The Conference on Beautiful Moments

VIVIAN AND SID BREAK UP

V i v i a n a n d S i d B r e a k U p “Is this a bad time?” “No, it’s all right, Sid, it’s fine.” The last three weeks Sid had called Vivian every day, sometimes more than once and never at the same time, making her worry that eventually he would call at such a bad time she’d have to tell him to try back later, which she’s sure he’d take in the worst possible way. “Because if it’s not, I could call back.” “No, Sid, it’s OK. It really is fine.” Each time he phoned, Vivian couldn’t help picturing where he was and what he was wearing. This time she imagined him in a La-Z-Boy, although she didn’t remember if there were any in his brother’s apartment, cradling the cordless phone against his white tee shirt (the one with two nickel-sized holes under the left arm) watching the TV on mute. “You have to admit that since you broke up with me I’ve been very restrained, considering it’s me this happened to.” “Yes, you’ve been considerate and, once again, I didn’t break up with you.” “Not break up with me? What do you call it then—a leave of absence ?” “Sid,I told you I basically just needed some time apart to think.I mean I know it’s upsetting, it is for me too, but . . .” “You used to be able to think while we were together . . .” 41 42 t h e c o n f e r e n c e o n b e a u t i f u l m o m e n t s “Not always that well,” she said, trying not to sound sarcastic. “I thought you were thinking just fine—you published books, you got a full professorship, that’s more than I ever did.” “It’s not that kind of thinking, Sid, that I’m talking about.” “What then? What kind of thinking is it?” “Thinking about the future, about what I want. It’s life thinking.” “Life thinking?” “OK, admittedly a silly phrase. I mean evaluating my life and what I want in it while I’m still young enough to do something about it. You know I’m fifty-one now, not exactly a child.” “May I remind you that I’m six years older than you, my beauty queen. And what are you evaluating? You’ve been with me for thirteen or fourteen years. Don’t you know what I’m like, already? What don’t you know about me by now? You know I’m not the smartest man on earth and certainly not the richest or tallest. That I’m basically an aging, bony little paranoid nutcase Jew who thanked his lucky stars every night that he had you.” She pictured the hurt expression in his eyes, like a child feeling himself wronged.At barely five foot four, Sidney was sensitive about his height, as he was about his age, his expanding bald spot, his religion, his inability to get promoted at her college, his love of television, and just about anything having to do with their sex life. “I don’t hear you answering me, Viv. I’m not getting any younger here waiting for an answer.” “I don’t know what else to say, Sid. I’ve been saying the same thing to you every day. It seems like we’re talking in circles.” “I could use a little reassurance.” “Reassurance?” “Yes, if you still say, you haven’t broken up with me, yet. If that’s really true. Although I have to say, when I see my bed empty every night it definitely feels like you’ve left.” “I’ve left you temporarily so I can think.” “Again, with the thinking. Must life always be so complicated?” “Sid, I love you, OK?” “Finally you say the magic words, or some of them.” “I tell you that every time you call, don’t I?” “It doesn’t mean you’ll feel it by the time the next call comes. It could die in between calls.” Vivian laughed. He was speaking in his little-boy mode, one of his most charming she had to admit, in part because it was so unaffected. “It’s not a...