American Outlaw (31 page)

“Yeah, it would have been a bonding experience. Maybe it would have made you nicer to your husband,” I said, tickling her side playfully.

“Jesse!” Janine shouted. “Don’t tickle!” She punched me on the shoulder several times, laughing.

“Hey,” I said, smiling tightly, “you hit damn hard. Stop, okay?”

“Well, don’t
tickle,
” Janine said. She shot me a look. “You bring it on yourself, Jesse.”

We stared at each other for a moment, on the brink of hostility.

“So,”
she said, sighing, changing the subject, “when are you going to Vegas, to become, like, a minister?”

“Tomorrow.” I drew her closer to me, lay my forehead up against hers. “You feel like coming with me?”

“Of course I do,” Janine said, looking wistful. “But I can’t. I have engagements this whole weekend.”

“Well, all right,” I said, secretly a bit relieved. “Tell you what. I’ll try not to gamble away the farm while I’m there.”

“You’re funny,” Janine said, kissing me lightly on the lips. “Look, I should go. I’m dancing tonight. I won’t be home until late.”

The crew and I worked until late in the evening, putting the finishing touches on the Suburban. When we were done, we’d installed a set of gull-wing rear doors, a stained-glass roof, and an intricate pipe organ. We were ready to marry in style.

I drove home, dead tired, looking forward to grabbing a couple of hours of much-needed sleep before I rose early in the morning to drive to Las Vegas. I rolled into our driveway, slammed the door of my truck behind me, and trudged wearily upstairs, falling into bed without even showering.

I woke up several hours later to the feeling of my wife straddling my body in bed.

“Fucking bastard,” Janine mumbled. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol. Her eyes squinted heavily.

“Huh?” I asked, still half-asleep.

“You fucking bastard,” Janine repeated. Then, cocking back her fist, she punched me right in the eye, hard.

“What the
hell
?” I roared, pushing her off me.

“You took . . .” she mumbled, falling to the side of me.

“Janine!” I cried, leaping to my feet. I clutched my injured eye, my adrenaline racing. “What the fuck is
wrong
with you?”

“You took . . .” Janine said, laughing, once, drunkenly, “my parking spot.” Then she shrugged, fell facedown into her pillow, and began snoring lightly.

“Janine!”
I shouted, furious, my blood racing. “JANINE!”

——

The following day, I drove as planned to Las Vegas to officiate the wedding. A couple from North Carolina had won a sweepstakes from Discovery, securing for them the honor of being married in a car by a dysfunctional welder. Fittingly, my eye had swelled up terrifically where I’d been punched. I had a big ol’ shiner.

“Get into some trouble last night, Jesse?” the makeup artist asked me, cheerfully.

“You could say that,” I muttered.

“How about you let me cover that up for you?” she proposed. “It might not look so terrific on television.”

Humiliated, my mind whirling, I sat in the makeup chair and let her apply pancake and rouge to my swollen eye and cheekbone.

This can’t go on,
I thought.

With cameras in tow, we set out for downtown Vegas, where we orchestrated a street-side pickup of Chris and Sara, the excited young couple. I let down the automatic doors, and they strutted up regally into the mobile Suburban wedding chapel.

It was showtime. My heart felt unexpectedly heavy as I spoke the words, “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

The groom looked at his wife with love and excitement in his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I do.”

As I stood there and watched the happy young couple come together, I realized, with a sinking feeling, that this thing I had signed up for might not turn out as I’d hoped.

That evening, I called Janine from my hotel room in Vegas.

“I think we have to face facts. It’s not working,” I said, flatly. “I mean us. We’re not working.”

“Jesse, love, I can
explain
. . .”

“You
punched
me last night. Do you even remember that?”

“I recall doing
something
like that,” she said, “but if you’d give me a chance to explain, I think you’d understand. It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t feeling well . . .”

“I’m frightened to be around you,” I said. “Don’t you get it?”

“A big, tough guy like you?
Scared?
”

“Janine,” I said, exasperated. “I came from a violent family. Okay?”

“I
know
that, but . . .”

“One of my earliest memories is my dad breaking his hand in a fight with my mom,” I said. “I
heard
him do it. They were yelling at each other for hours.”

“Jesse, please . . .”

“Then I heard him hit something. I heard it through the wall of my bedroom. Do you know what that’s like for a kid, Janine? The next day, his hand was broken. They both tried to tell me that he fell off a
ladder.
I was only six, but I was already too old to fall for that one.”

Janine waited for a moment. “Well? What does that have to do with me?”

“I can’t have that kind of thing in my house,” I said. “I just . . . I can’t have it.”

“I didn’t
mean
to,” Janine sighed. “I
love
you, honey. Give me another chance.”

After some more discussion, we agreed to try again. But my patience was running thin. And then, only a week later, an everyday argument exploded, and I left the house in a huff. Janine followed closely behind me.

“Get back here,” she screamed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m out of here,” I said, striding past her, toward my vehicle.

Without another word, Janine leaped into her car and gunned the engine. Dumbfounded, I watched as she jerked the car into reverse recklessly, then drove it straight toward me.

“What the FUCK is WRONG with you!” I screamed, leaping out of the way. “You almost hit me, you crazy bitch!”

Janine backed the car up, revved the engine. Again, I leaped out of the way.

“That’s it!” I cried. “You are so fucking
out
of here! You’re GONE! Now!
Leave.
”

“Or what?” she screamed.

“Or I’m going to call the cops and have you arrested for assault, Janine!”

