As the old year gave way to the new one, Kathleen found herself with a lot of free time on her hands.
For one thing, she no longer had a job. After Hawaii, she had never even bothered returning to the office. “You can kiss any references goodbye,” Sam said when he found out she hadn't given two weeks’ notice. It didn't matter: her sisters had asked her to come back to work for them and she had said she would, after a few more weeks of vacation.
So her days weren't busy, but neither were her nights. Although both Lucy and Sari continued to show up faithfully at the Sunday morning knitting circle, once the evening rolled around, they almost always had plans with their new boyfriends. They often invited her to join them, but Kathleen had never much liked being the odd man out, despite-or because of-all her childhood experience in that role.
Getting a boyfriend of her own would have solved that problem, but since the whole Kevin thing Kathleen hadn't felt much like going out to bars and meeting new guys. Sometimes at night she remembered that she might have been married at this moment-would have been, if her friends hadn't interceded-and her heart would start pounding with fear. It wasn't the thought of marriage itself that was so scary-just the realization that, left on her own, she was capable of making such a hugely bad decision. How could she have come that close to marrying Kevin, when now she didn't even miss him? She felt that, for the moment at least, she should avoid putting herself in the position of making more mistakes.
So she spent her days sleeping late, running until she was worn out, napping, grabbing something to eat, then knitting for hours in front of Sam's TV set, whether he was home or not. Her choice of project echoed her newfound sobriety: she was knitting a fisherman-style throw made out of an expensive brown cashmere mix.
She hadn't intended to make something so uncharacteristic, had, in fact, gone to the yarn store with the intention of knitting herself a little glittery evening bag with lots of fluffy fringe on top, but she had seen the yarn piled up in a barrel and the sight and touch of it had called to her in some weird way and she had leafed through all of the yarn books and magazines at the store until she found a pattern that seemed right for it. It had cost a fortune, but she wasn't spending money on going out, so she figured she could spring for it.
The growing afghan felt warm and soft as it piled up on her lap. She frequently admired how well the color went with Sam's den and thought that maybe she would just leave it there when she was finished-for her own use, of course. She spent a lot of time there.
The afghan was one more element to add to the general comfort and coziness of Sam's den, and Kathleen almost always found herself lingering there on long dark winter evenings, watching TV-turning the volume down or off when Sam was around, since he would only join her there if he could work- and on equally long Sunday afternoons, when she'd lie on the sofa lazily skimming the Style and Art sections of the newspaper while Sam read all the business articles sitting upright in the leather armchair. At some point they would realize they were hungry, and Sam would go into the kitchen, where a half an hour later the smell of garlic or roasting chicken would reach out and pull Kathleen in there with him to chop up vegetables or set the table or do something equally unchallenging and basic that he would still accuse her of somehow botching up and insist on redoing himself.
One late afternoon, early in February, Kathleen let herself into Sam's apartment. He wasn't back from work yet. She foraged through his cabinets, found a bag of pistachios and a bottle of iced tea, took her provisions into the den, and turned on the TV. There wasn't anything good on, but she had nothing else to do, so she stayed where she was, cracking pistachios and dropping their shells on the shiny dark wood coffee table, while she flipped aimlessly through the channels.
She intended to clean up the mess she'd made, but the drone of the changing channels made her sleepy, and she snuggled down into the length of the sofa, thinking she'd just rest a few minutes before getting a towel.
She woke up when Sam came into the den. “I thought I heard the TV,” he said. He flicked on the lights. It had grown dark while she slept.
“Hi,” she said hoarsely, blinking and pushing herself into a sitting position. “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.” He looked down at her. “Were you asleep?”
“I’m not sure. But it was five-thirty just a few seconds ago, so maybe.” She yawned.
His eyes fell on the coffee table. “Oh, for Christ's sake, Kathleen,” he said. “There are shells everywhere.”
“I’ll clean it up.” She arched her back in a big stretch that ended with a grunt of pleasure. “I’m hungry. What are we having for dinner?”
“You're on your own tonight,” he said. “I’m heading out in a few minutes. You can stay if you want to, but you'll have to cook for yourself. I think there's some pasta left from last night.”
“Where are you going?”
“A Thai restaurant in Santa Monica.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m meeting people.”
“Who?”
“Patricia and a couple of her friends.”
Kathleen made a face. “Oh, come on.”
“Come on what?”
“Don't go out with her.” She was sort of joking, but sort of not. She really didn't want him to go. She wanted him to stay there with her like he usually did. His going out felt like a betrayal.
“I can't cook you dinner every night, Kathleen,” he said. He adjusted his right sleeve cuff minutely. “Much as I’d like to spend all my free time waiting on you hand and foot, I do occasionally like to broaden my horizons.”
“I don't care about the food.” She stood up. “I’m just saying you shouldn't keep going out with Patricia.”
“Why not? I enjoy her company. And it gets me out.”
She took a step toward him. “But don't you think it's time you moved on?”
“’Moved on?”
“To still be clinging to your ex-wife…” She shook her head.
“Come on, Sam. I’ve never seen you with anyone else. But you're not that old.”
“Thank you.”
“You know what I mean.” Her hair had fallen into her eyes, and she shoved a couple of strands behind her ears with fingers that twitched with a sudden nervousness. “You're still in the game. Or could be if you tried. It's time you found someone new, put some excitement into your life.”
“I like that you're giving me advice about my love life,” Sam said, unsmiling. “You sure you're an expert on how to do it right?”
“I never said I was an expert, but at least I know how to move on.”
“You only know how to move on,” he said. “From what I’ve seen.
Their eyes met directly for the first time, and Kathleen said, “Don't knock it until you've tried it.”
“It's time for you to go.” She had never heard his voice unsteady before. “I have to finish getting ready.”
