Now That You Mention It
Page 45
“No, thanks. Hey, American cheese is all fat, you know. It’s not really even cheese.”
“I like it.”
So did I. Who didn’t? “Just watching out for your cholesterol.”
She plated the sandwich, poured herself a glass of milk and sat down at the table. Took a bite of her sandwich and chewed placidly, like a cow.
It was as intimate a moment as we were going to have. “Mom, I have a question for you.”
“You always do.”
“Yes, well...it’s about Dad.”
The chewing didn’t stop. “What about him?”
“Did you ever hear from him? Ever?”
She swallowed, took a drink of milk. “Nora, we’ve been over this a thousand times.”
“No, we haven’t.”
A sigh. “I haven’t heard from your father in more than twenty years.”
“But did you ever hear from him? I mean, he must be somewhere.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“I just want to know what happened to him. If he’s alive, even. Do you know that?”
“You think I murdered him?”
“That did cross my mind, but no, I don’t.”
She took another bite of sandwich. “There were days I wanted to.”
“Yes, I’m sure. But come on, Mom. I’ve Googled him a thousand times. Maybe he had a friend I didn’t know about?”
“I don’t know, Nora. I don’t see what the point is after all these years.”
“He was a great father. It never made any sense.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. “If he was a great father, he wouldn’t have left you girls.”
I nodded. “It’s hard to reconcile those things.”
“Well, you’ve had twenty years to do just that, dahlin’. Twenty-four, but who’s counting? I have to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight. What time?”
“Seven.”
“Guess I won’t be home for Wheel of Fortune.” Another sigh. She got up and started to wash her plate and glass.
“I’ll do that, Mom.”
“I got it,” she said, not looking at me. She was irritated, both by the dinner party and the conversation.
“Okay,” I said. “See you later.”
* * *
Xiaowen made good on her offer to come early, drink wine and shuck the oysters she’d brought, harvested from beds she’d planted herself. We slurped down a couple with a glass of wine, the fresh taste of ocean with a little bit of sweetness, thanks to the mouth of the riverbed where she’d planted them, she told me. Also, she’d put on her wet suit and dived for them herself.
It was so nice, having her here. “Did you hate high school as much as I did?” I asked, chopping the ends off the asparagus I was serving.
“Oh, God, yes,” she said. “Those mean girls were brutal to me. I always appreciated when you said hi to me in the halls.”
“Same here.” I paused. “I wish we’d been closer back then.”
“Yeah, me, too. I was shy back then, and you...you seemed so sad all the time.”
“I was.” I chopped some parsley, not looking at my friend. “My father left us when I was in fifth grade, and my sister and I weren’t really close after that.”
“I remember her as quite a bitch,” Xiaowen said. “She threw a used tampon at me in the bathroom one time.”
My head jerked up. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“I’m so sorry! God, that’s... That really is horrible.” I’d always suspected Lily was like that... I just didn’t want it to be true.
My phone buzzed—Gloria, with an apologetic text saying she couldn’t make it; her sister had a crisis and she’d taken the last ferry to Boston and would see me Monday. I texted back that I hoped all was well.
“Gloria can’t come, I’m afraid,” I said.
“Too bad,” Xiaowen said. “You guys close?”
“Not yet. But she’s a great nurse, and we get along really well at work. Hey, speaking of work, I’ve seen at least three girls this week with eating disorders. Two overeaters, one anorexic. Maybe you remember, I had a problem with food myself.”
“You Americans.” Xiaowen sighed.
“I know. But I was thinking of doing something to raise public awareness.” I thought of sweet Audrey. “Some kind of fun run. All shapes, all sizes, that kind of thing.”
“Want help? Since I’m not getting married this summer, I have plenty of time on my hands.”
“That would be great!” I handed her another oyster. “You want to talk about the fiancé?”
“If by talk about, you mean murder, the answer is yes.” She sucked down the oyster. “In all seriousness, no. The classic story of I saw what I wanted to see, and then got bitch-slapped by reality. He cheated on me.”
“I hate him.”
“Thank you.”
