Chapter 55: A Freudian Thing

It was a bit chilly outside, but the sky had cleared and the stars were out making it a nice night for a walk on the boardwalk. 

Wes and Janet followed Troy and Jasmine at a respectable distance walking painstakingly slow. He was still astounded that she allowed him to join her, although, he did suspect it had to do with her father and her desire to somehow punish him. So she was using Wes, so what? At least they were together. 

Did he dare put his arm around her? He certainly wanted to. Should he take hold of her hand? Would she rebuke even that tiny gesture? Very likely, yes. As luck would have it, he saw her wrap her arms around herself and shiver. He instantly pulled off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Then, with only a moment’s hesitation slipped his hand around her waist.

“I should have gotten your coat,” he said.

“Thank you,” Janet said.  She looked up at him and saw that his defeated puppy dog face was finally gone. Good, she thought, now she could go on berating him without feel guilty.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

They walked on in silence for several yards with only the water splashing against the pilings making a sound.

“May I ask you something, Wes?” she said.

"Yes,” he answered.

"What would make a man, a guy who cheated on his wife, go out of his way to do something nice for her?” she asked.

“That’s easy. He still loves her,” he said.

“But if he truly loved her, why would he cheat on her in the first place?” she said, a catch in her voice.

Wes tugged her closer. “I…I don’t know. I don’t know why that happens, but it does, all the time. Guys at school, they get off on having tons of girls. I don’t get it. One should be enough…if…if you like her enough.”

Janet turned to him staring into his face. “So, you think he didn’t love her enough?” she earnestly asked.

Wes stared into her big brown eyes and wished he knew the answer. She looked so sad, desperate even, but he doubted anything he could say would help.

“People change over time, and feelings change,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, turning back to the water. “And too many bimbos get in the way.”

“True,” he said. “If there weren’t so many girls willing to do whatever it takes to get a guy, even guys that already have a girlfriend, maybe more guys wouldn’t think it’s okay to cheat on their girlfriends.”

She spun around. “So, you blame the girls?”

“No! not just the girls,” he said, emphatically shaking his head. “Guys should be able to… to, you know… not cheat. They should resist temptation. And if they can’t resist, they should stay away from it. And let's not forget, girls cheat on their boyfriends too, all the time. Goes both ways.”

Janet stared at him for a long time. “Sage advice. Too bad you didn’t give it to my father before he broke my mother’s heart,” she said and once more she turned her back on him and looked out to sea.

Wes hesitated only a minute then he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Janet,” he whispered.

“That’s what love gets you,” she said, bitterly.

“That’s not love’s fault,” he said. “That’s… human weakness. He was just weak. But I know one thing for sure, Janet.”

She turned around and looked at him. “What?”

“Your dad’s sorry as hell.”

“Sorry he got caught,” she said, staring at his shirt—or rather her father’s shirt. Without thinking she touched it with her cold fingers then rested her forehead on the soft fabric and inhaled that familiar scent. It took her back in time.

Janet was eight years old and she bounced into the living room with a crudely wrapped gift. 

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” she said brightly.

“Janet Baby, it’s not my birthday until next week. Did you mess up reading the calendar, you goofy girl?” he said putting aside the newspaper. He pulled her onto his lap hugging her tightly, kissing her cheek and fluttering their eyelashes together until she giggled.

“I want you to open my present first,” she said, so excited she could barely sit still. “I did it all by myself.”

“Wow, am I special or what? Well, I don’t know if it’s allowed, but I don’t see the birthday police anywhere, so I won’t tell if you don’t, okay?” he told her.

“Okay,” she said. She could barely contain herself while he unwrapped the paper and opened the bright blue box to reveal a bottle of expensive cologne. “Smell it, Daddy.”

“Baby, did you ask Mommy before you got this?” he asked opening the bottle and smelling an intoxicating scent that was so familiar to him.

“No, I found it and bought it all by myself,” she answered proudly. “Do you like it?”

“Baby, I love it. I used to have this same cologne a long time ago. It was my favorite and still is. Thank you so much. You always know exactly what I like. You’re my extra special girl. I love my Janet Baby.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. I wanna marry you when I grow up,” she said snuggling  against him.

“Silly girl, you can’t marry your daddy. That’s a Freudian thing,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“What’s that?” she asked her eyes as wide as they would go.

He laughed and squeezed her. “I’ll tell you when you’re older. How about some ice cream?”

Janet’s lips trembled and before she knew it, she was crying into Wes’ chest.

Wes pulled her closer. “Oh, Janet.”

They stayed like that for several minutes. He rubbed her back and whispered to her, until Janet stopped crying and she brushed at her face. He handed her a clean handkerchief and pushed the wet hair out of her face.

“Guys coming in? Dessert time,” Troy said, his arm around Jasmine who looked frozen. Janet turned away from them, hiding her face.

“We’ll be in soon,” Wes told them. 

“Did you see that?” Troy whispered as they stepped into the building. “They were hugging! That means she’s forgiven him!”

“I can’t believe it,” Jasmine said. “I thought maybe in a week, she might talk to him again without snapping his head off, but this, so soon? Wes is good…at least good for her. She must really like him.”

“And he must really like her,” Troy said.

“Maybe we should go in, Janet. You’re getting cold,” Wes said.

Janet nodded and allowed him to lead her back to the restaurant. They walked in silence for a bit.

“I hate him,” she finally said as she wiped at her last tear.

“That’s too bad, cuz he really, really loves you. I can tell,” he said,  kissing the top of her head.

“Wes,” she said, stopping just outside the door. “Um, do you know what a Freudian thing means?”

"Do you mean a Freudian slip?"

"No, not that. I know that," she said, staring up at him.

“Sure, um…anyone of a few theories Sigmond Freud used to proclaim,” he said watching her curiously.

“Like what?”

“Uh…well, he used to say stuff like every human frailty or mental disturbance could be attributed to your relationship to your parents. For men it was their mothers and for women, their fathers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…uh...okay, he used to say that all men look for a wife that is most like their mother.”

“And girls want to marry their fathers?” she asked.

 “Something like that. Why do you want to know?”

She shook her head. “Just remembered it from…somewhere,” she said. “Do…do you believe it’s true,  Freudian thing?”

“Depends,” he said shrugging. “If a guy really liked his mother, then it would make sense that he would want a wife just like her. I don’t think that’s bad though. My mom was great so I’d be lucky if I could find a wife just like her. They make it out to be a bad thing, something sick and perverted. Maybe it is if you’re a psycho, but if you’re normal, then it’s fine.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” she said staring up at him, then looking down at the shirt. She touched it again. She looked up again and smiled. "A Freudian thing. I get it now. Thank you, Wes, " she said. She went up on tiptoe, kissed him, then swiftly went through the door.

He stood stunned, rooted to the spot. “Any time,” he muttered, then followed her inside.