“Unless she asks,” Dylan clarified. “But I don’t think she’s going to ask. Us.” He didn’t want to think about the Jane situation. His dad took care of everything, and he would take care of this too. Had he and Jack been too welcoming of Jane? Maybe they should have been less sad and more angry and persuaded their dad he was giving up too soon. Hindsight. The concept of too soon had never entered his mind then. What other grounds for objection? That their dad was married? He could have easily gotten a divorce. What would a divorce have solved? No, the only honest argument was: You should be alone. And they hadn’t used it.
When the sun was high enough to warm the garden, they found a bench they could all squeeze into. Dylan set the tripod in place and turned on the tiny video camera to see if he had his mother positioned correctly—or if she objected—but all she said was, “It’s so small—it looks like a CIA gadget. Wherever did you get that?”
“We got it for Dad maybe three years ago. He used it at Jack’s graduation. It’s a little outdated. Most people use their phones now.” Dylan watched her puzzle out that statement. “We didn’t use it a lot, but I’ll play what we have for you when we get to a computer.” After a pause, he said, “I wish we had used it more.”
Jack intoned for the camera, “It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and we are at the Loon Lake Ladies Retirement Home—no apostrophes—and we are about to ask our mother, ‘What’s new, Mrs. Sanders?’ ”
Kate gave a big smile. “Oh, it’s just another day hanging with my kids. They’re going to fill me in on the last few years. I hope they’ll just start talking, because I don’t want to have to ask a bunch of questions. Plus, they do not like being questioned.”
They tripped over their words trying to describe for her what she had missed.
“Some of it, you’ll need to see the photos,” Dylan said, “to get what we’re talking about—like Jack’s date for senior prom—her dress.”
“In my defense, I did not know she was crazy when she asked me.”
They caught her up on school—like their ACT scores, which were within one point of each other. “Don’t tell me who scored higher! I don’t want to lose respect for the other.” She could still make them laugh. She asked about girlfriends and, surprised she’d never suspected, they finally confessed their adolescent rivalry over Maggie. “She was two years older than Jack,” Dylan said. “I don’t know why he even thought he had a chance.”
“I can’t believe either of you thought you had a chance. You were still boys and she was gorgeous.”
“We know that now, Mom,” Dylan said. “But thanks.”
“Yes, thanks.”
“And mature too. I mean, I saw her flirt with your dad once at a block party.”
“Really? What did he do?”
“I’m not sure he noticed. He was trying to help the younger kids get ready for the bike race.”
They told her about Maggie’s marriage to the math teacher, whom Kate remembered right away. “You both loved him. He was a great teacher. The mothers used to talk about him too. There was just something about him. You boys never had a chance. I will definitely have to get someone to tell me the luscious details on all of that.”
She pulled a notebook out of her pocket and wrote something down.
“What are you doing?” Jack tried to read her writing.
“I’ve started a list of everything I need to catch up on.”
“Well, Mom,” Dylan asked, “is that item a list kind of thing or more of a Post-it kind of thing?
“Don’t tease. You’ll be needing lists and Post-its yourself someday.”
They both pulled rumpled aging lists from their back pockets. Dylan’s had a small sticky note attached.
Kate gave a delighted laugh. “You are wonderful young men and you make a mother proud. Now, onto the all-important topic: Are there any current girlfriends I should know about?”
Both of them looked at their laps, frozen.
She tilted her head towards Jack. “Are you seeing anyone?”
A small sound of relief escaped him. “I’m trying to make the most of my college years and the supply of beautiful girls.”
“Women,” she said.
“Yes, women.”
“Well, it’s probably good to do that for a while. Carefully, of course.”
“I am careful and kind,” Jack agreed. “Reasonably.”
She turned to Dylan, who took a breath and said, “There is someone. I haven’t told anybody about her, but I met someone.”
Jack’s mouth fell open. “Dawg, how long ago? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I don’t know. Timing. Timing issues.”
Across the lawn, David was walking towards them, carrying a blanket, a small cooler, and a large bag from Kate’s favorite sub shop. She gave him an excited wave. “David, good timing. Dylan is just telling us about his girlfriend.”
“Wait for me.” He all but sprinted, then sat on the ground, first putting his jacket down on the slightly damp grass.
“So, we worked in the same lab for about six months, but I didn’t really notice her,” Dylan said. “Well, I noticed, but she seemed kind of businesslike, as well as taken. I just assumed she was taken. I wasn’t getting any signals. Unlike Jack, I like to wait for signals.”
“Which is why you’ve had such a lonely existence,” Jack said. “The signal is that they’re talking to you.”
Kate tapped Jack’s knee.
“So one day, the two of us were doing some data collection and we were in silly moods because it was a beautiful Friday afternoon. Everyone else had taken off and we were stuck in this gloomy room smelling like rats. I mean we smelled like rats, not just the lab. Anyway, we stripped off our masks and goggles and our paper hairnet things, and I said, ‘Why, Miss Lily, you look so lovely.” And she said, ‘You too, Dylan. Goggle-free, you have eyes.’ ”
“Lily,” Kate said. “I love her name.”
