Five(27)

“She doesn’t, she just never had a pet. And she told me she was bitten as a kid, so she’s scared of dogs, that’s all it is. She loves you, and she’ll love the baby, I know she will—how could anyone not love you?” he says, lifting Livvie’s chin, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“How did she manage to raise someone as lovely as you?” Livvie says, wrapping her arms around her husband.

Nicholas remains patient with his mother through this encounter, and the next, and the one after that. When his son, Rafi, is born, he ignores his mother’s comments about the choice of name. He intercepts the set of surgical tools that she brings as a gift for Rafi’s second birthday. He even manages to broker a peace when Livvie, pregnant with their second child, is told she needs a C-section, and Mrs. Worth describes the procedure in such graphic detail that Livvie vomits.

But there finally does come a moment that Nicholas cannot save, forgive, or explain away. The time does come when he has to choose his mother or the mother of his children. And sadly for mothers, that choice is never hard for their sons to make.



* * *





“Thank you so much, Mrs. Worth,” Livvie says, evenly, trying very hard to disguise her red-hot rage and resentment. It is a Friday in the summer holidays. Rafi, now age six, has stayed home from day camp because of the twenty-four-hour rule on diarrhea. His younger brother Robi (pronounced “Robbie,” but spelled, of course, Robi), now four, should have been at a playdate at the house of a preschool friend, but the mum had to cancel because everyone in the house had lice. Livvie’s usual sitters aren’t available in the mornings, and if she doesn’t get to her interview on time, this job will slip through her fingers, just like all the others. Her mother is on a cruise, her sister is working, and Nicholas is in Paris for a meeting.

“You’ll have to call my mum,” he says. “Sorry, Livs, just this once, you know if I was home I’d drop everything.”

“God, why is the whole world against me!” Livvie wails. As she complains to her husband, she notices in the bathroom mirror that her roots are coming in. They’re quite bad under the blonde, showing not only her old mousy brunette but gray as well.

“Ugh!” she moans loudly, Horatio sits at her ankles as she plucks stray eyebrow hairs and shouts at Nicholas on speaker while she tries to make herself presentable.

It’s just a little part-time job, just something to get her out of the house and away from the children and back to some sort of life. But it’s public facing, doing free makeup and selling expensive cosmetics in an upscale boutique for rich middle-aged ladies. She really should look more put together than this, should have her hair done, should have lost ten pounds, should have topped up her gels, should have had a facial, and not only does she have to go in looking like a rag, hoping her extensive cosmetic skills speak for themselves, but now she has to call her fucking motherin-law to ask for a fucking favor.

They’ve been married seven years now, and Livvie doesn’t even care anymore that she still can’t call Mrs. Worth by her first name. She just doesn’t use a name directly with her at all, and otherwise just uses what the kids call her, Dr. Gran. They mostly stay away from each other and each hide behind Nicholas for their communications. It’s easier that way for everyone.

And when Livvie looks at it objectively, compared to her friends, she’s pretty lucky.

It’s not like Mrs. Worth is a superinvolved grandparent. She still works in the hospital morgue part-time, which makes Livvie want to gag when she thinks about it, but at least that means she doesn’t have the time to come over and meddle and be in the way and tell her she’s doing everything wrong.

Nicholas calls his mother faithfully, once a week, but she never asks to speak with Livvie. So this arrangement really isn’t so bad. Mrs. Worth isn’t nice, and Livvie knows she doesn’t like her, but she’s not nosy or pushy. She doesn’t insist on seeing the kids. She isn’t overbearing or passive-aggressive like so many of the older women Livvie knows, like her own mother. She’s just passive. And while usually that’s not a problem because they ignore each other, today it makes Livvie nervous. Her motherin-law has been alone with the kids only about four times since they were born. The most recent two occasions were disastrous, both boys in tears when Livvie returned, both screaming in the middle of the night after having bad dreams. Rafi refused to sleep in his bed for a week after the last time because Dr. Gran told him, in detail, about the procedure for killing chickens in factories to make the chicken nuggets he had had for dinner that night. He still won’t touch them, even now.

But today, Livvie needs her help. There really is no other option and it’s either call her or cancel the interview. It’s only a couple of hours, and it’s in the daytime, so how much could really go wrong? She might say weird stuff to them, but she would never hurt them. She’s a doctor, after all, Livvie reasons internally. Yeah, a doctor for dead people, the voice in her head reminds her.

“Life is really hard for mothers, Horatio,” she says to her companion, and makes the call.



* * *





“Do you really cut up dead people?” Rafi asks his grandmother.

“Yes,” Mrs. Worth says, looking at her grandson over her newspaper at the kitchen table. She goes back to reading.