The Empty Chair Read Free Page B

prepared to go another route if we didn’t have any luck but never talked
exactly
about what that route would be. If I recall, adoption wasn’t entirely ruled out. Kelly was certain motherhood had passed her by (I was certain too) and as a hedge against likely heartbreak she convinced herself that it wasn’t possible, wouldn’t happen. Made her peace. When the kit showed the + sign, it shocked her into bliss. Me too (into bliss). I was a little surprised by that. She said it was a miracle baby and I couldn’t argue.
    Back then, we had the understanding our physical needs would be met outside the partnership. I mean, sex was actually fun—for a while—but once she got pregnant, we were forever done. I knew Kelly was involved with various women over the years but had no idea she pursued men as well. I’m not sure if that would have bothered me or not . . . I mean, another man. I guess it would have, if she didn’t invite me to share! At any rate, we were a “don’t ask, don’t tell” household. If you’re wondering why we stayed together, that’s a little predictable. Better to ask, What forces prevailed to bring us together in the first place? And for what purpose?
    I said it before and I’ll say it again: I only know what I know. And what I don’t know, I’ve learned to leave alone.
    Until now.

    Kelly was an old friend of the Learys’ and liked to tell people our son was named after Tim’s goddaughter, the actress Winona Ryder. Kelly thinks
she
came up with the name—Ryder—but that’s not how I remember it
.
And my ego has nothing to do with it. You see, our son didn’t have a name until the very moment he was born. When he popped out, a name popped in:
Ryder
,
from the Djuna Barnes novel. God, I loved that woman! The mad hermit dyke of Greenwich Village. Lived right across the street from e.e. cummings by the way . . . I know that sounds precious, to name your kid after a Djuna Barnes book—about a monster-dad!—but that’s how it went down,
as my biker friends like to say. I didn’t realize it at the time but I think that when I mentioned it as a possibility, Kelly immediately thought it was some sort of ode to
Winona
—she had a soft spot for glamour and celebrities. She probably loved the idea of being tied into Winona
and
the Learys. When people asked about it she said she liked the karma of the name, as if our son’s fate (and her own) was to be part of a famous clan. Oh, she
basked.
I was just happy she went for it. One of the things I love about “Ryder” is that it’s close to
writer
. And
reader
too.
    My wife—that still sounds weird to me, “my wife,” and it’s funny how it still makes me feel good to say it, that bourgeois part—has always been a serious Buddhist. Me, I’m a dabbler. I told you we met at Spirit Rock but technically
that isn’t true. We’d seen each other a handful of times before on skid row, at the mission in Alameda. Part of the do-gooder crew serving meals to the homeless over the holidays. I was surprised to find an attraction there, on my side anyway. I wasn’t sure what she felt but had an inkling. My hetero radar isn’t completely broken, you know. I guess it was karma, as Kelly would say—that I’d feel an attraction toward this woman that was
physical
, aside from anything else. We didn’t talk much but there was definitely somethin’ going on. We percolated for three years running until we bumped into each other at the retreat. Which brought things to a boil.
    Like a lot of people who become interested in Buddhism, I was traumatized by religion,
in my case the Catholic Church. My big sis and I were both victims. Cheryl got pregnant at 16 and confessed to one of the fathers. He told her there were special things he could do to make sure the baby would never come out. He said God