“It’s short for Liliana, which she doesn’t like.”
“So when did you and your Italian girlfriend get together? When did the goggles finally come off?” Jack asked the question for all of them.
“It’s been five months, four days,” Dylan said.
God, David thought, running the chronology through his head as he realized all the occasions Dylan could have told him and didn’t. Did I take up all the air in the room?
It was borderline chilly, so he put his jacket around Kate’s shoulders. While they ate, they tried to remember the last time she might have had her favorite Italian sub, and pinned it down to Dylan’s senior year of high school. Kate could only eat half, and she divided the rest between Dylan and Jack, as she had done countless times before.
“You’re chewing with your mouths closed,” she said. “I am truly honored.”
“It’s our welcome back gift to you,” Dylan said.
Jack chewed carefully and pointed to his throat as he swallowed. “Kind of an unusual choice, but we thought it would go over better than jewelry.”
“Did you now?” she said.
Dylan and Jack walked single-file down the hallway, sent by their mother to “see a good movie or walk around downtown” for a few hours. They navigated the route to the exit, never glancing in the rooms. Long ago, they had confessed that they tried not to look at anybody when they were at the L. “None of us is supposed to be here,” Jack announced quite sometime earlier. “So I just pretend I’m not.”
They stood by Dylan’s car while they figured out who had the keys.
“Why do I feel like having a cigarette?” Jack said.
“Guilt,” Dylan answered as he unlocked the car. “Guilt and cigarettes go together.” He inched out of the lot, avoiding an elderly driver barely visible over the steering wheel of a large car. “What do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know. I kind of think we should buy her some jewelry.”
David and Kate stopped in the kitchen for tea and brought their cups and extra water to a
small parlor, where they sat petting two of the cats. After her last sip of tea, Kate said, “I want to be outside, but I need to sleep for a while first. What do you want to do?”
“Follow you.”
He did, to her room, where she lay down on her narrow bed. David said he had to answer a few emails and then he’d read. He checked his mail and started a reply, using one finger.
“What is that?”
“A phone.”
“Doesn’t look like a phone.”
“Well, it’s more like a computer.”
“I want one.”
He smiled. “Tomorrow.”
After responding to a few emails, he realized he should have brought a laptop. Being away from the department so much had caused a logjam. He gave up and watched her sleep, and then put his phone away, tilted the reclining chair, and soon dozed, dreaming vaguely about both Kate and Jane, with him apologizing over and over, unconvincingly. He forced himself awake and pulled out the Times, determined not to close his eyes again.
Kate was awake and in front of the only mirror in the room. He watched her studying herself until she noticed him.
“My neck took the worst of it.”
“You have a fine neck,” he said. “We’re both…I mean neither of us is—” He stopped, but it was too late. She looked away from him, holding herself rigid. “Kate! You can’t be angry with me for noticing we’re not young anymore.”
She relented and turned fully towards him with something close to a smile. “Does this scarf look good or does it just make it look like I need a scarf?” She finished arranging the fabric.
“It’s a very pretty scarf. Have I seen it?”
The smile was gone. “My body has changed—no exercise, except pacing, for years.”
“You’re slim. You’re beautiful.”
“I’m all covered up. Do you remember how much I used to walk? And the gym. How often do you go to the gym?”
“Two times a week, three if I can. What are you saying, Kate? What are we talking about here?”
She turned her back to him and spoke into the mirror. “I’m saying I’m humiliated. I lost my brain. I was like a child—less than a child—a pet. I was a god-damned turtle. And now I’m dumpy. Maybe that’s petty and ungrateful, but I’m going to get Martha to buy me one of those things—shapers they call them—until I get into shape.”
“You realize that just relocates things?”
Her reflection glared at him. “Yes, David, I realize that.”
“Are we arguing?”
“We seem to be, but I have no idea about what.”
“That’s not true. You’re mad that this happened.”
“That makes me a horrible person—that I feel more angry than grateful.”
“You got screwed. Besides, we’re all horrible in one way or another. Only the degree varies.”
“We both got screwed.”
“Yes we did.” He got up and walked to her. He put his arms around her from behind, turned her to face him, and kissed her on the lips for the first time. She kissed him back and then broke away to lean her head on his shoulder.
There was a knock on the door and Jack entered with Dylan behind him, carrying a large bouquet. David and Kate moved apart, as if they were doing something illicit.
“These are beautiful!” Kate said, taking the bouquet Jack held out. “I can’t believe you could find such nice flowers on short notice, and you brought a vase for them.”
“We each remembered different things about what you like,” Dylan explained. “We don’t actually know the names of any flowers, it turns out.”
“Still, there was no physical violence involved in selecting these blooms,” Jack said.
They studied Kate as she rubbed a lily petal between her fingers. She looked up and said, “Thank you.”
Later, when the boys said their goodbyes until the following weekend, Dylan said, “I’ll call you every day.”
“I’ll call you at least every day,” Jack said and then kissed his mother one last time.