“No, you don't,” she said. “Stay with me tonight, Sam.” She came closer, a little scared of him, but confident in her youth and her beauty and the strength of her long arms and legs. They'd never failed her before.
He didn't retreat, but he didn't welcome her, either, just held his ground. “Go away, Kathleen. Before you ruin everything.”
She laughed a little. “I’m not going to ruin anything. This is a good idea. It'll be fun.”
“Go away,” he said again and when she kept advancing on him he turned away from her.
She caught at his arm. She was almost his height and when she made him face her, their eyes were at a level. “What are you afraid of?”
There was a pause. Then: “Losing this” he said quietly. “Not having you here to mess up my place and watch TV.”
Her heart suddenly thumped. “That's important to you?”
“Maybe,” he said in a voice so low she could barely hear him.
She drew closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body near her skin. She was only wearing shorts and a tank top, and she was cold, but he would be warm against her, she knew. “You won't lose anything,” she said. “This will be even better. I promise.” She caught him around the neck and put her mouth against his. It felt wrong-like she was breaking the rules.
She liked that feeling.
He responded the way she knew he would, his mouth first closed and uncertain against hers and then finally giving in to her insistence. She opened her eyes just in time to see him close his, and triumph flashed through her. She pressed herself against him.
But then he was pulling back, away from her. He pushed her to arm's distance. “I just can't help wondering,” he said, “whether I left a bank statement lying open around here recently.”
“What?”
“I’m talking about you figuring out that I’m as rich as Kevin Porter.”
She thought he was joking. She laughed a little. “Nothing wrong with that,” she said and reached for him again.
This time, there was real anger in the shove he gave her. “Jesus Christ, Kathleen, what kind of an idiot do you think I am?”
She stumbled but caught herself against the back of a chair.“What are you talking about?”
“You really expect me to believe that a beautiful girl twenty years my junior with no income who's already told me she's on the make-” He stopped and shook his head hard, like he was getting rid of something buzzing around it. “You really expect me to believe that she-that you-have anything but money on your mind?”
“It's not like that,” she said. Horrified. “I’m not like that.”
“The hell you're not,” he said. “You lay on that sofa, right there-what was it, three months ago, four months ago?-and you told me you were exactly that way. Did you think I’d forget? Or were you just thinking that I’m so old and pathetic I wouldn't care? That I’d just be grateful for whatever I got from you? Even if I had to pay for it?”
“Stop it,” she said. “You know I wasn't thinking anything like that.”
“I can't promise you Tiffany necklaces,” he said. “Or whatever else it is you might be hoping for.” “I don't care about that stuff-”
“I’ve always been reluctant to buy myself a girlfriend. There are better investments.”
“You are an idiot,” Kathleen said, struggling to find her voice and her balance and something to say that would throw it all back at him. “But not the way you think. You're an idiot because you don't even see that this is for real, that I mean it-”
“I’m the idiot?” he said. “You're the one who had to ruin everything, even after I warned you not to.”
“You've ruined everything, not me.”
“We can at least agree that we're done here,” he said. “Say goodbye, Kathleen. And get the hell out of my apartment.”
“With pleasure,” she said and fled.
Back downstairs, her only thought was that she had to get out, had to move, had to do something-anything-to stop thinking about what had just happened. She threw on a jacket and running shoes and left the apartment.
When the elevator door opened, Sam was inside, wearing an overcoat. So he had just calmly continued to get ready to go out, even after all that. It made her hate him.
Their eyes met and Kathleen took a step back, but the elevator man was waiting and gestured her in impatiently. So she lifted her chin and walked in without a word, turning her back on Sam and staring blindly at the display of floor numbers.
They descended to the lobby in silence. Even the elevator man didn't bother announcing their arrival as he sometimes did, just pulled the doors open and signaled her out. Sam stayed on for the parking level.
As she stepped out of the elevator, she heard Sam say, “Kathleen.”
“What?” She turned slightly toward him but kept her head averted.
“It's already dark out. Are you going running?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Keep to well-lit places, will you?”
She didn't bother to respond to that, just walked out.
But it made her furious that he would pretend he cared about her safety-after having made her feel like a piece of shit just a few minutes earlier-and that fury kept her pounding along the pavement for several miles, miles during which blocks and buildings passed in a blur and she didn't even think she had a destination, didn't know where she was or where she was going, until she looked up and realized she was on Sari's block and had been heading there all that time, her feet apparently knowing what it took her brain a few minutes longer to process-that she needed a friend to comfort her.
Fortunately Sari was home from work, getting ready to go over to Jason's house. She immediately called him to cancel their plans. Three hours, a bottle of wine, and a few tears later, Kathleen was able to fall asleep on the floor of Sari's apartment. But the hurt waited patiently all night for her to wake up and was there to greet her in the morning.
One day at the end of February, Sari stopped by her parents’ house to ask her mother if she could throw a small brunch for her friends there on the following Sunday. “My apartment's too small to have more than one or two people over,” she said. “And I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. I’ll do all the work and clean up afterward. All you'll have to do is sit and eat.”
“I’m not sure if all that commotion will be good for your brother,” Eloise said.
“There won't be that many of us,” Sari said. “And he can always go into the other room to watch TV if he feels overwhelmed.”
“It'll be fun,” said Jason, who had come with her.
“Will you be there?” Eloise said.
“Of course,” he said. “I go wherever Sari goes. Plus it's always a pleasure coming to see you. And I make a mean mimosa, Eloise. Just wait till you try it.”
Eloise smiled and gave in.
The second they were in the car, Sari said to Jason, “You should be ashamed of yourself. ‘It's such a pleasure seeing you and I make a mean mimosa.’ You manipulative little-”
“You love that I can get your mother to do whatever I want.”
“I’m counting on it,” she said with a grin, and he leaned over and kissed the grin right off her face and made it go down deep where it meant something.
