Heart the Lover (33)

It is perhaps as confusing for you to be here as it is for me.

Jack takes our bowls to the sink and puts a deck of cards on the table. ‘What are we playing?’

‘Do you mind?’ I say to you.



‘No. Cards are great,’ you say. I can tell you haven’t played a card game in a long time.

Jack shuffles and you laugh as his small hands split, riffle, and bridge the deck back together. ‘Only a child of yours could do that so young,’ you say.

We’ve been in a Rummy 500 phase all summer so it’s a surprise when Jack says, ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster?’

‘No,’ Harry says. ‘It takes too long to teach.’

‘You can make a chart,’ Jack says.

‘I know how to play,’ you say.

The boys don’t believe you. No one outside our family has ever heard of this game. You insist that you do, and they tell you to prove it by naming a whole family.

You smile. You love a challenge to your memory. ‘All right.’ You look at Silas. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster.’

The boys nod.

You look at me. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster’s wife.’ You nodded at Harry. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster’s eldest son.’ You turn to Jack. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster’s ten children.’ You glance over at the dogs, asleep on the couches beyond the wood stove. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster’s nine servants.’ The boys laugh. You pause. You look around for the cat but she’s vanished. ‘Sir Hincomb Funnibuster’s parrot.’

‘No!’ The boys shake their heads furiously.

‘You always forget the donkey,’ I say.



You grin at me. ‘I do. I always forget the donkey.’ I can’t help smiling back. ‘Okay. The donkey, the parrot, the twins, and the baby!’

‘How does he know?’ Harry asks me.

‘Our friend Ivan taught it to us. Many years ago.’

‘I didn’t know it came from Ivan,’ Silas says.

Harry can’t understand this, these years before him, before our family existed. He looks at Silas. ‘You weren’t there?’

Silas shakes his head. ‘I didn’t know them then.’

Jack, dealing out the cards, is taking in this information easily, but Harry looks like he would like to go up to his room and mull over questions of time and existence for a few hours.

We fan out our cards. Silas keeps his low, close to the table. He’s started to do that lately, hold things farther away to read them. You’re making the little humming noises you always make when organizing your hand.

‘You’re left of the dealer,’ Jack tells you.

‘Oh, excuse me. Silas?’ I could tell you were up to a little mischief.

‘Yes.’

‘May I please have Heart the Lover?’

‘Yes, you may.’ Silas passes the king of hearts face up, close to you, trying to get you to touch it before saying thank you.



‘I thought you might,’ you say and reach for the card and we get ready to scream. A half inch before you touch it you say, ‘Thank you,’ and pick up the king with a flourish that makes the boys laugh. ‘Silas,’ you continue.

‘Yes.’

‘May I please have Heart the Lover’s wife?’

‘No, you may not.’

‘Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying,’ he says.

Silas and I chuckle and Harry asks why that was funny and now I’m the one who wants to go upstairs to ponder time and existence for a while.

I lose twice. I don’t keep track of what people have. Jack is dismayed by my poor performance. He and Harry, flushed and hoarse from the yelling, beg for another round, but Silas tells them to say their goodnights. They stand up reluctantly. I hug them tight and kiss their steamy hair. You stand up and say you’ll be off early in the morning and might not see them and they both wrap their arms around your waist. Silas says he might miss you, too, as he has to be at school at seven tomorrow.

‘Great meeting you after all this time,’ Silas says and gives you a loose hug and a few pats.

I don’t want them to go upstairs but they do.

‘Good guy,’ you say.

‘Yeah. He is.’ I go to put the kettle on. ‘Tea?’



‘Sure.’

You lean your back against the kitchen counter as we wait for the water to boil. I feel a bit giddy from the game and terrified to be alone with you.

‘Does he maybe look a little like Sam?’

‘Seriously?’

‘In the face? Around the mouth maybe?’ You push your lips together with your fingers.

‘No. Stop.’

My alarm amuses you.

‘Good lord.’ I get mugs from the shelf, boxes of tea from the cabinet. I need to redirect things. ‘So, are you seeing anyone?’

‘Like a shrink?’

‘Like a person.’

‘No shrink. No woman. No cry.’ You smile at your little joke.

On one of our first dates Silas told me when he was younger he thought it was ‘No Woman, No Crime.’

‘No dating?’

‘I participate in the courting ritual from time to time.’ You choose a teabag and a mug. ‘It’s scary out there, now that I have this profession. Women like a guy with a job. They love a worker bee. It’s like they see the pollen on my legs.’ He brushes his pants with both hands. ‘But what else am I going to do with my time? All my friends have disappeared into their houses. I only see them if I get invited to the sidelines of one of their kids’ soccer games. What is it with soccer? It’s so fucked up.’