A knock came on the door, and there they all were, lined up on the dock like I was about to shoot them: Mom; Bob Dobbins; Henry Carver; Jake Ferriman, holding a twelve-pack of beer; Amelia with a bottle of her own; and just coming down the dock now, Sullivan. It was exactly seven o’clock.
“Sullivan Fletcher,” Xiaowen murmured appreciatively. “If my heart wasn’t encased in iron, I’d climb him like a tree.” She cut her eyes to me. “You could do worse.”
“His daughter’s been hanging out here,” I said. “And he did me a favor the other night.” But, hey, she had a point. I opened the door. “Hi, everyone! You’re so punctual! Come on in.”
“After you, Sharon,” Bob said. My mother gave him an irritated glance; I guess if Bob wasn’t paying for hugs, she had no use for him.
Then again, Bob was wearing a brilliant yellow, uh, blouse, complete with ruffles, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, had marinated himself in a barrel of Polo by Ralph Lauren. “Bob.” I wheezed as he kissed my cheek. “So glad you could come. Mr. Carver! How are you?”
“Call me Henry,” he said. “I brought you some wine.”
“Thank you!” I said, taking it. Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill. “We’ll have to open this for dessert.” Or regift it to a wino on the streets of Boston.
“What a charming place!” Amelia cooed. “Isn’t! This! Lovely! I’m Amelia Ames,” she said to Jake. “Wonderful to meet you.”
“We’ve met,” he said, clutching his twelve-pack a little closer.
“Have we? I don’t remember. Nora, darling, I brought you some vodka.” She set it on the counter with a thump. “Be a good girl and pour me some, won’t you?”
“Not her first, I’m guessing,” Xiaowen murmured. “Come on, people! Move along, you’re crowding the kitchen.”
Sullivan was last in. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” He handed me a pie.
A pie.
It was still warm. “Strawberry rhubarb,” he said.
“Did you make this?” Because of the chatter from the living room, I made sure to look right at him so he could hear me.
“Ayuh.”
“Do you mind if I go in the bedroom and eat it right now?”
He smiled, just a little. My girl parts also smiled. I cleared my throat. “Would you like a drink?”
“I like it.”
So did I. Who didn’t? “Just watching out for your cholesterol.”
She plated the sandwich, poured herself a glass of milk and sat down at the table. Took a bite of her sandwich and chewed placidly, like a cow.
It was as intimate a moment as we were going to have. “Mom, I have a question for you.”
“You always do.”
“Yes, well...it’s about Dad.”
The chewing didn’t stop. “What about him?”
“Did you ever hear from him? Ever?”
She swallowed, took a drink of milk. “Nora, we’ve been over this a thousand times.”
“No, we haven’t.”
A sigh. “I haven’t heard from your father in more than twenty years.”
“But did you ever hear from him? I mean, he must be somewhere.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“I just want to know what happened to him. If he’s alive, even. Do you know that?”
“You think I murdered him?”
“That did cross my mind, but no, I don’t.”
She took another bite of sandwich. “There were days I wanted to.”
“Yes, I’m sure. But come on, Mom. I’ve Googled him a thousand times. Maybe he had a friend I didn’t know about?”
“I don’t know, Nora. I don’t see what the point is after all these years.”
“He was a great father. It never made any sense.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. “If he was a great father, he wouldn’t have left you girls.”
I nodded. “It’s hard to reconcile those things.”
“Well, you’ve had twenty years to do just that, dahlin’. Twenty-four, but who’s counting? I have to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight. What time?”
“Seven.”
“Guess I won’t be home for Wheel of Fortune.” Another sigh. She got up and started to wash her plate and glass.
“I’ll do that, Mom.”
“I got it,” she said, not looking at me. She was irritated, both by the dinner party and the conversation.
“Okay,” I said. “See you later.”
* * *
Xiaowen made good on her offer to come early, drink wine and shuck the oysters she’d brought, harvested from beds she’d planted herself. We slurped down a couple with a glass of wine, the fresh taste of ocean with a little bit of sweetness, thanks to the mouth of the riverbed where she’d planted them, she told me. Also, she’d put on her wet suit and dived for them herself.