So a week later there they were at Sari's house-the three knitting friends and David Lee and Jason and Zack. Sari had brought all the food-fruit, bagels and muffins, and, of course, champagne and orange juice to make mimosas-and they all lingered at the table for a while, lazily chatting, except for Sari's dad, who had disappeared into the bedroom as soon as he was done eating, and Charlie, who ate a couple of bagels and then went to watch TV.
“How are your sisters doing, Kathleen?” Eloise asked. “The twins?” She was on her best behavior, playing the gracious hostess.
“They're okay,” Kathleen said. “They had kind of a big fight recently, but they're doing better now. For a while, they weren't even talking to each other. They're back to talking now, which is a good thing since they're in preproduction on a new movie, but they're not the friends they used to be.”
“So they're going to keep working together?” Lucy asked.
“They don't have a choice,” Kathleen said. “They're a gimmick. Which means they're stuck together, no matter how much they might come to hate each other.”
“That's the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard,” David said.
“Tell me about it,” Kathleen said. “In the end, I may be the lucky one of us three-I mean, I may not be famous, but at least I’m my own person.”
“Says the girl who's going back to work for her sisters,” Lucy said.
“Yeah, I know,” Kathleen said with a sigh. “I ran out of options. And money.”
“What kind of work will you be doing for them?” David asked.
“Same as I used to,” Kathleen said. “Sort of in-house assistant to their PR person. You know, planning parties and making phone calls and stuff. It was actually kind of fun. Best job I ever had.”
“You've only ever had two jobs,” Lucy said.
“Yeah, and this one was the better one.”
“Are you all moved out of your apartment yet?” Sari asked, looking up. She was holding Zack on her lap, trying to get him to taste a slice of melon.
“Sort of. I’m basically living at the McMansion these days, but I still have some stuff over at the apartment.”
“You should go get it,” Sari said. “Time to just be done with that place and everything that goes with it.”
“I know. I just can't seem to get myself over there.” Their eyes met. “I’ll do it,” Kathleen said. “Soon.” She balled up her napkin and dropped it on the table. “Excuse me.” She rose from the table and left the room.
Jason said, “May I pour you another mimosa, Eloise?”
“Thank you, darling.” She held her glass out to him. “You were right, by the way. These are absolutely delicious.”
There was a giggle from the other side of the table and they all turned. Sari was playing a game with Zack-she'd offer him a grape, and then, when he'd open his mouth to eat it, she'd pull it away and pretend to put it in her own mouth. Zack found it all hysterically funny. It was hard to watch them and not smile. So they all smiled and then Lucy said, “Oh, hey, did I tell you guys we're looking at houses?”
“Wow.” Sari stopped playing for a moment, her hand paused in midair. “You can afford a house?”
“Not to buy-just to rent. We want a yard so we can get dogs.”
“Dogs?” Jason repeated. “Plural?”
“Two of them. Preferably siblings from the same litter. So they'll have company even if we have to work late.”
“Don't you have three cats already?” Sari said. “Every time I talk to you, it's like, ‘Got another one.’ I’m going to start sneezing just at the sight of you pretty soon.” Zack tugged at her hand and pulled it toward him, pretending he was going to eat the grape, then shoved the hand back in the direction of Sari's mouth. She laughed and said, “Good playing, Zack.”
Her mother said, “Sari's always had bad allergies.”
“Well, allergies aside, as far as I’m concerned you can't have too many pets,” Lucy said.
“Yeah, you can,” Sari said.
“Not if you're rescuing them from a shelter.”
“They still poop, even if they're from a shelter.”
“Excuse me,” her mother said. “Not at the dinner table.”
“Is poop a bad word?” Sari said. “I thought I was being polite.”
“What about becoming a vet?” Jason asked Lucy. “Didn't you say you were thinking about that?”
“Yeah, I was-for about two seconds. I’d really rather do research. I like what I do. So I’m just going to keep rescuing pets one at a time and get all my animal ya-yas out that way. Will you all excuse me a moment?”
“Of course,” Eloise said, and Lucy got up and left the room.
“Hey, Mom,” Sari said quickly. “I told you that Jen's pregnant, right?”
“Jen who?” asked Eloise, watching as Jason topped off her glass again.
“My friend from college. Kind of frizzy-haired and short?”
“Look who's calling somebody short,” Jason said. He was over a foot taller than Sari.
“Oh, yes,” Eloise said. “She came with you once to visit. She brought laundry.”
“No, actually, I brought laundry but I told you it was hers so you wouldn't get mad at me. Anyway, she just found out she's having a boy.”
“Life's greatest adventure,” Jason said.
“I wouldn't mind being a grandmother,” Eloise said. “I always thought I would be by my age. But God had a different plan in mind.” She sipped delicately but effectively at her drink.
As soon she put her glass back down on the table, Jason refilled it. “My mother hasn't taken to the grandparent thing all that happily,” he said as he poured. “The day she found out Denise was pregnant, she scheduled a facelift.”
“Think of how great she'd look if you'd had more kids,” David said.
“As it is, there's not a wrinkle on her.”
“Zack's getting a little restless,” Sari said, standing up with him in her arms. “I’m going to take him on back so he can watch some TV with Charlie. Excuse us.”
Her mother turned toward Sari as if she were about to say something, but just then David said, “So, Eloise, Lucy told me this is the house that Sari grew up in. How long have you lived here exactly?”
Eloise swiveled back to him, and Sari and Zack slipped out of the room.
“Let's see,” Eloise said, pursing her lips. “Sari's what? Twenty-eight? But we haven't been here her whole life-for the first few years, we rented a little bungalow in Westwood. But once the kids were a little older and we had some money saved up, we found this house and fell in love with it. That must have been about twenty-three years ago. We had to stretch to buy it back then, but I really think it was the best investment we could have made.”
