Family and Other Catastrophes

by Alexandra Borowitz

  Nathan checked his steampunk-inspired bronze watch, with visible gears. “Maddyson does not seem to be returning from that wench Chelsea’s house. I suppose it is just us gentle sirs now.”

  “I should be going then.”

  “Nonsense. I shan’t allow it. You are too deep in your cups to drive safely, and as much as I disdain your predatory posture toward my stepsister’s delicate flower, I will not see my brother’s wedding marred by your untimely demise.”

  “Well, thanks.” He got up and stretched, allowing his belly to show when he raised his arms. Who cared, it wasn’t like Maddyson was still around. “Fuck, why did I even come here?”

  “Only you can answer that. Here. Prithee follow me to the guest quarters. World of Warcraft awaits.”

  “Ugh, anything but that.”

  “Perhaps you’d prefer that I tell my father and stepmother that you came here to get Maddyson drunk,” he said, his eyes dancing mischievously. “They’d love to hear about that.”

  “Fine, whatever. I’ll be your weird fucking video game buddy.”

  Nathan steadied him as they went upstairs, past a series of photographs of Nathan and David as little boys. It was strange to imagine Nathan as a child. How did he become this?

  “You looked different as a kid.” He missed a step and almost fell into Nathan.

  “Ah, yes. My innocent days. Before I learned about the treachery of romance.”

  “You really hate women, don’t you? And you think I’m the scumbag?”

  “To the contrary. I adore women. I adore everything about them—their slim waists, their long hair, their full lips, their...heavenly girlhoods. But I have become resentful, for these females want nothing to do with the likes of me. You appear to have the same problem.”

  “Fuck no,” he blurted, accidentally spitting in Nathan’s face. “I’m not a virgin like you. I was married. And before that, during that and after that, I’ve fucked tons of women.”

  “Yes. But you are unhappy nonetheless. Is it a particular female that plagues you so, my brother?”

  “What? No. I’m just drunk. Stop it.”

  “As you wish.” He opened the door to the guest room and Jason flopped on the bed, his face pressing against the quilted floral duvet. Vodka-scented drool trickled from his mouth. He felt the bed’s weight shift dramatically, as though some kind of gravitational force were pushing him off. His dizziness didn’t help. When he rolled over and opened his eyes, he saw that Nathan was seated at the foot of his bed.

  “You really want a friend, don’t you?” Jason said. “Why are you still here?”

  “I may want a friend. But you, my good sir, need a friend. You have nothing, is that not the truth? The females did this to you.”

  “Women aren’t aliens, dude. Fuck, no wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend. What the hell did women do to you to make you this way?”

  As if he had been waiting a lifetime for that question, Nathan took a deep breath and prepared to speak. He removed his fedora and placed it on his lap. “I was once innocent. I once believed that in order to attract a female for sexual pleasure and companionship, my only course of action would be to be nice to her. To do her favors. To tell her how beautiful she was.”

  “Well, no. That’s called being a spineless weirdo.”

  “I did not know that at the time. My mother, may she rest in peace, taught me that women would see me for who I am inside. And what happened? The females flocked to my taller, more handsome brother, and ignored me. And so I came to realize the true nature of the females.”

  “And you seriously wonder why women don’t want you?” he asked. “You’re ridiculously bitter.”

  “One particular female germinated my worldview.” Nathan took a deep breath in, staring straight ahead at the wall instead of Jason, as if he were performing in a dramatic play. “When I was in ninth grade, a lass by the name of Sophia caught my eye. She was stunningly beautiful, with long blond hair and the face of a mystical warrior wizard. The female kind, obviously. I became friends with her, called her every night and whispered sweet nothings to her. I became her best friend, her confidant. However, I was never good enough for her to date. I was her friend through every breakup, every crush, every devastating fight fueled by her girlish fury and his brutish lack of sophistication. And she never once realized that the only true gentleman who would treat her like a lady was standing right in front of her.”

  Jason raised his eyebrows. “You realize you just described every teen romantic comedy ever, right? Is your life this much of a cliché, or is that just how you like to view it? Either way, it’s very sad.”

  Nathan turned to look at him sternly. “It is a trope because art imitates life.”

  Jason sat up, shaking his head. “You get that there are tons of reasons a woman wouldn’t date you, other than you being too nice, right? I mean, for one, you don’t seem to bathe more than once a week.”

  “I believed Sophia was deeper than that.”

  “So one girl didn’t like you. Did you ever tell her you liked her?”

  “No. I simply left a bouquet of wilted black roses by her locker with a note reading ‘From your masked guardian, lurking in the shadows in passionate silence.’”

  Jason lay back down and rolled onto his bloated belly. “Dude,” he said. “That’s fucking terrifying.”

  “She never figured out it was me. She asked me many times if I knew anyone who was watching her from afar. I said no.”

  “Well, no wonder she wasn’t into you. You did creepy shit, and then never admitted you were into her. How was she even supposed to know?”

