Chapter 17 "Miss You" Early June 18, 1984

(Song suggestion-" Miss you" by the Rolling Stones)

Egon

"And for the 'Physicist of the Year" award goes to...," the male presenter announced and then paused dramatically because this was the final award of the night, the big one, "Dr. Egon Spengler for his theory of the —."

Shocked, I felt my mouth drop open, my face redden, and I had tunnel vision of sorts. I felt like I wasn't moving, but everything around me was going very quickly. A luminous light shone on me, causing me to be blinded, and I felt my body temperature rise to an uncomfortable level. I began sweating.

"I won?" I thought incredulously.

"Come on, Spengs, go give the speech," Peter urged as I sat there, startled, unable to move. Gradually, I stood up from my chair, saying.

"I won?"

"Fantastic job, you deserve it" Venkmam congratulated, smiling as I walked up to the stage, sweating bullets in my long sleeve white button-down shirt.

"Uhm, I didn't expect to...Uhm..win...this, so I am dumbfounded right now. I would like to thank my colleagues and business partners for their support, Peter Venkman and Ray Stantz. Also, my parents, my uncle Floyd and my great uncle Egon. They always told me to go after what I wanted and never to give up," I stated, looking out into the audience. Still, all I could see were flashing lights, and it distracted me as I thought for a moment about what I wanted to say. As I glanced around the room, faces became more focused as I saw men and women, husbands and wives together. Promptly, I felt a large hole in my heart.

"Janine," it whispered to me quietly at first and then more loudly until I heard her name screamed in my ear. I realized that this award was due to her neverending support.

"Also, I'd like to thank Ms. Janine Melnitz for encouraging me through my darkest times of doubt and uncertainty about my work. Without her, I would not have won this. Thank you," I acknowledged, feeling a tear squirt out of the corner of my eye as a pretty red headed woman escorted me off the stage.

Strolling back to my seat, one would have thought that I had won an Emmy with so many people congratulating me and wanting to shake my hand. As I did, I felt the distinct feeling that something was erroneous about the situation. The spotlight felt weird as I spoke to people and shook hands. I felt joyous about winning this award, but I still had a hole in my heart.

"What was missing?" I thought and then dismissed it as I took my seat. Jovially, I admired the award with my name on it. I felt pretty proud of myself.

"Way to go, Dr. Spengler, you are on your way to a Nobel now. Your theory was phenomenal," a contemporary of mine congratulated me with a slightly lopsided grin on his heart-shaped face.

"Thank you" I said. Observing the room, I noticed happy couples speaking in whispers to each other or stealing kisses in between conversations. A searing pang tore through my heart again.

"What's wrong with me," I scolded myself," You wanted recognition. You have it. Enjoy yourself."

In a daze, I attempted to live in the moment and celebrate the other physicists and myself inUnited States. However, I could not. A part of me was missing, part of this award absent, but I could not put my finger on it yet.

"What's wrong, Iggy? You don't seem as exhilarated as I thought you would be with this award," Venkman inquired as we took a taxi to the after party for the event.

"Huh?"

"You are preoccupied; why," he skeptically repeated. Peter noticed that I tapped my black dress shoe on the floor of the taxicab anxiously, and pointed to my nervous habit.

I put the award down next to me on the seat while resting my index finger from my right hand on my nose and then crossed my arms. A realization that this was becoming an obsession dawned on me, but I disregarded it.

"Why can't I figure this out," I silently agonized, unable to hear my friend speaking to me.

"Egon?"

Suddenly, Peter seized my arm and shook me to capture my attention.

"What!?" I angrily demanded, jerking my body away from him, "

"Iggy, I have been trying to..."

Still not listening, I scooted my body away from him and aimlessly gaped out of the window.

"What was the problem? I solve problems; that's my job. Why can't I solve this one?" I thought.

Irritated, Peter ignored me until we arrived at the bar. He paid the cabbie and disembarked the vehicle quickly without glancing back at me when we did. Obsessed with my puzzle, I left the car and shut the door behind me.

"I have to solve this problem," I muttered as I entered the bar. The establishment's lights were dimmed, and it was too crowded with people for me. As a result, I suspired loudly. I noticed that Peter sat at the bar, ordering a drink and chatting up a petite blonde woman in a concise black dress. Neglecting him, I joined my contemporaries in the back of the building with their wives or girlfriends, drinking and laughing. Like a ton of bricks, it hit me.

Janine.

My heart hurt at the mention of her name but as the night progressed, its intensity heightened, as did the pain and heaviness.

"Janine," a voice called.

"I know that I miss her already," I grumbled to myself, raising my right eyebrow, questioning myself, "why is my unconscious bringing her back?"

For a moment, I forced a smile on my face when I approached my friends. A blonde waitress took my drink order, and I politely asked for a Coors.

"Why wasn't this bringing me joy," I exasperatedly thought, " this was one of my planned steps towards a Nobel."