“Absolutely,” David said. “Even just looking at houses to rent, I can't believe how expensive real estate has gotten in Southern California.” There was a noise in the hallway. He raised his voice slightly. “This mimosa is really good. I don'teven know what's in it. How do you make a mimosa, anyway, Jason?”
“You just mix champagne and orange juice,” Jason said, more loudly than was necessary given that David was sitting right across from him. “The trick is to get the proportions right. Not everyone agrees what those are.”
“Interesting,” said David.
“You don't want too much orange juice,” Jason said. “But then you don't want too much champagne. May I fill your glass, Eloise?” She nodded, and while he was filling it, Jason said, “Hey, David, I’ve never quite understood the kind of research you and Lucy are involved with. Could you explain it in detail to me?” David proceeded to do his best. Neither man seemed to notice that none of the women had come back into the room.
But Sari's mother did. It took a while, but she did. She looked around the table and interrupted David's rather lengthy discussion of the adrenal gland in Rattus norvegicus to say suddenly, “What's going on? Where is everyone?”
“What? We're not enough for you?” David said jovially, indicating himself and Jason. “Guess I’ve been a little boring, going on about all my experiments and everything-”
“No, no, not at all,” Eloise said absently. “But where are the girls? Why aren't they at the table anymore?”
“Oh,” Jason said, “you know the way those three are. They probably started talking about something and forgot to come back in.”
“Or else they're knitting,” David said. “Those girls and their knitting-it's not a hobby, it's an obsession.”
“Ha,” said Eloise. She patted her hair carefully, even though there wasn't a strand out of place. “You're probably right.”
Actually, for once the girls weren't knitting, and the men knew it. But their job was to keep Eloise distracted. It was all part of THE PLAN, which had been hatched several weeks earlier at a Sunday knitting circle when Sari mentioned that she had taken Jason to meet her family, and her mother had fallen all over him.
“I’ve never seen her like that before,” Sari said. “She was civil all night long. The second she'd start going off into one of her insane rants, Jason would smile at her and change the subject, and she'd just let him. It's a little weird-I mean, she was practically flirting with him-but I’m going with it. Makes it much easier to be around her.”
Lucy bent over her work, her brow creased. She had finished the hat a while ago and was now knitting a mouse toy for David the kitten. She knit for another minute in thoughtful silence, and then she looked up. “Hey, Sari?” she said. “I have an idea.”
And that's when they decided to kidnap Charlie.
Toward that end, the girls had quietly slipped away from the table one by one-or two, in Sari's case, since she was carrying Zack in her arms-and reconvened in the family room.
Sari sat down next to Charlie, with Zack perched on her knee. “Hey, Charlie?” she said. “I’m going to take you out, just for a little while. I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
“I don't want to go,” Charlie said, staring at the TV.
“There'll be ice cream,” she said.
That got his interest. Charlie liked ice cream. “What place?”
“Ben & Jerry's.”
He absorbed that. “Can I have hot fudge?”
“Absolutely.”
“I want to eat it here.”
“No,” Sari said. “We have to go out to get it.”
“You go.”
“You have to come with me.”
Again, he thought for a moment. “I don't want mint ice cream,” he said. “That's spicy.”
“No mint,” Sari said. She squeezed Zack. “How about you, kiddo? You want ice cream?”
“You want ice cream,” said Zack, who was prone to be echolalic these days.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sari handed Zack to Kathleen, flicked the TV off with the remote, and held her hand out to Charlie. He took it and she hoisted him-with some difficulty-to his feet. “Let's go,” she said.
“Hey, look,” Kathleen said to Lucy as they moved toward the door. “I’m holding a baby. Do I look like a total mom?”
“Just don't drop him,” Lucy said. “And he's not a baby. He's a kid.”
“Oh, what's the difference?” Kathleen said. They followed Sari and Charlie out of the family room, then crept quietly through the house to the front door. They could hear the men desperately chatting away to Eloise in the dining room.
“Listen to them,” Lucy whispered to Kathleen. “Aren't they good guys?”
“Sure, rub it in.” Kathleen shifted Zack over to her other hip. “You and Sari have the best boyfriends ever and I have no one in my life. Are you happy?”
“Deliriously,” Lucy said. “Thanks for asking.”
Charlie hesitated at the front door. “Just ice cream, right?” he said suspiciously. “No doctor?”
“No doctor,” Sari said. “Why? Do they bribe you with ice cream when they take you to the doctor?”
“I don't know,” he said.
“No doctor, no mint ice cream,” Sari said. “Just lots of hot fudge and a friend.”
“Okay,” he said and held her hand as they walked out of the house.
As planned, Ellen was waiting for them at Ben & Jerry's, sitting at a table near the front window.
She rose to greet them as they all came inside.
“This is my friend Ellen,” Sari told Charlie. “Say hi to her and shake her hand.”
“Hi,” he said and shook her hand.
Everyone else was introduced and then Ellen asked Charlie what kind of ice cream he wanted.
“Not mint,” he said.
“All right,” she said. “They have lots of flavors that aren't mint. Come with me so you can order for yourself.” They walked over to the counter together. The others could see her prompting Charlie to speak directly to the ice cream scooper.
“So that's Ellen,” Lucy said. “Nice to finally meet her. She's not exactly what I pictured.”
“I thought she'd have short gray hair and wear a tweed suit,” Kathleen said. “But she's kind of a babe. For an old lady.”
“She's not that old.” Sari gave Zack's hand a squeeze. “Hey, guys, do you think in a parallel universe Ellen's my mother?”
“Yeah, and you're my sister,” Kathleen said. “In the perfect parallel universe.”
“What about me?” Lucy said. “Am I your sister, too?”
“Yeah,” Kathleen said. “You're the annoying much older one who's always telling us to get out of her room.”
“That's because you always mess up my stuff.”
“Come on, Zack,” Sari said. “Let's go get you some ice cream.”
“Just stay away from the mint,” Lucy said. “That stuff will kill you.”