  “Females have remarkable intuition. It makes up for their subpar logical skills and inferior upper-body strength. Oh, she knew, she knew. But she delighted in tormenting me. For four whole years I was forced into a platonic servitude that brought me nothing but misery. It is thanks to Sophia that I am the tortured soul I am today.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I experienced something similar in college,” he said, just as Jason was beginning to hope that he was wrapping things up. “There was a woman in my philosophy class. She was slender, brunette and petite with the milky white legs of a...” He paused, as if he was trying to think of a good comparison. “Of a stool,” he finally said. “A stool that’s white.”

  “Got it. Stool legs.” Jason smirked.

  “But comely. Anyway, I never could work up the courage to speak to her. So instead, I became her guardian in the dark. I followed her home each day, making sure nobody harassed her or touched her. You have no idea how many creeps are out there. I friended her on le social media—it meant but a pittance to her, since she friended everyone—and then used that to find out which events she attended. I would attend those events, as well, my eyes glued to her, ready to swoop in with my katana the minute any lesser male thought he could impress my fair lady.”

  “Your katana? You brought a katana?”

  “No. My figurative katana. Otherwise known as my mind. I would intellectually eviscerate any male who came close to her. But she never seemed to notice or care. One time, she just told her low-grade suitor that I was ‘some drunk asshole.’ I had imbibed nothing that night! Eventually I became resentful. I had been protecting her and caring for her and all for what?” Nathan’s voice had grown higher and louder. Jason was worried he might cry, so he put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder.

  “Buddy, you never spoke to her. Your whole strategy is flawed. Women don’t notice their ‘guardians in the darkness.’”

  “Exactly. This is why I cannot trust them to be true, to be genuine...to be ladies.”

  “No. Look, I’d be the first to say I don’t have a great track record for respecting women, but if you want to get laid, you need to actually talk to them. Not follow them home.”

  “Is that any better than getting my stepsister drunk w
ith the expectation of sexual intercourse? Shame on you.”

  “Yeah, shame on me. I get it, I’m a pervert.”

  Nathan turned to meet his eyes. “You may be. But tonight you have done something very few other men have done, and for that I commend you.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “You talked to me.”

  DAY 4

  Emily

  Hey there, just found out I am pregnant but haven’t gone to the doctor yet to determine how far along. Obviously unplanned. I’ve been on birth control and didn’t know I was pregnant so I have been drinking. Just want to make sure I haven’t harmed the baby. I barely ever get periods anyway because of my pill so I don’t know how long since my last period. Did any of you not show at all in the first trimester?

  DAVID LAY SNORING beside her as she typed. She always marveled at his ability to sleep while she was awake and tossing. Normally when she was trying to sleep, she worried about the latest gang initiation method only half debunked on Snopes or wild stories on BuzzFeed about women whose faces rotted off after sharing makeup brushes. If, by some miracle, she wasn’t worried about anything in particular, her brain would put on a slideshow of all the worst things she had ever done. A memory that made a regular appearance was the time she got diarrhea at camp and clogged the toilets with so much toilet paper that maintenance had to be called, and she could overhear the plumbers talking about how “they had no idea so much shit could come out of ten-year-old girls.”

  Moments after she typed her query to the pregnancy forum, she got her first response.

  “Omg if u hve been drinking durin the first three months sorry but ur baby might be retarded or something...i didnt drink at all when i was pregnant why wud u do that to ur kid???? shame on u.”

  She replied, I didn’t know I was pregnant. If I had known, I wouldn’t have drunk anything.

  Another message came in:

  “To answer your question, when I was preggers with my little Kayden I didn’t show at all until six months. My waist was 23" before pregnancy, and it was only 25" at my fourth month! People had no idea I was pregnant even into my second trimester because my waist was so tiny! (I think all the baby fat went to my big Kim K butt and 28H bewbs lol) I had no clue I was pregnant at all! But I don’t drink so I had nothing to worry about. Good luck!”

  And another:

  “This didn’t happen to me but I heard somewhere that if you aren’t showing in the first trimester your baby is probably seriously ill. Go to the ER now. What the fuck is wrong with you asking about this online? This is an emergency. SEE A DOCTOR.”

  Of course, see a doctor. That would obviously be her first course of action as soon as she returned to San Francisco, thanks to ClearDrop’s bullshit HMO, which wouldn’t cover nonemergency costs outside of California. At least if she hid this from David long enough to marry him, she’d get on Zoogli’s better health plan.

  * * *

  “You have to tell him.” Emily and Lauren were having tea in the kitchen while the rest of the house slept. Lauren put her mug down and put one hand on her hip. Only Lauren could intimidate Emily this much when apparently trying to help her. Why did she even bother saying anything? For a split second, Emily wished Lauren hadn’t been the one to take her to get the pregnancy test. If only she’d learned how to drive twelve years ago like a normal person.

  “I know,” Emily said.

  “So when?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you just going to pop it out one day and be like, ‘Oh, I didn’t know this was there?’” Lauren pantomimed a baby coming out between her legs, using her hands to form the head.

  “Well, I could be like one of those women on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.” David would have found that remark funny, if the context had been different. He and Emily loved that show, especially the dramatic reenactments with slightly hotter actors.

  “Seriously—”

  “It’s our wedding week. You know? I’m really stressed out and—I’ll wait until after, all right?”

