Stage Manager

May calls. I was taken a bit off guard, as I was working and only had a little time for that before Marcus arrived with his kids. Of course, I can’t tell her that: Marcus is on her list of people she doesn’t want to hear me talk about.

She used to adore Marcus. I introduced them, and the three of us talked all the time. We fooled around together on many occasions. He lives close to her, and I encouraged them to hang out.

But, as I’ve said, May gets very possessive when she feels I like someone too much. Never mind that I’ve known Marcus for half my life, and there is no imminent threat that he is going to “take” me from her.

One day last summer, I told her I was going to spend an extra night in her area, after a weekend with her, so I could visit Marcus and his kids. She got angry. If it was possible for me to spend another night away from the city, why wasn’t I spending it with her?

We’re spending three days together, I said. I haven’t seen Marcus or his kids in a couple of months, so we are grilling one night. Why is this a big deal?

It was evidently a big deal. She broke into tears. She asked why I don’t care about her or her feelings. Maybe we should break up, she said.

You want to break up because I’m having dinner with Marcus and his kids?

I’m not naïve. I know that my long relationship with Marcus is also a factor in her anxiety. She knows I have had sex with him, as she has had sex with us both. I’m not hiding any of that. But she also knows that I spend a lot of time with her, and while Marcus is a great friend, we aren’t about to elope.

The whole charade left me feeling emotionally manipulated. The correct response was clearly that all available time should be spent with May, and I should not opt to spend an evening with Marcus’s family at the expense of a fourth day with May.

Needless to say, I had dinner with Marcus and his kids that night. It was relaxing, a welcome respite from May’s meltdown. She called the next day to apologize. Par for the course.

When she called this time, I was still in the “perma-grin” phase of seeing Scarlet and trying to focus on a few things before several days with guests. I was chipper and alert.

The ostensible reason for her call had to do with a car she loaned me. She bought a new car last year, and at the time, I needed a car. She loaned me her old one. I paid for some repairs and got it running. It’s broken again, and I no longer need it, so we need to get rid of it.

She wants to take care of this so it isn’t a lingering concern when she moves to California.

The actual reason for her call was clearly her future. This call offered me another opportunity to beg her not to leave. Her possible job in California is still iffy at best, so there is no real urgency in dealing with the dead car.

May’s voice was heavy and slow. She was very depressed.

I stayed on subject. I tell her that it’s hard for me to take care of the car in the days after Christmas, but I will make a priority of it in January.

She asks for a deadline. I agree to a deadline.

Her tone is unmistakable. She is going through the motions of closing the books, insuring that there are no outstanding obligations when we break up.

We must be breaking up, in her mind, because I decided to spend New Year’s Eve with my daughter rather than her. Once again, I am afforded the opportunity to change my mind about that.

I’d rather not be painted into corners. If she needs to break up with me over that, then that will be the reason we broke up. I’m not begging her forgiveness for my desire to spend time with my daughter.

She asks if I am doing all I can to make money. She begins to offer suggestions on ways to manage my career. I begin to regret having answered the phone.

Part of her attraction to me has to do with my career. She works in the same field, and early on she dreamed that we would become a “power couple.” I was glad that she cared about my work—Lucy did not—and I endured her ideas that she would stage-manage my career.

But her suggestions are generally parochial, and her need to control me is really unpleasant. I tell her I am working, and I don’t want generic career advice at the moment.

I tell her I need to go.

We hang up. I don’t know what she wanted to accomplish with that call, but I am sure she is disappointed.