Quickly, she turned off the car, then said she didn’t mean it. But by now I’d been through it enough times to recognize things weren’t going to change. She had to go.

I watched in silence as she packed a suitcase, and then she left.

——

For the first time, I had the whole house to myself. I sat down in the kitchen, the weirdly silent kitchen, and poured myself a bowl of cereal. Slowly, I ate, looking out over the beach as I did so. I breathed in deeply, and exhaled a long, relieved breath. I had never felt so tranquil in my own home.

Janine had vacated the premises. But before doing so, she’d left a note:
I hope we can work this out.

I folded it carefully, then threw it in the trash.

“We were a mess,” I confessed to Tyson, the next time he was back in California.

“Bro,” he said, smiling, “I
hate
to tell you I told you so. But . . .”

“Why didn’t anyone
warn
me?” I moaned.

“We tried to,” he said. “But you just weren’t ready to hear it.”

I sat down at the kitchen table and looked at Tyson gravely. “You knew I came from a pretty messed-up home, right?”

“No,” he admitted. “You never really mentioned it to me.”

I sighed. “I just . . . I want to do
better
than that. I can’t let my kids grow up like I did.”

Tyson shook his head. “Jesse,” he said, after a second, “no matter how hard it is, what you’re doing right now is worth it, man. You have to try to make a new start without this woman.”

I tried to make work fill my emotional void. The lineup of customers clamoring for expensive custom bikes was endless, so, digging in, I tried to face the stack of orders with renewed determination.

Soon I lost myself in the rhythmic, soothing tempo of welding. The mask flipped down over my head had never felt so protective. When I was under that metallic hood, shooting sparks and melting steel, I was free from human engagement. There were no stupid conversations. No mindless bullshitting about the NFL or horse racing. No wife who punched me in the fucking face.

Weeks passed, and then months. Gradually I watched myself grow stronger. I spent the weekends alone with my kids, running on the beach with them, laughing, enjoying the process of watching them grow up. They were my saviors.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel starved for companionship. I was so used to being in a relationship: Karla and I had been together for the better part of a decade, and I hadn’t been alone for very long before I’d found myself head over heels for Janine. For better or for worse, I seemed most comfortable being part of a twosome. I guess I was coming around to the realization that I missed having a woman in my life when, right on cue, Janine finally called.

“I want to see you,” she said seductively. “Can you guess why?”

“Janine,” I said stiffly. “I really don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Oh, come on.” She laughed. “You’re not
still
mad about what happened, are you?”

“Which time?” I asked, angrily.

Janine laughed. “Honestly, honey, I feel
awful
about smacking you. You know I wasn’t in the right head space at the time. But I’ve got things in order now, and I want to make it up to you.”

“Well,” I said, my resolve weakening. “How exactly do you mean?”

Janine let her voice drop to a whisper. “I’d much rather show you in person than describe it on the phone.”

Half an hour later, she was at my doorstep. Five minutes after that, we were in bed together.

We slept together, one last time—my lust had gotten the better of me. But it wouldn’t happen again. I had been wrong to believe that I could get closer to her. Janine was too violent, too unpredictable to form a life around. She would never be able to change.

“We should give this another shot,” said Janine. “Don’t you think?”

I shook my head. “No. This was a mistake.”

Janine shrugged and began putting her clothing back on. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try,” she said, smiling and strangely smug. “I’ll see myself out.”

13
 

Several months passed without speaking to Janine. Slowly, I began to form plans for a life beyond our relationship, beyond a marriage that I already considered a regrettable mistake. I knew someday I would find a wiser, more stable person to spend time with. Until then, I would be best off alone.

Then one day, with no warning, Janine appeared at the shop.

“Can I speak with you?” she asked, looking serious.

“You came by on the wrong day,” I said stiffly, not looking up from my work. “No filming happening here.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Janine said, steadily. “I’m pregnant, Jesse. We’re going to have a baby.”

My mouth hung open, like I’d been sucker punched in the stomach. Immediately, I called bullshit.

“We’ve been broken up for months.”

“The last night we spent together,” she said, shaking her head. “It must have been then.”

“No
way,
” I said, folding my arms stubbornly. “Impossible. I mean, what are the chances?”

“Hey,” Janine said, shrugging. “I’ve done the math, and it
had
to have been then. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Why would I believe
that
?” I snorted. “I don’t know who you’ve been spending time with lately.”

“For all I’ve done wrong, honey, I’ve never once wanted to be with anyone else,” Janine said. “You can believe me or not, but it’s yours, Jesse. I promise.”

I felt frantic. I had no idea what to say or do. In a single instant, my entire world had just been turned upside down.

“You and I
can’t
have a baby,” I protested weakly.

“We don’t have any choice,” Janine said.

“We tried this already. It didn’t work. Remember?”

“I’m starting to think that we should give it another chance,” Janine said, patiently. “You know, I don’t think we’ve tried hard enough, yet.”

“No,” I said stubbornly. “I
tried.
I tried damn hard. You know what? I want a paternity test.”

“Oh, fine!” Janine said, the frustration finally rising in her voice. “If you want to be difficult about it, then off we go.”

That week, we drove together in silence to an expensive doctor’s appointment, where a prenatal sampling of Janine’s ripening placenta returned the verdict that I had been fearing all along.

“See?” Janine said triumphantly. “I
told
you it was yours. Didn’t I?”

I slumped forward, in shock. “What the hell are we going to do now?”

“We’ll just have to get along, that’s all.” Janine kissed me on my neck, and looked into my eyes expectantly. “Because, Jesse, we’re going to raise this little baby
together.
”