"Let's see this award, Egon. I may never get a chance to see it again, and you remember my wife, Sheree, " Dr. Sanders joked, shaking my hand in greeting. When I started teaching at Columbia in the early seventies, Michael Sanders was my mentor and man I greatly admired. The rail-thin dirty blonde-haired woman warmly smiled and congratulated me. I observed that she appeared to be more sickly than I had seen her last.

"When did I see her last," I wondered, "Was it Dr. Joseph's birthday with Janine in March ?"

"Nice to see you again," I echoed Sheree's words and handed my award to her husband.

"This is a great honor, Egon, and I am proud of you as your mentor," Michael stated as he examined the trophy cautiously.

"Are you well," I inquired of the reticent woman with dark brown eyes.

"Oh, yes, I am OK. I had another radiation treatment, and it wears me down," Sheree answered, and then I remembered that she had stage 2 breast cancer. Timidly, I nodded but didn't know what else to say, so I didn't.

Michael added, " I took the summer off from teaching, and we are going to her family's vacation home in Hampton's so I can take care of her."

Lovingly, he kissed his wife. The waitress brought my beer at that time to save me from feeling like an awkward third wheel.

" Janine," I thought:

"Do you want to start a tab, hon," the waitress asked me as I reminded myself to ask about Sheree's health.

"No, put it on mine, please," Michael interrupted, and I commenced protesting until he forced me to cease it with a wave of his hand.

"Thank you," I appreciatively replied, giving him a half grin.

" How often do you receive the "Physicist of the year on the Eastern Seaboard" award? Where's that feisty redhead you are dating," he inquired, handing me the award back. Michael chuckled at his joke and then drank a sip of scotch and coke.

I scrutinized the shiny like a new penny award when I took the trophy back. My name was displayed largely in a bold type with the words "Physicist of the Year on the East Coast" for 1983 on it, and I felt pride for my accomplishment. Meanwhile, my mentor was asking about Janine, and I hadn't heard him the first time.

"Uhm. We broke up," I anxiously stammered after a beat.

"Oh, that's too bad," Sheree disappointedly lamented, "I thought she was perfect for you, Egon. Janine, isn't it?"

The couple saw the signs of my embarrassment as my cheeks flushed a fiery red color, and I shifted my weight side to side. Both knew that I had trouble with small talk, and they realized that subject was now over. As a result, Michael spoke about issues in the science genre for an extended period, and I later engaged in discussions with my other contemporaries.

"Janine," a voice kept on repeating in my head. Sip by sip, I attempted to halt that voice by drinking beer even though I disliked it. I remembered what happened in May, and I vowed not to drink that much ever again.

Despairingly, I felt extreme displeasure although I had almost finished my second beer. I had loosened my tie a little bit in my annoyance and vexation, and I felt tipsy.

"What is wrong, Iggy?" a tall contemporary of mine questioned, noticing my displeased mood, " You should be on cloud nine because this is something you want."

Once again, the voice inside my head answered with a straightforward name, "Janine."

Instantly, a vision of my ex-girlfriend appeared in my head, one of her laughing. In it, Janine's ruby lips spread thinly into a wide grin. Her lovely blue eyes were sparkling in the light as she exuded happiness, and her smile was brighter than a 1000 watt light bulb. Also, I could hear her soft giggle in my ears, and it delighted me.

"Damn it, Spengler," I scolded myself inwardly," Pull it together. This is a massive accolade for you."

A beer later, Peter dragged me out of the bar because I had too much to drink. It was a more challenging task with my height than he had initially thought.

"I want another beer," I slurred, still baffled as to why Janine was on my mind so much. We had broken up six weeks ago, and I had been avoiding her as much as possible.

"No way," Peter replied, pushing me into the cab with him.

"Don't you remember what happened to you last time you drank?" He demanded when I sat down on the vinyl seats.

"Yes, but I drank far more that time than I did tonight," I matter of factly answered. Peter disregarded the comment so I asked him if I could stop by Brooklyn to inform Janine of my award.

"Are you crazy? It's after midnight," Peter exclaimed, giving me a wide-eyed look like I had lost my mind.

Shaking my head back and forth, I stated that I wasn't insane.

"Why wouldn't Janine be happy for me," I slurred, feeling light-headed and confused.

"Your idiotic choice to breakup still wounds her," Peter responded in disbelief.

"I think Janine would be happy for me," I stated, point blank, feeling mystified by Venkman's comment as he gawked at me like I was nuts in silence.

"Besides, she encouraged me from the beginning of her employment. Let's see her in Brooklyn. Janine is the reason I won this award," I truthfully added.

Venkman told the taxi driver the address of the firehouse and then sternly reprimanded, " You aren't thinking clearly, Iggy. Janine is heartbroken, and you showing up at her apartment is one of your worst ideas ever. Is this why you snapped at me earlier? Because of Janine? Come on, Iggy, you know that Janine doesn't want to see you right now. Especially drunk."

