Love

Nicholas has friends over: the beautiful Madonna and three other boys that look exactly like Nick, differing only in the severity of their acne. They're all sitting on the couch eating fritos and watching Transformers.
Nick is doing better. His grandfather gave him a car on the day after Madonna broke up with him. It's a 92 Thunderbird, bright red, and he really souped it up. It's kind of a county boy's dream--floor matts with flames, red and black leather seat covers, which is not Nick's dream, but he's happy to have a car. So happy, in fact, that he actually jumped up and down a litle bit, just a teeny little bounce. He asked me, "How long do you think I have to wait to remove the flamey floor mats without making Granddad feel bad?"
So, nothing like a car to balance out a girl, I guess.
I'm so tired.
My orientee had to deal with her first death today. She had a hard time with it. I feel nothing, I think. Just tired. It went smoothly, the patient was elderly and the family withdrew care and within 15 minutes, the patient had passed. The doctor was there to pronounce this time.
Last night both kids were out of the house--Lilly at her best friend's and Nick at a debate tournament so I went out to Jay's. We had a drink with Hunter before we headed out--I told you about him before. Hunter has recently gotten himself trapped into a relationship with Sybil, an old girlfriend from 20 years ago of Jay's (things get incestuous in our town). For the annual pumpkin festival parade, he and Sybil and their kids dressed up as monkeys, and dressed their VW bug as a monkey, too.
"Let me tell you," Hunter says, smacking his reptilian lips, "Sybil makes a pretty sexy monkey."
"I think that's enough." Jay says.
"I mean," Hunter continues, "if Sybil really were a monkey, I would cross species." Sybil's a bit of a grifter--a pretty bird in her mid forties, running out of options, looking for a soft place to land. Never learned how to do anything, never held a job. I know a lot of women like this--and they all seem to end up okay. I'm a little resentful--I've worked so hard to make it by myself. Maybe I should have taken a different tack--but then again, I'm not that pretty. And then again again, who would want to end up with Hunter?
"If I were a monkey," Jay asks me, "would you still love me?"
He never uses the word love.
"Of course. What about if I was something, like a rabbit?"
"I wouldn't fuck you, but I would still love you."
"Would you date other women?"
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
"Are you saying that you are a rabbit, or did you turn into a rabbit. Were you you first?"
"I turned into a rabbit. Sybil cursed me."
"Can you talk?"
"Yes,"
"Okay, then no. I wouldn't date other women. Or at least, I wouldn't bring them back to the house. Because you would yell at me and then they would freak out."
"But you would go to their houses. How would you protect me from the cats while you were away?"
"This is a silly conversation."
"You started it."
"I asked you if you would still love me if I were a monkey , a monkey is a primate. A rabbit is something completely different."
"the issue is unconditional love, not what species I've transformed into."
We stop talking, watch a movie about a guy who starts a movie theater on Fiji, stop watching in the middle, make love.
I'm falling asleep.
"I would still have sex with you, " Jay says, "and I would still love you, even if you did turn into a rabbit."
Well, I think, sometimes you just have to take what you can get, I guess.

That's my 1/2 hour.