE?" Steve was flabbergasted. "Why the hell would you assume she was in an open marriage? How many marriages in Brooklyn are open? Five?"
Suddenly, Nya stepped in. "Steve, we are here to paint and prepare a building for women who are escaping violent men, and we will not tolerate violence on these premises. You need to leave, now."
Steve looked around, and his body fell. All eyes were on him, and the expressions he saw broke his heart. These women, his wife's friends, his friends, looked at him with shock - and fear. Brady looked down at the ground - his eyes trying not to make contact with him. The man who had arrived in the limo with Charlotte looked annoyed at him, and took a step in his direction.
Steve sighed. "I'm sorry everyone. I'm sorry. I'll go. I…" but his voice trailed off.
The next thing Steve knew, he was sitting at a bar that he didn't know, looking in the mirror and feeling disgust with the man he saw there. When his second long island iced tea arrived, he guzzled it down.
"Geez honey, go light on those teas, they'll fuck you up!"
Steve turned around, and he couldn't believe what he saw. There, illuminated by the fluorescent light of a neon sign, was a ghost from his past - his ex-girlfriend, Debbie.
Thirty minutes later, Steve was sitting at a booth with Debbie. She had ordered him some buffalo wings and fries to help him sober up. She was right - those two teas had definitely fucked him up. "Why are you being so nice to me? Don't you know? I'm an asshole."
"Steve, I've dated you, I know you're an asshole." Debbie retorted. "My friends were leaving and I was about to head home when I saw you on that stool - you look terrible! What happened?"
Steve took a breath, and then it all came gushing out. Miranda leaving him. Che Diaz. The staffing and money issues at his bar. How he humiliated himself in front of all his wife's friends - and Brady.
"So now you know what a loser you're sitting with, you still want to hang out with me?"
Debbie laughed. "C'mon Steve, you're not a loser, you're just having a bad year. My ex-husband, he's a loser. He left me and Leo 10 years ago - that's my son's name, Leo - and he hasn't spoken to us since. I've had to support us - and I've done a damn good job of it too. I'm the best hairdresser in Queens - ask anyone!"
Steve looked at Debbie, and he couldn't believe how time had passed so quickly - she looked almost the same as she had two decades ago. "You aged incredibly. You are still as gorgeous as you were 22 years ago."
Debbie smiled. "You're still drunk."
"No, I'm not kidding. You look amazing. Tell me more about Leo."
"Ohh, you know teenagers, he loves girls, the Knicks, and video games, just like everyone else. How is Brady? He's gotta be grown up by now, right?"
Steve laughed. He filled her in on Brady, how he had a girlfriend, and how he would be turning 18 soon.
"Wow, that's incredible! It's amazing how fast time flies."
Steve considered this. "Yeah, I guess so." He looked at his wedding ring. "When I think about the last 20 years with Miranda, it feels like it was one long test. A test I failed."
"Love shouldn't feel that way, Steve."
"Okay, then how should it feel, Debbie?"
Debbie gave Steve a serious look. "Are you a Coldplay fan?"
"What?"
Debbie sat up. She sang softly: "I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts. Some superhero, some fairytale bliss. Just someone I can turn to, somebody I can miss."
Steve looked at Debbie, and for the first time in his life, he saw her.
"You know, I'm feeling pretty sober now. Can I walk you home?"
The next month flew by for Steve. He and Debbie were taking things slowly - they had only been on a few dates together since they reconnected. But it was enough. It filled Steve's heart with hope - hope that the future might look brighter than the past. Brady and Luisa had decided to backpack across Europe, so Brady started helping out bussing tables at the bar to earn cash for the trip. Steve relished the extra time he got to spend with him. When Miranda told Steve she was moving to California with Che, Steve surprised himself by feeling happy for her. Steve was feeling happy pretty often these days.
"So which country are you and Luisa visiting first?"
Brady was sweeping around the tables as he responded, "I think we're starting in Spain - but it's still up in the air. We're playing it by ear."
Steve smiled. "I think all of us are doing that these days." Then his smile faded. "Brady, I need to talk to you about something."
"Don't worry Dad, you know we use protection."
"Gross. No. I want to talk to you about what happened at the women's shelter last month."
"Dad, it's fine."
Steve insisted, "No, it's not. I lost my temper. I felt violence in my heart. It wasn't right."
"Dad, you poked Che with one finger. I think they're fine."
"Brady, you aren't listening. It's not fine. I've apologized to your mother and Che, and I need to apologize to you too. I'm your dad - I want to set a good example for you. You can't get in people's faces when you get angry at them - especially women. Or trans people. Or non-binary people. Really anyone."
"Dad, you're rambling."
"Brady, I need to know that you hear me."
"I hear you Dad. It's okay. I get it."
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad."
Steve smiled. "You know, I have a date tonight with Debbie."
"Yeah, she seems nice."
"Yeah. Hey, grab me a few glasses from the backroom, would you?"
"Sure, Dad." Brady walked off, and as he did, Steve checked his phone, and saw a text from Debbie. He grinned. His heart was full, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt alive.