Sari took Zack to the counter, while the other two pulled up some extra chairs to a table, and then they all sat down with the ice cream.
“Zack looks pretty comfortable on your lap,” Lucy said to Sari.
“He spends a lot of time here.”
“We all thought it was Jason you were in love with.”
“Nope. It was always this guy.” Sari cuddled him close. He had an ice cream cone, which he was steadily licking in the same spot, over and over again.
“So, Charlie,” Ellen said, “Sari tells me you like movies a lot. Especially science fiction movies.”
“Yeah.” He dug into his ice cream. There was, as promised, hot fudge on top.
“I want to see how much you know about movies,” Ellen said. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”
“Okay.” He didn't look up from his ice cream.
Ellen said, “Who was Luke Skywalker's father?”
“Darth Vader,” he said. “Of course.”
“Good job. Who was his sister?”
Another spoonful of ice cream went into his mouth. “Princess Leia.”
“With the bun-bun hair,” Kathleen said.
“Shush,” said Sari, watching Charlie. He was methodically eating his ice cream, but he was definitely also listening pretty carefully to Ellen.
“What was the name of the elf in the Lord of the Rings movies?” Ellen said.
“Legolas,” he said. “And Gimli is the dwarf and Gandalf is the wizard and the hobbits are Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and Sam. Frodo has the ring.”
“Good,” she said. “Do you know this much about a lot of movies?”
“I know a lot more than that,” Charlie said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Those were easy questions. They were kind of stupid.”
“Charlie!” Sari said.
“No, he's right,” Ellen said “I don't know enough about these movies to ask really good questions, Charlie. I’m sorry. But I’m impressed with how much you know. And there's a reason I was asking you these questions. I have a friend who owns a video store. Do you know what that is?”
“You get movies there,” Charlie said.
“That's right,” Ellen said. “You rent movies there. And my friend told me he needs someone to help him out, someone who knows a lot about movies.”
“Help him out?” Charlie repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, answer people's questions about movies. Like, if someone came in and said, ‘What's that movie with Will Smith where aliens come and try to take over the earth?’ then he needs someone who could say…” She waited.
“ Independence Day,” Charlie said.
“Exactly,” Ellen said, beaming. “And he also needs someone to help put movies back in the right places on the shelves and to restock things like candy and popcorn.”
“Restock?” Charlie repeated. Sari had never seen him question a word before-he usually ignored things that he didn't understand, but he was following this conversation eagerly. He had even stopped eating the ice cream, though he stayed hunched over it protectively.
“ ‘Restock’ means to put more out on the shelves. So my friend asked me if I knew anyone who could help him, and Sari told me she thought you would be really good at a job like that.”
“It's a job?” Charlie said.
“Yes,” Ellen said. “It's a job and you'd get paid for doing it.”
Charlie looked at Sari. She said, “I think you'd really like working there, Charlie. And you could buy all sorts of things for yourself with the money you made. It would be your money.”
“I don't know,” he said. “Does my mom say okay?”
“She will,” Sari said, and her eyes met Ellen's.
“Yes, she will,” Ellen said with a determined nod and Sari thought, Maybe this could actually happen. Ellen turned back to Charlie. “Now, Charlie, if you really want to have an adult job, you have to be responsible about your appearance and your behavior. You'll have to take a shower and shave every day.”
“My mother shaves me,” Charlie said.
“It's time you learned to shave yourself.”
“She says it's dangerous.”
“Not if you do it right. I can teach you. And you'll have to dress appropriately. Do you know what that means?”
“Sort of.”
She gestured toward the baggy sweatpants and the too-tight T-shirt he wore over his bulging stomach. “You'll need real pants. Some plain khaki ones would be nice and neat. And you need to wear shirts with buttons. Sari can take you shopping and help you get the right clothes. You'll want to look nice for your job interview.”
“Okay,” he said.
“And when you're at work, you have to be polite to everyone and not get upset about anything. That's very important.”
“Okay.”
Ellen smiled at him. “I like your attitude,” she said. “I think you're going to make a wonderful employee.”
“Yes,” he said. He went back to spooning up his ice cream. Some collected at the corners of his mouth, but he didn't seem to notice.
“Sari?” Lucy said. “I don't want to interfere, and I know you're the child expert here, but I’m fairly certain that if you don't do something soon, Zack's ice cream is going to drip all over both of you.”
“Oops,” Sari said, and caught up Zack's wrist, swiftly bringing his cone up to her mouth. She licked the edge in one long circular motion.
“Wow,” Kathleen said. “Nice tongue moves. That Jason is one lucky guy.”
“My boss is sitting next to you!” Sari said, but Ellen was laughing.
They couldn't stay much longer-if Eloise found out they were gone, there was no way of knowing how she'd react, and no one wanted the guys to have to deal with the fallout.
While Charlie and Zack finished their ice cream, Sari walked Ellen to the door.
“Thank you,” she said. “Oh, Ellen, thank you.”
“Don't be silly,” Ellen said. “Like this is anything but a pleasure for me. Sari, if we can make things better for your brother-”
“I know,” said Sari. “I know.” And found she was crying. Ellen hugged her tightly before saying goodbye. Sari watched her walk away. Even through her tears, she could see that Ellen had a huge run down the back of her black tights and that her slip showed below the hem of her dress.
She was the most beautiful, perfect woman Sari had ever seen.
Eloise realized they were all gone about fifteen minutes before they got back. The men tried to keep her in the dining room, but eventually she insisted on getting up to clear the table, and then started calling to the girls to come help her… and finally went looking for them and realized that they weren't anywhere in the house. And that Charlie was gone, too.
“They're all missing!” she said, with some alarm.
Jason hit himself in the forehead. “Oh, that's right-I totally forgot-Sari said she was thinking of taking Zack and Charlie out for ice cream. They must have done that. I’m sure they'll be back any minute. Want me to call her on the cell?”
