Mouse is stretched out in the recliner with a bowl of pretzels balanced on her stomach and a bottle of beer in easy reach, while Quentin perches on the sofa playing with the remote, flicking through the cable universe, the sound murmuring on low.
Several more bottles crowd the edge of a coffee table buried in pizza boxes.
“So your Tamara thinks you did not come out of spite?”
Quentin nods desultorily. “Yeah, that’s about it. She always thinks the worst of me. Nothing I do is right. I’ve been afraid to tell her how bad I’m doing. I shoulda gone somewhere with a documentary program.”
“Why didn’t you, Q?”
“I want our marriage to work. It seemed more important for her to be at a good med school. You can do film anywhere. Or so I thought. Anywhere but here.”
“I do not understand why you do not make your own movies? It is supposed to be so cheap to do.”
“Problem is, when I’m supposed to be shooting some stupid still photos I end up making video.”
“That sounds pretty good then Q. Why not just keep that up, then?”
“Truth be told, I’m not doing well with my assignments. I’m flunking out, Mouse. The hell of it is that the classwork and assignments are the opposite of what I need to learn, I need film theory. I’ve already learned what I can by trial and error. You can do any art on your own but you end up re-inventing the wheel.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You make the same mistakes everybody else made before while you figure out what the rules are. A good arts course teaches you what’s gone before, what works, what doesn’t.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah. But because I love Tamara, It seemed easier to not think about how miserable I was. Blow off assignments, let classes slip, smoke up, have a good time. But it’s not a good time anymore and I couldn’ta pissed off Tamara more if I’d tried.”
“What are you going to do? Maybe they would let you do film as independent study?”
“That’s what Natasha said too, so I’ve been looking into it. The problem with that is there’s no film community here.”
Mouse asks, “Is that so important?”
“I think so, yeah. Isn’t it important in English Lit too?”
Mouse nods, “Yes, you’re right, I didn’t think. Discussing the work is very important.”
“Other people learning the same shit, you know? The counselor I talked to said if I managed to pass any courses, I could probably port credits to another school I transfer to.”
“That would be really good then Q. That would solve everything. What does Tamara think?”
“I don’t know, Mouse. I’ve tried texting, calling, email, but she doesn’t answer and she doesn’t come home. Maybe she’s staying at Barb’s, but I’m not sure. She won’t talk to me at all.”
“You need to talk to her Q. What is her schedule today?”
“It’s on the fridge.” Quentin balances the remote on the arm of the sofa and goes into the kitchen. Mouse follows carrying several of the empty beer bottles which she stows in the empty case in the corner of the kitchen. Reading Tamara’s schedule magnetized to the fridge door, Quentin says, “She’s in a lab until five today. I could maybe catch her when she’s done.”
“You must talk to her, Q.”
“Don’t you have a class this afternoon, Mouse?”
“No this is my break day. We find a movie to watch and then it will be time for you to wait for her, yes?”
“Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
“Certainly she will. But she must stop being angry first. You must talk I think. Just now find something to watch. I’ll make some Kool-Aid. Relax now, talk to Tamara at five.”
“That’s not a bad idea Mouse. Let me hook up the hard drive, I think Die Beauty came in.”
“That would be good. I want to see that one because it looks so delightfully creepy.”
Mouse shakes the packet into the pitcher of water, stirring lime Kool-Aid vigorously.
Mouse hears the doorbell ring as she carries the jug into the living room, where she finds Jose and Quentin huddled over the computer.
“Hey Jose, can you move the pizza boxes please?”
Jose grabs the stack of boxes so Mouse can put the pitcher down on the empty spot. Jose standing there holding the boxes, not sure what he’s supposed to do with them. She grins and takes them into the kitchen, stacking them on the over flowing Blue Box for recycling, then grabs three glasses to take back out.
Quentin has the drive hooked up to the television, and now he’s in the recliner. Jose’s on the sofa leaned over the coffee table rolling a joint from the baggie of pot now laying beside the jug.
Quentin says, “Jose’d rather watch Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle instead. It’s supposed to be pretty funny.”
Jose shrugs, “I’m in the mood for a comedy, Mouse.”
“I’m easy.”
Mouse is thinking about the blog post she will write later about the folly of getting married before going to university. She smiles, secure in the knowledge that none of her classmates will bother to read it since she posts exclusively in Hollands. Blogging is excellent grounding for her future as a world renowned journalist.
After pouring the Kool-Aid out into glasses for everyone, Miese stretches out on the sofa. As she slides her feet into Jose’s lap she thinks that some things are better left unblogged. Quentin starts the movie as Jose lights up.