“Almost worth it all,” Kate said.
David grabbed Jack by his backpack straps as the boys headed for the door. “Remember: not a word to anybody. About Mom being better, I mean. Because it could affect her eligibility to stay in the study. We don’t have any idea how long the medication will work, but we want her on it.”
“Well, I’ll have to say something to Lily.” Dylan thought he should be honest.
“As little as possible.” David glared at Dylan, then Jack too, and then he hugged each of them, holding on tight.
Lucy’s voice was being broadcast through Jane’s landline—she must have called on her cell while knocking on the front door. Finally, she heard Lucy use her key and enter through the front and follow the sound of running water. Jane was standing at the kitchen sink washing the few dishes she had used over the last week. Even then, most of the food went down the disposal.
“Jane, why are you hiding out here? You’ve barely been at work, you cancelled everything this weekend, and you won’t take my calls. Tom is ready to shoot David. Or shoot you. He seems to think killing someone is the answer.”
Against her will, Jane felt herself almost smile.
“Shall we cry together?” Lucy asked. “Or are you sick of crying? Shall we be mad or cry? I will do anything to help you.”
Jane sat silent. Then very quietly, she said, “I feel like an idiot. I’ve not heard one syllable from him.”
“You weren’t an idiot and neither was he. You will hear from him. I know that much.”
The silence grew. “I told Tom I might spend the night.”
No response.
“He agreed that it might not be safe for you to be alone.”
“I’m not thinking of hurting myself,” Jane said. “I don’t want to live without him. There’s nothing suicidal about it.”
“That’s good to know. I’m spending the night though.”
“Of course you are.” Jane nodded, resigned. “I hope you brought some good drugs because I have to go into work tomorrow and I haven’t slept in days.”
“Got your back, kid.” Lucy started pawing through her purse and pulled out three pill bottles, their labels dingy, and set them on the table.
“Jesus,” Jane said, with a small smile. “What vacation was that from?”
“I don’t know. Mexico?”
The two old friends sat together, mostly quiet, occasionally talking about their work or one of Lucy’s kids. Jane cut up an apple for Lucy, and it looked for a moment as if she might eat some herself, but she didn’t. Neither of them drank anything but water, and at eleven, Lucy dispensed one sleeping pill. “Grief is so hard to subdue,” she said as she gave Jane an extra half-pill.
“Oh, I remember that,” Jane said, with a small, bitter smile.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
David drew up a schedule that allowed him to teach his classes, a light load thankfully, and to deal with the most mandatory of his other responsibilities while also taking time off to be with Kate. He left his proposed schedule for Greta to look over before he took it to the Provost. He thought that was the right person. Or maybe there was an assistant dean somewhere who cared about his work hours. Greta would tell him.
When he arrived at the L after work, Kate was in her room sitting at a small desk the staff had set up for her. She had two notepads and Post-its but wasn’t writing. He leaned over to kiss her and she jumped a little.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. What’s going on?”
She took two long breaths and then said, “I need you to describe for me everything that happened—everything that changed about me.”
David’s spirits sank. Would his punishment never end? “I don’t want to do that. Do you really need to know?”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“You’re embarrassed to tell me something?”
“Well, that too. I’m embarrassed by what I said and did. I need to know.” She didn’t
meet his eyes and appeared to hate the topic as much as he did. “I can get caught up on the other things. I’ll read all the back issues of the local paper online, and then I’ll read one old Sunday Times each week.”
“I’ve begun to wonder if that’s a good idea. A lot of bad things have happened.”
“Well, I’m assuming that mostly bad things have occurred. It will be just like taking a history class, Professor. Except with the amusing parts left in.”
He smiled at her teasing and didn’t say out loud that she seemed fragile to him.
“I want you to construct a timeline from when I first got sick—what it was like, everything about the boys and you and our families and our house—the neighborhood. Everything you can remember—the parts not covered by newspapers and magazines. But also me, what happened to me.” She was standing now and spoke with confidence. “As much as you can. I know it’s asking a lot, but I need to know.” She looked away from him. “Did people have to help me in the bathroom? Was I still getting my period? I can’t remember. I don’t want to know. I don’t even know what I want to know.”
He suspected that if the situation were reversed, he might feel just as determined to know exactly how humiliated he should feel.
“It always seemed to me that you retained your dignity admirably. You paced and you would refuse to go to meals sometimes or to leave one activity for another, but you were mostly quiet. Some of the others talked non-stop and were hard to be around. Do you have any idea why you were so…mild?”
Her face softened a little.
“I have some memory,” she said, “of the beginning, I mean. I know I didn’t confide in you. I thought I could will myself to stay…present. I thought if I really tried, I could just maintain some plateau of vague and ditzy.”
“That sounds like torture.”
“Yes, it was. Then, when I knew I was losing ground, I made a vow to not talk. I thought my only hope was to make less of a fool of myself. Maybe I retained some slight shred of control that let me be silent. I don’t know.” A tear slid down her cheek. “It was probably random.”
The Half-Life of Everything Page 10