Krista threw herself back into her chair.
"I mean, I not happy unless I'm miserable and if I'm miserable I'm happy; it's a vicious circle."
"It's circular logic and it's BULLSHIT!" Krista enunciated through the megaphone she made from her hands.
"It's not bullshit."
"I'll tell you what's not bullshit," Krista said sternly. "You're afraid to admit to yourself that if you placed any demands on Shannie, she'd push you away. You're smart enough to realize a dead end when you see one. Let's just say you somehow, some way, you managed to get Shannie to commit to you. You know that before long she would resent you. You would hate yourself for that. You couldn't stand yourself if you were responsible for her unhappiness. That's why you did what you did."
I wonder if Mr. Lucas was smart enough to realize what he did? Did he realize the pain he would inflict upon his family? Other then contributing to Beyford's biggest growth industry, what good did his bullet do? The parlor's financial woes didn't vanish. He cast his son prematurely into the profession. Not that my opinion matters, I still hate him, more so than when he was among the living.
Shannie was too smart to consider my pain. She knew I loved her for many things. She knew I loved her for her independence. If she gave my feelings any consideration, it didn't show. God, how we come to hate in other's what we love the most.
I think that's one of my biggest problems: I consider too much. Though it's hard not to consider Shannie's smiling face. Over the next year and a half, Shannie wore a permanent smile. Life was going her way. "Things are really working out for me, Just James," she told me the afternoon before Steve, Genise, her and I would get together for the last time. Even though I rarely saw Shannie, she occasionally spent a weekend in Beyford.
Since the couple reunited, I was wary to visit Atlantic City; nor were they quick to invite, when they finally did, I politely refused. When Genise and I finally crossed paths, we were cordial. Our secret was too volatile to mishandle. To our credit, we did well. Shannie never had the faintest notion, until the Friday before Christmas 1998.
As oft as I scolded myself for considering too much, maybe just once, if I'd considered keeping my mouth shut I wouldn't suffer this preoccupation of exercising the ghosts haunting my conscience.
The four of us met that evening at Dino and Luigis. Throughout diner the conversation flowed as easily as the merlot. The loving couple found humor with the horror of both Steve and my dating stories. Neither of us had women swooning over us, but we weren't living a priestly lifestyle either. Steve's main interest was a married woman. I'm not sure he's getting any and he's not willing to tell. What I do know is she makes sport of bending his ear with her marital-crisis-of-the-moment. For his troubles, I sure hope he's getting some, but I doubt it, like me Steve has a big mouth when it comes to carnal conquests. His silence bemoans the relationship's platonic nature.