Crispin's Case Concluded

Herewith I conclude the case fiction I have presented over the last two Fridays.

When Crispin came to his next session, he had a glow of satisfaction mixed with a distrust of what had happened, or better, what had not happened. He felt satisfied because Pansy had shown up for breakfast and because the encounter had been reasonably smooth. He had maintained his composure and kept the conversation on the plane of banality.

Finally, as the breakfast was concluding, he managed an expression of regret for his behavior: “I have no excuses, but I am really sorry about what happened.” Not the best apology, but Pansy took it well, adding: “I don’t feel like I was the best girlfriend either.”

And so it went. Crispin was disappointed that there had been no resolution, no deep communication on either one’s part. They had, however, agreed to another breakfast, so he felt slightly encouraged. 

At the least, Crispin seemed to have some measure of self-control, even if the idea of breakfast dates seemed rather silly compared with the great love he had lost. 

Ernestine allowed him some self-criticism, and some modification of his excessively inflated self-image. She did not want him to have too much self-pity or self-doubt. She tried to modulate his criticism, pointing out that he must also have been doing something right.

Their work was advancing well. Crispin started feeling like he was back in the game and out of the drama. She tried to remind him that the value of his foray into adult communication did not depend on whether or not he got Pansy back.

But then, after the third breakfast meeting between Crispin and Pansy, her client walked into her office thoroughly shaken-- wild eyed and agitated. He had been awaiting Pansy’s arrival at the Coffee Shop when he looked up to see, not only Pansy, but, standing next to her, with a stern frown, Blake.

“I ran into Blake as I was walking over, so I invited her to join us,” were her words. Crispin nearly swallowed his tongue. “So happy to see you again, Blake” was all he could squeeze out. His mind was in turmoil, assailed by the phrase, “perfidious bitch.” 

Feeling his body tense up and his jaw lock, he rose to offer them their seats. He was glaring at both of them, fact which seemed to amuse them mildly, as he attempted to regain his balance. Were they lovers, was this a test or a trick? The best he could do was offer a couple of mindless remarks about the weather. 

Pansy and Blake seemed pleased with themselves, as though his squirming amused them. They began an easy banter, seemingly continuing the chat they had been having on the street. Crispin felt that he was quickly receding into the wallpaper. He then put on his mental brakes and addressed Blake: “It’s good to see you, Blake. How have you been?” When she did not respond he added a snide addendum: “How are things in the world of flakes?”

“Oh,” she replied, “sales have gone way up since we put a picture of Philippa Norwell, the superstar water polo player on the box. And it was Pansy’s idea. She is so good at what she does.”

Crispin felt that she had just ripped the skin off of one side of his face and was massaging the open wound with sandpaper. He felt that she was talking about having sex with Pansy. He did not feel well.

As he described this colloquy to Ernestine, Crispin gave free reign to his love of sports metaphors. He described a pitcher throwing hard sliders. The best he could do was foul them off. Ernestine was less familiar with baseball terms, so he explained that a hard slider was a pitch that looked like a fastball, coming straight over the plate, only at the last instant to drop down and away, as though it had fallen off a table. Only the most Herculean effort could allow the batter to redirect his swing, hopefully getting enough of it to foul it off. 

Crispin continued to explain that he had ended the breakfast by inviting both of them to join him the next week, same time, same place. They looked a little surprised and offered a tentative yes. Pansy is going to call to confirm. He concluded that he felt that he had made some progress.

Over the next few weeks a reinvigorated Crispin effectively advanced his cause. Blake did not return for any future meetings, though he astutely enquired about her. 

Three weeks after their breakfast menage-a-trois, as he had started to call it, he felt that he could invite her to a performance of the Firebird by the Royal Ballet. A friend had dumped two tickets on him and he knew that Pansy loved the ballet. Ernestine had occasionally remarked that he had rarely considered Pansy’s taste when inviting her out. 

Crispin considered ballet a bore but Pansy loved every minute of it. During her adolescence  she had even thought to pursue a career as a dancer. Seeing that her former love had been acting more rationally, she accepted the invitation. She was not convinced of the wisdom of getting involved with him again, but she was uncertain about whether she wanted to close the book on him definitively.

Thus, the couple drifted into a relationship that represented a substantial improvement over what had been before. Crispin gradually came to his own understanding of the game of courtship, and needed less advice and guidance. Often Ernestine mused to herself that the story would have a happy ending, though she did not consider a trip to the altar to be definitive proof of success.

Thus, she was caught somewhat off balance when, eight months later, Crispin announced that he had decided with Pansy that they were not made for each other. Their bickering and fighting, their prior distancing and regrettable contentiousness, to say nothing of Crispin’s near-delusional jealousy, had merely been an attempt  to fabricate an artificial connection between two people who had little in common and who barely got along.

Ernestine would have preferred a happy ending. It made for a better story. She had suspected that the relationship damage was so severe that there was really no going back. But, she kept it to herself. On this score Crispin needed to find out for himself. And he needed to learn how to function within social situations, without drama and certainly without violence. Somehow or other, he and Pansy had arrived at the best conclusion.

It does not happen everyday, but she put it down in the plus column.

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