I wondered why I hadn’t seen her during my office visit earlier in the week. I would definitely have noticed.
“OK, Crashinsky,” Burn whispered to me. “First off, you were correct in your assessment of ‘hot,’ as this woman is absolutely and perfectly stunning.”
He went to the couch and sat down. I followed him closely, overwhelmed by my father’s threat.
“Secondly,” he continued, “see the guy she’s with? These people do not belong together.” We watched her interact with her friend/husband/date, whatever he was. She was sampling some hors d’oeuvres. Burn was doing his overthinking thing, examining the two of them like they were on TV.
“Cut it out.” Me, whispering.
Then the other couple, apparently the owners of twin-looking five-year-old girls, joined the goddess and the guy, and the four of them were talking like they knew each other. Jamie, having to take a break from Rugrats, was distracting the girls, playing with them and giggling. Roxanne was standing in the corner, just standing and looking at the woman. I didn’t see Lindsey.
“You know what she is, Crash? She is porno pretty. Lookit, even Roxanne is mesmerized.”
Roxanne did seem mesmerized.
“Is your sister, like, gay?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “She’s just . . . Roxanne.”
The ex-football guy goes into the dining room. More hors d’oeuvres, and then my father goes over to the goddess and hands her another glass of champagne, which she takes supergracefully. She throws her long hair back and laughs, with her free hand gently touching her neck. I’m thinking that she is movie-star hot. Angelina Jolie hot, if you ask me.
“Dude. Your father is way into her.”
“What are you talking about?” My father could not be way into anything except being superior to everyone, with the possible exception of Lindsey.
“Look at the way he is looking at her. And the way she is looking at him.”
The two of them are talking, which doesn’t seem so strange to me, given that Jacob invited her and all. She is saying something that Jacob seems real interested in, and Burn is right, he is paying her way more attention than he does my mom. But, OK, even he has to notice that she is superhot, and then she is laughing and then, holy shit, he is laughing with her. Actually laughing so I can hear it.
He turns, looks at us looking at him, and we make eye contact. His laughter is gone. He moves toward the kitchen, away from her, but as he does, she gently glides her hand across his arm, just for a second.
“Did you see that?” Burn is now leaning into me, head to head. “Houston, we have a problem.”
“What’s Houston?”
“Forget it,” he said. “I’m going to touch her. See how she reacts.”
I grabbed his arm, much the same way that my father grabbed mine a few days earlier. “Pleeeze,” I begged him. “I don’t want to go to boarding school.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
He maneuvered around the table, getting hors d’oeuvres and pretending not to notice the Woman. In the meantime, Roxanne comes over and sits with me.
“You like me, don’t you, Crashinsky?”
I thought momentarily about what Burn said that his sister said about me. I wondered whether she actually meant it, or if I was being set up by the two of them.
“Well, you’re definitely a whole lot nicer than Lindsey,” I said, not sure how she meant “like.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?” Roxanne asked me, nodding in the direction of the Woman.
I nod. “I guess.” Because no denying it, the Woman was an incredibly beautiful woman.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” She tugged down on her shirt, which tightened around her chest and made her boobs stick out more. And, of course, made it more difficult to look at her face. But, yeah, I kind of thought that under all the strange makeup she wore and the spiked hair, that facewise Roxanne was kind of pretty in her own way, prettier certainly than Lindsey was. Except, she also kind of looked like her brother.
“I guess” is what I said, only because I had to say something.
“Did you ever make out with a girl, Crashinsky?”
Now I’m thinking, this is the craziest family ever.
I am stuttering, because, no, actually I never did make out with a girl, and I didn’t think any other twelve-year-old I knew did, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. Shit, I didn’t even know what making out was exactly, but I couldn’t tell her that either.
“Want me to teach you?”
Now Burn, with a plate full of goods, starts walking back to us, which for my account could not be soon enough, and then, true to his word, he twists to the right and starts talking with the Woman. Standing next to her, he actually looks a lot older than he is.
“What’s he doing?” I ask Roxanne.
“My brother,” she answered, “is a strange bird. A very, very strange bird. So do you? Wanna make out?”
Burn is holding his plate and offering it to the Woman, and she actually takes an hors d’oeuvre. Then, while talking, he puts his hand on her arm, trying, I think, to copy what she did with my dad.
And she gracefully retracts her arm but accepts another thing from his plate. As she does, he turns to me, smiling, like he just scored the winning basket of a big game. Then they really get to talking, like she’s interested in what he has to say, and next thing I know, he’s leading her over to the couch and she puts her hand out to me.
“Hello, Steefen. My name is Felicia,” she says in this weird accent, pronouncing her own name in a bunch of syllables so it comes out Fileeeseeya. “Davit tellz me you are interistet in learnink more about vat your father does atvirk, for a livink.”
David offers her the loveseat beside the couch and she eases herself into it, crossing her legs like a model. All the time, Roxanne is watching her real closely.
“Feleeseeya is from Slovakia,” David tells us, and I’m wondering is this a joke, because I never heard of this country before, but I’m used to not knowing certain things, so I go with it. “She manages accounts at your father’s company.”