“Sari should have asked me,” Eloise said. Her brows had come together. “I don't like Charlie to go out without me. He gets very nervous.”
“I’ll tell her that when she gets back,” Jason said. He took her arm. “But don't worry about it-I’m sure they're fine. Let's go sit in the living room and wait for them.”
The men did what they could to entertain Eloise with their conversation, but she was less distractible now, and her eyes stayed fixed on the front door.
When the girls and Charlie finally walked in, Eloise jumped to her feet. “There you are!” she said. “You didn't tell me you were going out.”
“Sorry.” Sari put Zack down and he ran to his father, who picked him up and gave him a hug. “We went out for ice cream. It was fun, wasn't it, Charlie?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to watch some movies now. I have to get ready for my job.” And he went into the TV room.
“What did he say?” Eloise whipped her head around. “A job? Sari, what have you been saying to the poor boy?”
“Nothing,” Sari said. “It's just… we ran into Ellen, my boss-”
“Oh, no,” Eloise said, clutching at her heart. She took a staggering step backward. “You wouldn't.”
“We had ice cream,” Lucy said, coming forward. “That was it, Mrs. Hill. And Charlie talked about movies a lot. He really loves movies.”
Eloise stared at her. “I know he likes movies,” she said. “But-”
“He was really happy,” Kathleen said, also stepping up. “Honestly, if you had seen how happy Charlie was, eating his ice cream and talking about movies, you wouldn't have worried at all.”
“We just want him to have fun,” Sari said. “And to be part of something. The job would be at a video store, which you have to admit he'd love. He's so excited at the idea of it-”
“He doesn't know what could happen out there,” her mother said. “I know. I know how cruel the world can be, how vicious people are. And I thought you did, too.”
Jason put a gentle hand on her arm. “Give this a chance,” he said. “Sari just wants what's best for Charlie.”
“I’m his mother,” Eloise said. “I know what's best.”
“And I’m his sister,” Sari said. “I love him as much as you do.”
“I can't let him go out in the world unprotected. I can't. It would be like sending a lamb out to be eaten by wolves.”
“I think it's a good idea,” said a voice from behind them all. Everyone turned around. Sari's father was standing in the hallway that led to the back bedroom. “He should try getting a job like other men his age. Why not?”
“You don't know anything about this,” Eloise said.
“I know that grown men get jobs,” her husband said. “I’dlike to see my thirty-year-old son get up off the sofa and give it a try.”
Eloise opened her mouth to say something, but there were too many people circled around her, too many eyes watching her, too many faces waiting. She held up her hands, more like she was warding something off than in surrender. “If he gets hurt, it'll be your fault, Sari.”
“He won't get hurt,” Sari said. “Not this time.”
“We'll be looking out for him,” Jason said, guiding Eloise into a chair and down into a seated position. “I promise.”
She clutched at his arm. “You, at least, I trust,” she said. “You understand me.”
“Of course I do.” He knelt at her side. “We both know what it is to love a child with special needs and to want to do right by him.”
She burst into drunken tears and he stayed there, patting her shoulder, while the others busied themselves cleaning up and getting ready to go.
“And you call me a miracle worker,” Sari said to Jason a little while later, after they had said their goodbyes and left. They were all standing together in front of the house. “You were amazing with her.”
“Yeah, that was pretty impressive,” Lucy said. “Let's hope you only ever use your skills for good and not evil.”
“It wasn't bullshit,” Jason said. “I really do know how she feels. I mean, not the religious stuff, but the part about just wanting to keep Charlie safe at home. I get that.”
“So what now?” David said. “Want to go to the pound and make out with the dogs, Luce?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Can't.” She indicated the other two girls. “It's knitting time.”
“No, it's not,” he said. “It's the afternoon.”
“That's because we had to come here first,” she said. “We switched it around.”
Jason looked at Sari. She smiled apologetically. “Sorry,” she said. “Just for a couple of hours, okay? I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Jason picked up Zack and said, “Looks like we're on our own for a while.”
“Do you mind driving David home?” Lucy asked him. “So I can take the girls in my car?”
“No problem.”
The men watched the girls pile into Lucy's car.
“Ever feel extraneous?” David said. “I mean, if Lucy didn't need someone to feed the cat when she's out of town-”
“Can't get in the way of their knitting circle,” Jason said. He hoisted Zack up onto his shoulders. “I’ve learned not to try. Anyway, girls like these are worth waiting around for, right?”
“Yeah,” David said, but not completely happily.
They lifted their hands to wave in unison as the car drove by them.
The girls didn't even notice. They were too busy talking and laughing.
Istill can't believe you're knitting an afghan,” Sari said to Kathleen, reaching across the table to touch the yarn. “It's so unlike you to be knitting something warm.”
“And brown,” Lucy added.
Since it was already late afternoon, they had decided to flout custom altogether and take their knitting out to a bar. They had scored a small table, which held their drinks and some of their knitting paraphernalia, and their knitting bags were on the floor at their feet, the skeins of wool coiling up along their legs to the needles they held. The guys who were crowded in front of the TV watching football and drinking beer had given them some strange looks when they first got settled, but they didn't care.
“Isn't it nice?” Kathleen said, lifting the needles up high so they could see the afghan in all its glory.
“Who's it for?” Lucy asked.
“Me, of course. I don't knit for anyone else. You know that.”
“But it's so unsexy,” Lucy said. “Unless… You're planning on lying under it naked and surprising someone, aren't you?”
“I doubt it,” Kathleen said. “There's no one worth being naked for these days.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“I am.” Kathleen put down her needles and took a sip of her drink. “Believe me, I’m well aware that of the three of us, I’m the only one going home to an empty bed tonight. It's like the world has turned upside down-everyone's having sex but me.
“I’m sorry, Kathleen,” Sari said. “It's not fair.”
