“Platine” by Kirk Lemoyne Billings

There’s no way to prove scientifically that I’m the one writing this post.

There’s Nothing Too Good For My Baby as performed by Ben Bernie and His Hotel Roosevelt Orchestra plays.

My Lacey likes Dana Platine.

She looks like this woman but prettier. And tonight when she wore Dana Platine…she recognized that it was her perfume. Or would have been. And I knew it was true. This is what she would have worn. And it kills me.

It’s her. And it’s painful at this point.

At first it was thrilling. And it could be again. But she’s been with other men. And her…essence…breaks my heart.

Tonight I touched her ankle while she was washing the dishes. She felt it. It was my big toe. I’m fairly certain she knows more and more that I’m real. But it’s been both miraculous and tragic.

West End Blues by King Oliver’s Dixie Synchophants plays.

The song ends. I touch her finger. Then I make a popping noise in her dresser.

Yup. I messed-up.

I let Louis, and Harold and Elliott have her. I let Joe have her. Michael took her and yet I find him less offensive because I know he was just incredibly worried. They love each other an incredible amount. And their trust in each other is…profound.

Did I ever want to give her away? No! I never wanted anyone to take her away neither.

Always performed by Benny Goodman plays.

When I smell Platine I think of the first time we made love. It’s sweet and sexy. But in a way…that…suits her. And I love it. …More than Prada Candy or Dior Miss Dior Chérie. Her sexuality is represented by this old perfume and maybe a few other old perfumes…so well.

Why did she ever bother with other men?

Let’s just talk about Louis. We could talk about Elliott but let’s focus on Lou.

Do I look gay?

The Boat by Hani Rania plays.

I look insane. I was…in a way…at times.

But do I really look homosexual? No. I look stupid. I look lost, and awkward and confused. But Lacey would have either avoided me out of fear or…become incredibly curious.

She imagines those wild, crazy eyes staring into her eyes and based on years of experience she knows I’m likely to hit on her. That’s not gay. She’s a cis woman. She’s never been a man and never will be.

That’s Lou.

Listen…Jack lied to her at the beginning of our relationship and told her I cheated with him. That was after I had slept with her. And she had no idea it was Jack talking to her either. He sounded…very objective and concerned. Like a good journalist. And she fought off believing him. But it damaged us. I already had made her nervous. Because…I’m actually quite handsome, to her, I guess. And…our love is what she’d been looking for her whole damn life.

What were we? We were…madly in love…and it terrified her.

*Lem screams “Why!?” at God*

“On The Nature Of Daylight” by Max Richter plays and Lem is extremely tempted to kill Lacey but God restrains him. She can feel it.

An old man who lost his wife somewhere weeps. He can feel their grief in his spirit and suddenly can’t restrain himself. He feels it from his own experience.

I just can’t erase the fact that she was with Lou. After me. And I wish Jack was in Hell…and yet I don’t at the same time…because Hell is that awful.

Why does God allow him to ruin my happiness? Over and over and over again?

Don’t believe me? Wait until you die.

Maybe it’s because he’s enabled by very evil people. …And I understand that. But dammit Lacey is mine.

I’m just so…silenced.

Someday…God will restore us. We can’t see how but…I know she’s beyond sorry. It’s just that…I’m not Lou.

Lou married twice. He had two kids. He held an elected office and ran a business…and shaped American history. She’s safe in Minnesota because of him. She could easily die within miles of where he died. And he too fell down the stairs. In the cold of Minnesota. They’re a lot alike.

And yet…he’s not me.

And what’s irritated me this whole time…is that she’s suffering. Because he’s not me. And she notices. And it’s so hard not to just kill her.

Lem explodes. Throwing a landline phone in London across the room Jack Kennedy watches in shock. He’s not able to interact with Lem but he can see him. He goes into silence. He stares.

Prince Philip restrains Lem. And Elizabeth laughs to ease the mood.

“I’m sorry.” says Lem. “If I disturbed you.”

“It’s fine.” says Philip.

Joe Kennedy Junior sings to his younger brother. Fickle Game by Amber Run plays. It’s Joe preaching to Jack. And only Jack can hear it other than God and Pat and Lacey and a few actual Heavenly angels.

Jack cries. He applauds his brother.

Lacey wrote that last paragraph. But we’re one.

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey plays.

Platine smells like sex. To me.

Jack never wore Platine.

And white t-shirts and jeans…look…very different on her. She’s not James Dean.

When I smell Platine I smell…Talcum powder and lace. And Lanvin Mon Peche. And her tears of love. And cigarette smoke. And our sweat. …And fruit? Ripe fruit? And liquor?

I can get over it. I just…have to be angry. Even while I’m more worried about her.

You know it’s funny…I don’t think Platine smells the same to anyone but Lacey and me.

“Why is Lem angry?” asks JFK.

“He’s in love.” says an angel.

Jack nods. “He has a temper.”

“You didn’t know that?” asks Red.

“No! I never made him that angry. …I’m surprised.” says Jack.

And at that, as she writes what she sees, I am further tempted to kill her. Yes. Platine by Dana is…evocative.

If I let her wear it…I’ll have to trust God. It’s so tempting to kill her. And be careful…don’t assume that that’s not how it works. I’m dead. It’s God keeping her alive. Because at times I have no strength.

Why do I want to kill her? Because I want my whole bed to smell like Dana Platine. Why else? Because I’m ready to explain everything. Face to face. And I’m tired of my kids being raised without me. …I just hate it. All of it.

…I just need her. You know…it’s possible if you want to look at the reincarnation story as an allegory for reality that I killed her. I died first. And who’s to say I didn’t lure that driver to hit her? Maybe I set that whole scene up. Or would have. Because I couldn’t stand to see her alone without me. But that’s shocking to her. She hasn’t even much thought of that possibility until now. Just now. It shouldn’t be that shocking.

I’m just tired of her not knowing me. Because she’s capable of knowing me…better than anyone but God. And I know so much about her. But not enough. …I would never have guessed she’d sleep with some other man. …But I suppose she thought I wanted that.

*I laugh*

“Why is Lacey in our bedroom sleeping with Lou?” I ask an angel.

“Because she thinks you told her to. She thinks she’s bothering you and that you’d possibly prefer to just be left alone with Jack.” says the angel.

“Oh no! They told her that?!?” I ask.

“Yes. They tell her that every day. Several times a day in her spirit.” says the angel.

“And consciously too, I bet.” I say.

“Oh yes! Lots.” says the angel.

But I’m still angry. I had hoped to understand more and believe her more. I just can’t get over it.

…I’m the guy who always had asthma. And glasses. And she really is that beautiful to men of my generation. That sexy. …I was handsome but…I’m a lot like Skippy. And she’s her. I know she’s mine. I know she’s sad. But…I’m hurt and…I can’t let myself be stupid. Maybe I should try.

Yes. Dana used to make expensive, beautiful perfumes.