It was so nice, having her here. “Did you hate high school as much as I did?” I asked, chopping the ends off the asparagus I was serving.
“Oh, God, yes,” she said. “Those mean girls were brutal to me. I always appreciated when you said hi to me in the halls.”
“Same here.” I paused. “I wish we’d been closer back then.”
“Yeah, me, too. I was shy back then, and you...you seemed so sad all the time.”
“I was.” I chopped some parsley, not looking at my friend. “My father left us when I was in fifth grade, and my sister and I weren’t really close after that.”
“I remember her as quite a bitch,” Xiaowen said. “She threw a used tampon at me in the bathroom one time.”
My head jerked up. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“I’m so sorry! God, that’s... That really is horrible.” I’d always suspected Lily was like that... I just didn’t want it to be true.
My phone buzzed—Gloria, with an apologetic text saying she couldn’t make it; her sister had a crisis and she’d taken the last ferry to Boston and would see me Monday. I texted back that I hoped all was well.
“Gloria can’t come, I’m afraid,” I said.
“Too bad,” Xiaowen said. “You guys close?”
“Not yet. But she’s a great nurse, and we get along really well at work. Hey, speaking of work, I’ve seen at least three girls this week with eating disorders. Two overeaters, one anorexic. Maybe you remember, I had a problem with food myself.”
“You Americans.” Xiaowen sighed.
“I know. But I was thinking of doing something to raise public awareness.” I thought of sweet Audrey. “Some kind of fun run. All shapes, all sizes, that kind of thing.”
“Want help? Since I’m not getting married this summer, I have plenty of time on my hands.”
“That would be great!” I handed her another oyster. “You want to talk about the fiancé?”
“If by talk about, you mean murder, the answer is yes.” She sucked down the oyster. “In all seriousness, no. The classic story of I saw what I wanted to see, and then got bitch-slapped by reality. He cheated on me.”
“I hate him.”
“Thank you.”
A knock came on the door, and there they all were, lined up on the dock like I was about to shoot them: Mom; Bob Dobbins; Henry Carver; Jake Ferriman, holding a twelve-pack of beer; Amelia with a bottle of her own; and just coming down the dock now, Sullivan. It was exactly seven o’clock.
“Sullivan Fletcher,” Xiaowen murmured appreciatively. “If my heart wasn’t encased in iron, I’d climb him like a tree.” She cut her eyes to me. “You could do worse.”
“His daughter’s been hanging out here,” I said. “And he did me a favor the other night.” But, hey, she had a point. I opened the door. “Hi, everyone! You’re so punctual! Come on in.”
“After you, Sharon,” Bob said. My mother gave him an irritated glance; I guess if Bob wasn’t paying for hugs, she had no use for him.
Then again, Bob was wearing a brilliant yellow, uh, blouse, complete with ruffles, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, had marinated himself in a barrel of Polo by Ralph Lauren. “Bob.” I wheezed as he kissed my cheek. “So glad you could come. Mr. Carver! How are you?”
“Call me Henry,” he said. “I brought you some wine.”
“Thank you!” I said, taking it. Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill. “We’ll have to open this for dessert.” Or regift it to a wino on the streets of Boston.
“What a charming place!” Amelia cooed. “Isn’t! This! Lovely! I’m Amelia Ames,” she said to Jake. “Wonderful to meet you.”
“We’ve met,” he said, clutching his twelve-pack a little closer.
“Have we? I don’t remember. Nora, darling, I brought you some vodka.” She set it on the counter with a thump. “Be a good girl and pour me some, won’t you?”
“Not her first, I’m guessing,” Xiaowen murmured. “Come on, people! Move along, you’re crowding the kitchen.”
Sullivan was last in. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” He handed me a pie.
A pie.
It was still warm. “Strawberry rhubarb,” he said.
“Did you make this?” Because of the chatter from the living room, I made sure to look right at him so he could hear me.
“Ayuh.”
“Do you mind if I go in the bedroom and eat it right now?”
He smiled, just a little. My girl parts also smiled. I cleared my throat. “Would you like a drink?”
