Page 25 of Everything We Thought Was True
Frank rose from the table, rinsed out his mug, and put his plate in the sink. He first went into the kids’ room and kissed them both on the forehead gently, trying not to wake them. Then he approached Teresa, who was soundly sleeping. He quietly stood over her. She looked so peaceful with her hair splayedacross the pillow. Young and innocent. He blew her an air kiss, not running the risk of waking her up by touching her.
Frank drove to the Drifters Boat Club slowly, enjoying the ride on a Saturday morning with few cars on the road, listening to his beloved opera and humming along. He was happy to make extra money by picking up more weekend shifts but also was hoping Jim would eventually offer him a full-time position with a higher salary than he made at the car dealership. His dream was to get his captain’s license one day and man yachts in the NYC area. He had to work all morning that day but then would take off in the afternoon. Maybe he would take the boat out and try an alternative route to Port Jefferson. Teresa wouldn’t want to come. She tolerated the boat but never loved it like he did. She didn’t feel comfortable on the water, no matter how much she tried. He wished she would learn to swim, for God’s sake. It was ridiculous that they owned a boat and their kids were such skilled swimmers, and she wouldn’t even go in the water.
Frank arrived at the club and walked into the main office. Jim was already at his desk, as was typical. No matter how early Frank arrived, Jim always beat him to it. Jim was wearing his tennis whites.Of course, Frank thought.It’s Saturday. Jim and his wife, Sharon, played doubles tennis every Saturday morning with Jerry Leiber and his wife. Frank glanced at his fingernails, suddenly feeling inferior to Jim. He saw the grease he could never fully scrub away and fisted his hands to hide them. Jim served as a constant reminder to Frank that he would never be as wealthy and successful. He seemed so cliché, a typical WASP working on his Studebaker model race car on weekends, parading his two beautiful daughters, who attended private academies instead of public school, and living in his mansion with a circular driveway on Davenport Neck. Frank admired and respected Jim but also resented him. He’d heard the rumors that Jim’s in-laws were loaded, and even though Jim had already come from money, he’d married into even more of it. Sharon had supposedly frontedhim the money to buy the boat club years before, using the investments her wealthy father had been smart enough to set aside for her.Lucky bastard, Frank often thought when he was feeling resentful. There was no fairy godmother waiting to hand Frank a cherished career.
Jim looked up at him now and made eye contact. Frank was glad he was early as he knew Jim ran a tight ship.
“Hey, Frank, how’s it going?”
“Good.” Frank took a seat at his desk and shuffled through the paperwork for a boat they were taking out of the water that day for repairs.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Jim said, getting up from his desk and walking over to Frank.
Frank swiveled his chair around to face Jim. “Sure, what’s up?”
“This isn’t easy for me. I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to say it, okay?”
Frank felt himself get warm. He worried he was being fired. But that didn’t seem possible. He was such a hard worker. Even though he was only here on weekends, he’d already made a tremendous impact on the Drifters, and Jim knew it. Clients asked for Frank directly, many of them waiting until the weekend to come to the office, knowing Frank would take care of their needs the right way.
What the hell is going on?
Jim nodded as if Frank had told him to go on. “You’re a good guy, Frank, and I think maybe you’re just confused. I think something is going on with you. And I don’t approve of it. Not at all. I want you to really think about this before you do anything stupid and hurt your family. Teresa is a nice girl and a good wife. But I’m mostly worried about your kids. Anthony needs you. He’s your boy. So does Lena. They need a strong father figure.”
Frank’s mind swirled with thoughts, all jumbled together, each one trying to take the lead, like little kids raising their handsto be called on in class.What the hell? How in the world does Jim know what’s going on? And what exactly does he think he knows?Frank swiveled in his chair, nervously looking at Jim, but not saying anything. He wanted Jim to go first, to show his hand, so Frank could gauge how much he knew.
“You know what I’m talking about, right? Don’t play dumb with me.” Jim raised his voice slightly, which startled Frank. Jim raised his voice with many workers and even some of the club members but never with him.
“What in the world are you talking about?” Frank was sweating even though it wasn’t hot in the office.
Jim bounced on his legs a few times as if he was going to jump or run. He looked like he had so much extra energy. His behavior unsettled Frank. He was usually very calm.
“Think about what you're doing to your kids. Your son is going to be confused. Boys look to their father as a role model to know how to be a man, Frank. And your daughter. You're going to ruin her. How is she ever going to have a normal relationship with a man, when her own father isn't a man himself?”
Frank felt stung. “Hey, I’m a man. And I’m not ruining my kids. Anthony spends a lot of time with me and looks up to me. And Lena is only five years old, for God’s sake. She’s fine.”
Jim shook his head vigorously. “Anthony needs to see what a normal man is like in order to become one himself. That kid is crazy about you. He wants to be you. And that’s the problem.”
Frank was stunned.How dare he?He felt like his blood was boiling, he was so mad.
Jim kept going. “And Lena... I know it may sound strange, but the lack of a father leaves a hole in a girl’s heart. A girl needs to feel she’s protected. She needs masculine energy to develop trust in men and later to give herself in love. You’re going to scar her for life,Frank, and ruin her chances at a stable relationship. She’s going to jump from one guy to another, searching for the security of a father.”
“Don’t give me that psychology crap,” Frank said, exasperated. He stared at Jim to show him he wasn’t backing down. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, Jim, but I don’t like it. It’s not your place, you hear me?”
“I’m worried about you. And your family. That’s all.”
“Don’t be. Stay out of it. I’m fine. I don’t need you prying into my life.”
“Here’s the thing.” Jim raked his hand through his hair quickly. “I know some of your friends are... faggots. I hear talk.”
“You son of a bitch! Are you calling me a faggot, Jim? Is that what you’re doing?” Frank stood up, facing Jim. He was shocked to find himself there, in front of his boss, yelling the wordfaggot.
It also petrified him. He wondered what Jim knew and how he’d come to know it. He and Henry were always so careful but maybe not as much as they thought. Maybe they’d let their guard down at some point.And what did Jim mean when he said he heard “talk”? What kind of talk?
Frank shuddered as he realized that the same rumor mill that had given him intel on Jim over the years might have turned its attention on him and Henry.My God. I could get fired. And not just from this job but from the dealership as well. Everyone could find out. I could be ruined.
Jim put his hands up as if he were surrendering. He backed up a few steps and then started walking back to his desk, but he was shaking his head. “Listen, Frank. It’s your life. But you work here. For me. And I’ve noticed some things. And I am telling you to be careful. Don’t cross any lines. You understand?”
Frank looked at him and then, in a quick motion, flung open the door and stepped out of the office. He couldn’t believe his boss knew. And if he knew, who else did? Frank was scared.Terrified, actually. He had to get to Teresa and talk to her before anyone else did.What if Jim tells Sharon about his suspicions?Frank would beat him to it. He would make Teresa understand Jim was totally out of line and having crazy thoughts. That they weren’t true. And then, as if a sharp pain had crippled him, Frank realized with stark reality that they were true. Jim wasn’t spinning lies—Frank was.