She is even prettier up close.
“Eeesenchewally, we are a privit fun dat invests piples money in vedyous tings, just like a bink, but wit a deefferent feelosofee.”
Yeah, that pretty much cleared it up for me.
I nod. Roxanne nods.
David asks questions, detailed questions about the types of investments and how do they pick the companies that they invest in, and how a hedge works, and Lindsey walks over now to try to listen, but the conversation is above even her head, and then Jacob sees us all talking and flies over in a controlled panic, which I recognize, but no one else does. He has this stride that looks normal but is actually really rushed, so he’s over to us real fast. Only to find Felicia explaining how to minimize exposure to risks while still allowing your assets to grow.
“Jack, dese cheeldrin shoot com to de offees.”
“I was just there,” I volunteer.
“And you did note introtuuce us?” she says accusingly at my father.
“It was Monday.” They both shake their head, like Monday meant something.
“Dinner.” My mom sticks her head in from the other room.
We only eat in the dining room like three or four times a year, and mostly it’s a room that I never go into. It’s very long and very formal and dark, with lots of stuff in there that if I even touched gently would break into a billion pieces. We have this huge table, big enough to accommodate all of us, which meant every kid, even the tiny twins, could sit at the adult table, which as you probably know is not normal, because with virtually every single holiday that I have spent at other people’s houses, the kids are in one room, the adults in another.
Had that been the case on this night, my guess is I would have ended up going to the school in Vermont, or some other boarding school in some other state, and that pretty much would have been that.
Bu
t we were all in the same room.
“Odd group,” my aunt Randi whispered to me. It was a tight fit. There were, and I counted, fifteen of us, clustered around trays of every imaginable Thanksgiving food that I have ever seen except sweet potatoes.
Down at the far end of the table was my father, with Felicia on one side and Office Worker One to her right. Felicia’s guyfriend was directly across from her, on the other side of my father. And right next him was Burn, as he pushed his way into the next available seat. So I immediately had to grab the one next to him, knowing that I was going to have to control him if necessary, squeezing into my chair as my aunt sat on my other side, followed by Roxanne and then Lindsey. Across from me was Office Worker One’s wife. And next to her, their kids, and Jamie, who is still playing with the girls, then an open seat, apparently for Mrs. Burnett, and another blank for my mom.
My mother came in and started suggesting moves, but Burn started dumping stuff on his plate and drinking from the glass, so he wasn’t about to move. Apparently my mom conferred with Mrs. Burnett and they decided to leave things the way there were.
Again, had she insisted on putting the kids on one side of the room and the adults on the other, which would have been a pretty normal thing to do, I probably would have ended up in Vermont. Or even if she’d had the balls to tell Burn to move to accommodate the other guests: Vermont.
But not on this night.
“How are you doing, kiddo?” my aunt asked me. I wondered what she knew. My father didn’t talk to her much, so I guessed she had not been told of his plans to essentially kick me out of the family. “I got you a present. It should be in my bag, if I haven’t forgotten it. Remind me after dinner.”
“Thanks,” I said, distracted.
“Is he still giving you a hard time?” she asked, motioning to my dad.
“Yeah.” As I’m saying this, I feel my lip weaken and I get a little choked up.
She notices. “He can be a real scumbag,” she says with a sneer.
I turn to her. She is OK looking, but not at all noticeable in a room that also has Felicia in it, and I wonder if she’ll ever get married. I think she thinks she no longer can. Whenever she gets involved with someone, it never lasts. I once heard her tell my father that the reason that she could not have a successful relationship was because of him and how hard he was on people. As far as I knew, she is pretty much the only person who ever stood up to him and actually makes him back down.
Randi notices I’m upset, and she pokes me in the ribs. “Hey, kid. It’s Thanksgiving—don’t be a downer. I’ll talk to the guy. I’ll straighten everything out.”
“That’s not going to help.”
And my mom comes into the room with even more food, and they are trying to fit it between the plates.
And Roxanne announces that she is going to observe Thanksgiving by becoming a vegetarian because it’s inhuman to celebrate the death of other animals, and then she takes a huge dollop of stuffing and drops it onto her plate.
And Lindsey waits until Roxanne tastes it, then laughs and tells her that there’s sausage in the stuffing, which she should have known because her mother made it.
And Jamie, not knowing that Lindsey is trying to goad Roxanne, innocently announces that the gravy is filled with turkey juice, just as Roxanne is pouring some onto the stuffing.
And Roxanne backs slightly away from the table, and my aunt Randi whispers to me, “Fire and ice.” And I’m not sure which she thinks is which except I am rooting for Roxanne, who I know from my few experiences with her is not going to drop it, and I wonder if I could actually have made out with her or if she was just messing with me.
And all this time, Burn is asking Felicia questions, like what’s it like growing up in Slovakia and how’d she learn English and what made her come to the U.S. She seemed to enjoy talking to him, and my father seemed to be encouraging it. Seemed like he was in a supergood mood for him until Lindsey and Roxanne started to bicker, and then he took control of the room, giving a speech about the importance of family and sharing a holiday with others, and I’m thinking if family is so important to him, why is he trying so hard to get rid of me?