“Yeah, it is.” She wrapped a strand of yarn around her index finger. “It's totally fair. This whole thing with Sam… It's my fault and I know it. I said some really stupid things about wanting to marry Kevin for his money.” She tugged the yarn off her finger and slumped down in her seat. “You guys are supposed to be my friends. Why didn't you stop me from going around saying stupid shit like that?”
“We stopped you from getting married to someone you didn't love,” Sari said. “Don't we get credit for that?”
“Keeping you from ever doing anything stupid would be a full-time job,” Lucy said. “And you're old enough to know that you can't go around telling people you're going after guys for their money and not expect it to bite you in the ass sooner or later.”
“But people shouldn't have to pay forever for stupid things they said and did in the past,” Sari said. “Look at Jason-he did far worse things than Kathleen-at least, I think he did-and here I am kind of madly in love with him. People deserve second chances.”
“You gave Jason a second chancebecause you were madly in love with him,” Lucy said. “The madly in love part came first.”
“So what are you saying?” Kathleen said. “That Sam just didn't like me enough to give me a second chance?”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Yes, it is. You're saying that if Sam had been madly in love with me, he would have forgiven me.”
“I don't know the guy,” Lucy said. “I don't know how his mind works.”
“I do,” Kathleen said. “He's not the kind of guy who gives people second chances. I actually think he was sort of in love with me, in his own way. I can tell when a guy's not interested-and that's not the problem. He just doesn't trust me.”
“It's his loss,” Sari said. “You'll find someone better. You could snap your fingers and have any guy in this room right now.”
Kathleen looked around. “Yeah,” she said. “I probably could.” There was a pause and then she wearily gathered the needles back up in her hands and resumed her knitting while Lucy and Sari exchanged worried looks above her bent head.
When they were saying good night, Sari reminded Kathleen that she had to clean out her apartment. “You cant just leave your stuff there forever.”
“I won't.”
“It'll just get harder and harder to go back.”
“I know,” Kathleen said.
“Make the break,” Sari said. “I want to see you happy again, Kath. And I don't think you will be until you're completely out of there.”
“You're right.” Kathleen fished her car keys out of her purse. “Maybe I’ll just run by there tonight. Just throw everything in the car and then find a way to let Sam know I’ve moved out.”
Sari checked her watch. “Want me to come with you?”
“Nah. Jason and Zack are waiting for you.”
“I can call them-”
“No, don't. I’m fine. I’m just going to run in there, get my stuff, and leave. A clean break, like you say.”
“Good,” Sari said. “And then you'll be able to move on. You'll have a new job, a new place to live-”
“My old job, my old place to live…”
“It's still a new beginning in its own way.”
Kathleen shrugged.
Sari hugged and released her. “I’m sorry things suck right now.”
“My own fault.” She trudged toward her car, her head down. “Hey,” Sari called. “You really okay?”
Kathleen turned to look at her. “Totally. Nothing gets me down for long. I’m tough.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m morethan tough. I’m Xena, the warrior princess. And I don't need no fucking costume to prove it.” She threw her head back and gave a passable Xena cry. People in the parking lot turned to look at her. “See?” she said. “See how tough I am?”
“You're a nut,” Sari said and got into her own car.
Kathleen watched Sari drive away. Even the car looked like it couldn't wait to get where it was going.
Kathleen herself was in no such rush. She took her time on the drive over to the apartment building, uncharacteristically gliding to a stop at every yellow light and staying well within the speed limit. She dreaded walking back into the apartment she had fled from, but Sari was right-it was time to clean it out and move on.
The doorman and elevator man greeted her with uncharacteristic warmth. “Haven't seen you around here much lately,” the first said. The elevator man actually smiled at her. “Good to see you again,” he said, before closing the door and taking her up to her floor.
Once she was inside the apartment, Kathleen looked around it with disgust. What was this place that she had lived in for several months? It could have been nice-it was big and pretty and well built-and instead it was a graveyard for balls and goals and dirty clothing and half-filled air mattresses. She hadn't even tried to make it livable. What was wrong with her? Why did everything good evade her touch, leaving her with nothing to call her own? Why did other people's lives fall into place and never hers?
She threw herself down on the air mattress in the living room and stared up at the ceiling. She never wanted to move again, just wanted to lie there forever in the peaceful quiet of the empty room, wallowing in self-loathing and misery.
Unfortunately for that plan, a loud banging started up somewhere in the building. She was getting more and more annoyed about it, when she realized it was coming from her own kitchen.
For someone who was never going to move again, she jumped up quickly enough. She ran, even, into the kitchen and flung the door open.
Sam was there, in gray pants and a white button-down shirt. No tie or jacket tonight. “Hello, Kathleen,” he said. “Do you have a moment?”
She stared at him. He seemed very calm, but then she noticed that one of his hands was opening and closing spasmodically at his side. The last time they'd spoken was when she had gotten off the elevator after their fight. “Yeah, I guess,” she said and took a step back.
“Thank you.” He entered and she let the door close behind him with a click.
“What do you want?” she said.
“I heard you come in.”
She waited.
“You haven't been here for a while. I was thinking maybe I should be worried.”
“I’m fine. As you can see.”
“I’m glad,” he said. Then, “I was hoping you'd come back. I thought maybe we should talk.”
“Really?” she said. “Because I feel like we wrapped things up pretty well last time I saw you. You pretty much answered any remaining questions I might have had with that get-the-hell-out-of-my-apartment shit.”
“I was angry,” he said. “But I’ve been waiting for you to come back, hoping maybe we could-”
“I’m only here to grab my stuff. In two hours, this apartment will be all yours again.”
“You don't have to move out.”
“I don't?” she said. “Weren't you planning on throwing me out anyway? Or is that the problem-I’m ruining all of your fun?”
“Kathleen-”
“Huh,” she said, leaning back against the counter. “Are you still here?”