"I am not drunk," I haughtily countered, feeling off-balance, "I am tipsy."

The taxi driver peeled off of the curb, causing Venkman to slide on the vinyl seats towards me.

"Jesus," he mumbled and slid back to the right side of the taxi away from me.

"OK, I will call Janine then," I remarked stubbornly, crossing my arms across my chest and peering at my close friend earnestly. The world seemed to be spinning at this point, and I felt nauseated.

Rolling his brown eyes, Peter sighed heavily and said, " You don't get it, Egon. It's like Lucy; she's done with me, and I can't call her."

"Why in the hell did you start something with Ray's sister anyway," I questioned, in skepticism, " you knew he didn't want you to hurt her."

"For the record, Spengs, Lucy hurt me. I care about her, honestly, but I am not in love with her. She's afraid of getting serious because of her bastard ex-fiancee cheating on her," Peter reported, feeling sorry for himself.

My mind was jumbled as I still attempted to solve the puzzle of why this award wasn't making me jocular. Indeed, the alcohol did not help out.

"Iggy, you do not understand, though. Janine isn't going to take you back," Peter warned me.

"All I...Ahem.. want to do...Uhm... tell her about this…ahem… award, Venkman," I stammered, stumbling over my words. It was annoying that Peter was fighting me so hard on speaking to Janine.

Eventually, he convinced me that it was too late to call her when we arrived back at the firehouse since it was now 12:30 a.m. Wednesday morning. I went back into the lab to contemplate and meditate. As a theoretical physicist, that is what I did. Think.

After thirty minutes of good meditation, I sobered up. Then, like a slap in the face, it came to me.

"Without Janine in my life to share it, this award means nothing to me," I muttered out, having a eureka moment.

It felt like a bolt of lightning had hit me as I sat there with my realization. My body responded positively as a flood of love entered my heart when I thought about it.

"Now, all I have is this award and not her. Is this what I wanted? Another award on my shelf but no one to share it with," I mumbled, holding the award in my hand.

I recalled last Thanksgiving when I visited my parents, realizing that I had these awards sitting on my shelf without any meaningful memories of friendships or relationships. This hole in my heart was piercing me now with a deep pain as I realized that without Janine, it didn't matter the achievements that I had made. I felt perplexed as I thought about it some more.

My gorgeous ex-girlfriend started dating that wanker Victor, and agitation rose inside me when I thought about it. I was insanely envious of him..

"Janine," my heart declared in a sing-song voice, producing it to melt. Despite breaking up with her, I was desperately in love with her. I thought my failure in defending Janine warranted it.

My world began to unravel again just when I had begun to forgive myself for not protecting her.

I overheard Janine explain to Venkman and Stantz that Doris was dying to set her up with Victor since I had broken up with her. She seemed enthusiastic about it, which produced a horrific shock through my heart like a patient experiencing electroshock therapy.

On Monday, Victor surprised her by sending her favorite flowers and roses. Janine was over the moon about having those flavorful aromas around her for the rest of the afternoon.

At the time, Peter, Ray, and I discussed the aftermath of a bust in the former's office. Victor, dressed in a brown suit, entered the firehouse to pick up Janine for a date. Joyously, she ran to him in her ruffled vibrant yellow dress with a plunging neckline. Janine, to my dismay, gave him a big kiss to thank him for the flowers, and she had pressed her lithe body tightly against him. My heart ached tremendously as I watched the scene unfold.

Later, Ray informed me that my face transformed to an eggplant purple when I saw the two canoodle enthusiastically in each other's arms. I honestly thought my heart was about to stop. Unable to control my jealousy, I stood up from the chair I sat in abruptly, causing it to fall, and stormed up the stairs to the lab.

Sitting on the sofa, I closed my eyes, still imagining the saccharine way she tasted when we kissed, the delightful feel of her velvety skin, or even the sound of elatedness when she moaned in pleasure when we kissed.

"I am in control of my emotions at all times, I am in control of my emotions at all times," I repeated audibly, wishing I could force it to be true.

The reality was that when it came to Janine, I wasn't, nor did I want to be.

"Who made the stupid decision to break up with her? You did," I thought, berating myself.

It wasn't just the physical things that I missed. Janine doted on me when we were dating, took care of me, and listened with great interest. The times we shared felt right, even when we were just sitting silently, Janine was a part of me, the other part that made me whole. She was perfect for me, and now I was just a jerk who hurt her numerous times. I stood up from the sofa and paced the room, trying to solve the issue I had created for myself to no avail.

"I miss you, Janine," I whispered out loud.

That was the first time I admitted that statement verbally in six weeks. I spent most of the night in the lab working until I had finally quieted my mind enough to sleep at four-twelve in the morning.