And then we are all up and circulating the table, taking spoonfuls from plate after plate. And I could see that something is up with Roxanne, and my aunt notices also, because they work out to switch seats so that Roxanne is now sitting next to me with her plate of stuffing and vegetables.
“Your aunt is a very smart woman, Crashinsky” is what she whispers to me. “Besides, I like it better here,” she says, talking to me but staring at Felicia, who is still talking to her brother.
Then we are eating and people are all talking at the same time. And now my father is talking to Burn and seems to have the patience for him that he never had for me.
Jamie asks the twins whether they know “It’s Getting Hot in Here,” and they are singing it together, knowing all the lyrics, but not knowing it’s about sex. I don’t think that Jamie knows either, except for the “take off all your clothes” part.
And Burn asks Felicia what kind of music she likes. She talks about how she was trained on the piano and the violin, so classical, some jazz, and of course club music.
And Aunt Randi asks Roxanne on one side and Lindsey on the other how high school is, being as they are both freshmen, and Lindsey says she loves it, but Roxanne doesn’t answer.
And Burn asks Felicia what she likes to read, and she talks about historical fiction, rattling off the names of books I’ve never heard of.
And my mom asks how’s the turkey, because she got the recipe on the Food Network and it’s different, which everybody agrees is pretty good, except for Roxanne who whispers to me how she’s not really a vegetarian, but just wanted to piss off her mom for sitting her next to Lindsey, and I say “Better you than me.”
And Roxanne laughs hugely, which makes me forget all about the one thing wrong problem for the first time since my father forced me to look at the brochures in his office.
And then Mrs. Burnett says that everything is perfect and that she and her family wanted to thank mine again for having them.
And my mom, ever the gracious host, thanks her back.
And Office Worker One thanks my mom and dad, and says he is thankful for his own wife and kids.
And then Burn thanks my mom too and then turns to Felicia and asks her:
When did she start sleeping with my dad.
And there is an instant of total silence.
No one is eating. No one is moving.
But then the twins start singing again: “It’s getting hot in here. . . .”
And Jacob Crashinsky erupts like a volcano, screaming at Burn, but that doesn’t stop Burn from pursuing his line of questioning.
“How long have you two been involved in a relationship? Anyone watching the two of you would notice these things. Does Mrs. Crashinsky know?”
Now Felicia is leaving the table, out of the house in a storm, but the guy with her is still just looking at my father. So they go off to another room. And Office Worker One apparently goes after Felicia, and the twins are crying, screaming, and so, for some reason, is Jamie.
And my mom leaves the room.
And Roxanne whispers to me, “Well, now your father’s truly fucked.”
Now Mrs. Burnett is all over Burn, smacking him across the head, and they are out of the house, Roxanne following after them, leaving me and my sisters and my aunt and the crying twins with their mom as the only ones left at the table.
And Jamie is still crying, and I don’t know whether it’s from my dad screaming or because of what she heard.
Now Aunt Randi is up, gently taking Jamie by the hand and suggesting that she and Lindsey go with her to their bedrooms, and then she tells me that maybe I should do the same thing.
So I go to my room and I am really freaked out. Because if I had any shot of staying in my house, Burn has just completely eliminated any possibility, and I’m thinking that maybe I s
hould start packing now. Maybe not even wait, maybe bike over to Pete’s and stay there for the night.
How freaked out am I? I am in my room with my door closed, staring at my computer screen, and I am crying—that’s how freaked out. And even with my door closed, all I hear is a lot of doors slamming and cars driving off, then quiet for a while, but I decide not to leave my room.
And then I hear my father’s voice, but I can’t make out what he is saying.
But then his voice is totally drowned out by my mom’s voice, and she is screaming: “I want you out of here. I want you out of here. I WANT YOU OUT OF HERE!”
And I try to calm down, so I turn on the television, trying to block out the screaming. I’m not going to lie to you, the two of them have had screaming matches before, but in the past, almost always, it was about me. And now it wasn’t, and you know what? That actually felt pretty good. And I stopped freaking out.
Then the door slamming again.
And then quiet. And me still staring at the computer screen in a daze until the AIM bell rings.
It’s Burn with an instant message:
Revenge is sweet.
And I immediately write back:
You just fucked me.
Thinking about how maybe that was his plan all along.
And almost immediately after I hit send, another message comes back.
Don’t be a cretin, Crash. I just saved your life.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday at the Westchester
I had been writing for like a week, feeling pretty proud of myself for getting the whole Thanksgiving scene down accurately, and it was generally going real good when I got this friend request on Facebook from this girl Nadine. So I check out all her friends, mostly high school girls, but I don’t know any of them. So of course I accept anyways, and it’s this girl from White Plains and we start IMing.
ru the Steven Crashinsky from TV, the one who saved the school?
yes
Crash and Burn Page 11