  “Matt and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  “Thank you, Lauren. Thanks for taking time out of my crisis to humblebrag about your pseudomarriage for the nine thousandth time.”

  Lauren put her mug in the sink. “Matt and I trust each other. If I were you, I’d think about that before you walk down the aisle.”

  Maybe I should call it off, Emily thought. As much as the thought terrified her, it would be somewhat fulfilling to blow Lauren’s whole “flower person” plan out of the water.

  David

  David sat across from Nathan at Jojo’s, their favorite ice cream parlor. It had been a treat when they were little, a place their mother would take them when she wanted to spoil them, complete with the pink-and-white-striped awning, retro posters of ice cream trucks and the same classic flavors throughout the years, including a “blue mystery” flavor that was Jojo’s trademark, despite literally being vanilla with blue food coloring. As much as David and Nathan both liked Susan, they were disappointed that she preferred gelato (due to it being Italian and therefore exotic) and didn’t see the appeal of Jojo’s. Jojo’s had become a place for David and Nathan to go alone, and they hadn’t been in years.

  “Thank you for the ice cream,” Nathan said, gingerly taking a bite of dark chocolate ice cream in a bowl. “I must say, however, as I grow more mature, I develop less and less of a sweet tooth.”

  David rolled his eyes. “Right. You’re so mature and refined that you rely only on fine cuisine for nourishment: Doritos and soda.”

  Nathan failed to come up with a retort.

  As much as David wanted to savor his favorite childhood treat—the teddy bear ice cream sundae—he couldn’t let himself slip up like that. He knew his family and friends didn’t understand his commitment—some might say obsession—with eating healthy. But he would never forget the image of his mother at the end, lying in her hospital bed, looking decades older than her forty-eight years. He’d vowed he would never end up like that. Emily was the first person who really understood his fear of death. It was one of the reasons he loved her the most. She got it. Unlike his exes, she never complained about his repetitive workouts and electrolyte smoothies. She didn’t pressure him to eat greasy wings and “act like a real man.” Sometimes the two of them would stay up all night talking about mercury levels in fish.

  So no, no teddy bear sundae. Instead, he had ordered a smoothie made with Greek yogurt and organic blueberries, a new addition to the menu. He requested no sugar and was not prepared for how bad it would taste. Still, he was at Jojo’s, and the nostalgia sweetened the entire experience.

  “So did you and Maddyson have fun last night?” David asked. He regretted saying this as soon as the words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted was another argument about the ethics of sleeping with stepsiblings.

  “Not particularly,” Nathan said. “She left to go to her friend’s house. But I forgot to tell you. Jason showed up. Most likely in a pathetic attempt to deflower Maddyson, but after she left he and I spent some time together. We played video games until two in the morning and he fell asleep in the guest room.”

  David couldn’t help but laugh. Some smoothie almost got into his nose and stung his nostrils. “No way! What the fuck?”

  “Do keep your language appropriate, dear brother. There are ladies here.”

  David looked behind him to see a group of high school girls sharing one giant sundae. “I wouldn’t exactly call them ladies, Nathan. More like children. But all the more reason to be appropriate.”

  “They were looking at you,” Nathan said sullenly. “They always look at you, never me.”

  David rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing this with you again. There is so much you could do to get a girlfriend and you refuse to do it. Step one—get a job. Also, all of those girls are way t
oo young for you.”

  “Don’t you see? I want to meet a woman who likes me the way I am, not some perfected version of me. I don’t want to have to lose weight to meet a girl. I don’t want to have to make money. Why can’t someone love me the way Emily loves you?”

  “Emily probably wouldn’t have been attracted to me in the first place if I still lived with my parents and never stepped foot outside the house.”

  Nathan stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something profound to say. “Then her love shan’t be pure.”

  David snorted. “Oh, come the fuck on.”

  “Language!”

  “I’m sorry. But think about it—what would Mom say? Mom loved us unconditionally, but she wasn’t afraid to tell us where we were fu—messing up. Do you think Mom would want you to be freeloading off Dad and Susan?”

  “Such a comment is irrelevant,” Nathan said. “Mom is dead, and there is no afterlife. Thus, you are an idiot.”

  “Come on, man, I’m trying to help you. Regardless of where Mom is or isn’t, she was a person you respected, right? And her philosophy wasn’t about being complacent and bitching and moaning. She would want you to better yourself!”

  “And eat disgusting smoothies when I could eat ice cream?” Nathan asked incredulously, pointing to David’s unsatisfying, pale mixture. “No thank you.”

  David furrowed his brow and lowered his voice. “Don’t you realize that if Mom had eaten like this, she might be alive today? Breast cancer now happens to one in eight women, and that’s not even getting into the heart problems and cancers that affect men. Are you really going to give me shit for trying not to die young?”

  Nathan looked into his ice cream. “Of course you want to live a long life. Your life is one worth living.”

  * * *

  “Finally, I get to see David’s game!” Mark shouted. They were playing basketball at a playground near the Glasses’ house. “Look at you, Draymond Green, back at it again with the flagrant foul.”

  “Whoa, David,” Kevin said. “Take it easy.”