He let out a deep breath. “I know you re not the world's greatest listener, but could you maybe just try for once?”
She looked at her fingernails. “It's not that I can't listen so much as it is that I’m not interested.”
“Pretend I’m talking about shoes.”
“Shoes?” she repeated. “How fucking shallow do you think I am?” She turned and walked out of the kitchen.
He followed her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean it that way. I was just trying to-” He stopped. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “But will you please just listen to me for a second?”
“Okay, fine,” she said. “What?”
He pushed his hand through his hair. His fingers were shaking. “I’m still trying to figure things out,” he said. “I didn't want to get hurt. I still don't.” She stayed silent. Then he said, “But I miss you when you're not around. It's been way too quiet around here, way too lonely. Unbearable even. You're like-” He opened his hands. “You're like a pet-company when I want company, so long as I don't mind a few stains on the rug and couch.”
“Jesus,” she said. “I’m not a fucking cat, Sam.”
“No,” he said. “I was thinking more a dog. Cats are very clean.”
She turned her back on him, took a step away, then whirled back around. “You know what? We're both idiots.”
“Okay,” he said.
“We're both idiots,” she repeated. “We've just been taking turns at it. Sometimes I talk too much and say things I don't mean. And when I said that I wanted to marry Kevin and be rich forever, I didn't mean it. Because-” There was no way to say it and make herself look good. So she didn't even try. “Because I’ve never known what to do with myself. I have nothing I want to do and nothing I’m good at. So sometimes I just try things out to see if they fit. And I thought maybe going after money was a sign of-I don't know, maturity or something. So I tried it out. Tried to be-what's the word? When all you care about is money?”
“Mercenary?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that's it. I tried being mercenary. And it didn't fit. I’m a flake and I put my foot in it all the time and I can be a pig when I eat-”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I’m a pig and all those other things, but I’m not mercenary, Sam. If I were, I’d have married Kevin in Hawaii like I was supposed to.”
“You were supposed to get married?” he said.
“But I didn't.”
He smiled weakly. “I wouldn't call that one of your strongest selling points at the moment-that you were engaged to be married to someone else a couple of months ago.”
“It is, though,” Kathleen said. “I didn't marry Kevin, not because I couldn't but because I didn't want to. Doesn't that prove I don't just care about money?”
“It doesn't change the fact that I’m rich. And I can't quite see what other charms I’m likely to hold for someone like you.” He gave a twisted smile. “I’m well aware you could have any man you wanted.”
She took a step toward him. “Sam-”
He held his hands up, holding her off. “I don't want to be anyone's sugar daddy, Kathleen.” He looked at the floor and then back up at her again. “You have no idea how scared I am of becoming something like that.”
“If it makes you feel better,” she said, “you're not the sugar daddy type. I mean, if I wanted someone to take care of me and buy me things, I’d find someone who's actually nice to me. Isn't that kind of the point of a sugar daddy?”
“The money's the point.”
“I don't want your money, Sam. I don't even need it-I’ve started working for my sisters again.”
“That can't pay very well.”
“Well enough,” she said. “Well enough that if it would help you learn to trust me, I could pay my half of anything.”
He gestured around them. “This apartment costs two point five million dollars.”
“Well, not that, obviously. Anyway, I’m living with my sisters again. I just meant I can pay for my meals. And movies and stuff like that.”
“You think that will solve the problem?”
“Fuck it, Sam,” she said, flinging her right hand out. “Either you believe that I’m not just after your money or you don't. What else can I say?”
He studied her for a moment. “You're right,” he said finally “And I do believe you. Maybe it's a mistake, but I do. So where does that leave us?”
She was silent for a moment. Then she said, “I don't know.” She took another step toward him. “But if I were a dog, I’d be a stray. I have nowhere to go, no place to call my own-just be nice to me and I’ll probably follow you home.”
“But what if this is something else you're just trying out? Going after-” He shook his head. “Christ, I don't even know how to define what this might be. But what if you realize this-whatever it is-doesn't fit, either? What if you follow someone else home one day?”
“It's a risk,” she said.
“I don't know if it's one I want to take.”
Her mouth curved up in something that wasn't a smile. “Then get a golden retriever. He'll be yours for life.”
“They shed.” He took another deep breath. “Look, Kathleen, I don't expect anything permanent. And I don't want any promises. I’ve already been through that whole until-death-do-us-part thing and the fact that I’m here with you right now proves how meaningless those promises are. But I’ve been protecting myself for a while. To put myself out there again-with someone with your kind of track record-knowing how badly I could get hurt-” He stopped and said again, “I don't want any promises. But I need some sense of the risk/gain ratio. How much time am I likely to have?”
“Do you have to sound like such a businessman?”
“I’m using the terms I know.”
“Do you really expect me to have an answer for you?” she said. “Because I don't have any idea how much time we'll have. All I know is that there's nowhere else I want to go right now except upstairs with you. And not just because your sofas are comfortable.”
“I’ll have to Scotchgard them,” he said. “I mean, whether it's you or the golden retriever… either way.” They regarded each other in silence a moment. Then Sam held his hand out and she took it. “I am going to get so hurt,” he said before pulling her fiercely against him.
“It'll be worth it,” she whispered.
“I hope to hell you're right,” he said. And then they were done talking.
The airbed had lost some of its pressure, but by the time they had fallen down on top of it, neither of them noticed or cared.
Afterward, they lay there quietly, each listening to the sound of the other's breathing.
Kathleen broke the silence. “I’m knitting something for you,” she said. “That brown afghan thing I’ve been working on all month. It's for you-for your den.”
“Really?” he said. “I didn't know that.”
“Neither did I,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure it is.”
His leg found hers under the blanket. “No one's ever knit anything for me before.”
“That makes us even,” she said. “I’ve never knit anything for anyone before.”