“I love this show.” I paused, a brown bag of groceries in my arms. Izzy paused beside me. She was carrying the lightest bag.
“Come watch!” Sheba patted the cushion beside herself.
“I have to put away the groceries,” I said.
“Mary Jane,” Dr. Cone said. “Watch TV. I’ll put everything away.”
I looked at him for a second to see if he was serious. He and Mrs. Cone were paying me. Was it really okay for me to get paid to sit on a couch and watch Green Acres with Sheba and Jimmy? “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Sit. Relax. You work too hard.”
“Sit!” Sheba said.
“Okay!” I went to the kitchen, put down my bag, and then returned to the couch. Sheba patted the cushion again. I sat and tucked my feet under my bottom, mimicking her posture.
“I love Mr. Haney,” Jimmy said.
“Me too.”
Izzy came into the living room and snuggled into me the way Sheba was snuggled into Jimmy. “Why is there a pig in the house?”
“That’s Arnold Ziffel,” Jimmy said. “He’s like their son.”
“Why does that lady talk like that?”
“She’s a Gabor,” I said. “She and her twin sister are very beautiful and they’re from another country. Maybe Hungary.”
“She’s a bitch,” Sheba said. “In real life.”
“You know her?”
“Yeah. Snobby and mean. Huge boobs. Fake nails.”
“But Eddie Albert”—Jimmy pointed to the screen—“damn nice guy. Can drink a fuck of a lot.”
“Do you know everyone on TV?” I asked.
Jimmy and Sheba looked at each other as if they were thinking about it. A commercial for Trix cereal came on. The manic white rabbit ran around screaming, “Trix are for kids! Trix are for kids!”
“You know,” Sheba said at last, “I’ve been in the business for so long, I do know just about everyone. And Jimmy’s toured for so many years that he’s met everyone too.”
“Yeah. People want to come backstage, they join the tour, they come to the hotel to party. . . .” Jimmy shrugged.
“No more parties,” Sheba said. A commercial for Control Data Institute, a technical school, came on. We all watched as if we were ready to enroll.
That first-day fight between Jimmy and Sheba was like a fire hose that cleared away all the debris. From Green Acres on, everyone in the house seemed happier and more relaxed than usual. Jimmy and Dr. Cone did therapy on the beach, but it was intermittent and brief. They had a spot between two sand dunes that they called “the Office.” They’d laid down a bedsheet there that was quickly half covered with sand.
Sheba and Mrs. Cone and Izzy and I set up chairs and towels and a cooler on the first stretch of dry sand in front of the water, directly in line with the Office. When I turned around, I could see Jimmy eating Screaming Yellow Zonkers, nodding as Dr. Cone talked, or sometimes talking as Dr. Cone nodded. Every now and then he put down the snacks and lay on the sheet, curled up on his side. I got nervous when he did that, but he didn’t look like he was in pain, or crying.
Sheba and Mrs. Cone abandoned all wigs, as the beach really was private. We could see anyone coming from way down it, and whenever we did, Sheba would slip on a pair of sunglasses that covered her face from her eyebrows to her lips. She’d put on a hat, too, to hide all that long, thick black hair. Mrs. Cone often put on shades and a hat when Sheba did. “In case it’s someone I know,” she said to me once.
Izzy and I dug holes, built sandcastles, and went in and out of the water. Sheba and Mrs. Cone also took Izzy in the water, which gave me time to sit and read my book. I’d found the book Jaws on a shelf in the living room of the house. It was about a shark attack on a beach on Long Island, but it didn’t make me afraid to go in the water.
Whenever Jimmy and Dr. Cone weren’t in the Office, they were on the beach too. Jimmy liked taking Izzy in the water. He’d throw her up in the air and catch her again. Dr. Cone read his book and often napped with a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes.
Every day, Jimmy went for a walk alone, to clear his head. Before he took off, he pulled out his shorts pockets—when he was wearing shorts instead of a suit—and presented his behind to Dr. Cone to pat. After the pat down, Izzy and I would go up to the house and make dinner. I liked our time in the kitchen. After a day in the sun and water, there was a peacefulness to the warm kitchen, the quiet of the house, the stillness of the air.