Ever since I got back with Marvin, I've barely talked to Trina. It's not that I don't want to, but first of all I'be only even seen her once or twice since the baseball game, and second, I have no idea how she feels about this whole situation. I want to ask Jason if he knows, but it feels kind of intrusive, so I decide to come up with an excuse to see her again.

And that's how I end up at her and Mendel's door on Monday afternoon with an overdue wedding gift.

Trina answers the door and is just as surprised to see me as she is to see the gift bag I'm carrying. "Hello, Whizzer," she greets me hesitantly. "What brings you here?"

"I heard that you and Mendel got married, and I thought now that I'm with Marvin again it would be a little rude not to get you a gift."

She nods, eyeing the bag. "Well, we've been married for two years already, but the gesture is much appreciated. Would you like to come in?"

I nod and she steps aside to let me in the door. I set the gift bag down by the couch— it's a salt lamp. I have no idea if they have any use for a salt lamp, but again, this was just my excuse. I glance at Trina, who's looking at me.

"Can I get you anything?" she asks.

"Oh, no, thanks," I say. But the more I think about it, I actually am hungry. Would it be rude to ask for something if I've already declined? "I mean, yes. Well, no, I'll come with you to get it."

"Okay," replies Trina, who looks a little confused but is still the ever welcoming host. We go into the kitchen, where Mendel is draped over the counter, his head in his hands. "Mendel, compose yourself, we have a guest."

Her husband glances in our direction and quickly straightens up. "Oh! Whizzer. Hi. To what do we owe the pleasure?" He reaches out so I shake his hand, and it's sweaty.

"He brought us a wedding gift," Trina tells him in a tone I can't place.

"That's nice." Mendel sighs, and I can tell his mind isn't really on the wedding gift. "Sorry. I'm just so exhausted lately. You know I'm a psychiatrist, right?" he asks me.

"Pretty familiar with it," I respond.

"All these people. They go on and on and on, about their life crises, about these terrible things that are happening—"

"He doesn't want to burden you with these kind of things," Trina cuts in to tell me, shooting a look at Mendel. "Anyway. Why don't we get something to eat?"

I glance between the two of them. "You know what? I'm good. I'll just pick something up on the way home. I don't want to cause you any more trouble—"

"Not at all," Trina assures me. "But in that case, I suppose we should go sit down. And, you know, catch up a little bit?"

"I'm sorry to bring down the mood," Mendel says as we take our seats at the dining table. "I just don't know what to do. Whizzer, have you heard talk of anything that's going on?"

I just shrug. I don't know if I've heard anything, maybe in passing, or maybe at Charlotte and Cordelia's place when Charlotte's complaining about the magazines. But Mendel could be referring to anything. The 80s aren't the brightest time right now.

"Mendel," Trina warns.

"Sorry."

She turns back to me. "I think I'll go get that wedding gift you brought—"

"Oh, don't bother," I reply. "It's just a salt lamp."

Trina sits down and nods. "Well, I'm sure it's a lovely salt lamp."

"So, are you two well acquainted with Cordelia and Charlotte? You know, Marvin's friends?"

"Yeah, we know them pretty well," Mendel replies. "Charlotte and I bond over doctor things."

"Do you."

"And Cordelia is..." He pauses and shares a look with Trina. "Very... creative with her cooking."

"That's the word," Trina says.

I don't know how I expected my visit to go, but it sort of feels like we've hit a dead end. What else is there to talk about with my boyfriend's ex-wife and ex-psychiatrist?

All I really want to know is that things are cool between us. That Trina doesn't still resent me for what happened two years ago. But I can't just ask her that.

"Speaking of Cordelia's food," I begin, to keep the conversation going, "the bar mitzvah's coming up! How fun is that?"

Trina just groans. "It's exhausting. Marvin and I can't agree on anything, and this one's no help." She puts her hand on Mendel's shoulder.

"I'm just trying to give our kid some security since you two are at each other's throats every time we go over!" Mendel protests.

"It's gotten to the point where Jason doesn't even know if he wants a bar mitzvah," Trina tells me. She lets out a sigh. "I'm just looking forward to when all this is over, and Marvin can go on with his life and we can go on with ours."

I open my mouth to say something, but then close it. I'm a part of Marvin's life. Not theirs. And it's not like I should be. But hearing that feels somewhat discouraging. Like I can't even be friends with them?

"It's almost as tiring as me dealing with my clients every day," Mendel chimes in.

Trina glares at him. "Can you let me stay on a subject for one minute without mentioning your clients?"

I feel tension right now. A lot of it. So I clear my throat and start to stand up from the table. "You know, this visit was really fun, but I should probably head out soon. I'll leave you two to..." I gesture around the room. "This."

Trina purses her lips. "All right. Thank you for, uh, the salt lamp."

"Don't mention it." I push my chair in and leave the room. I don't know what changed my mood so greatly. Maybe it was the fact that Trina still wants nothing to do with me, with us. Or maybe it's the constant complaining and arguing between them about Mendel's job. Or maybe it's the fact that I brought a salt lamp, which is such a lame wedding gift, two years too late.

Trina's right. After this bar mitzvah, Marvin and I will go on with our lives and that will be that. As much as it frustrates me that Trina and I won't ever get to talk about this, I'm sure it's all for the better.