But Mexico hasn’t happened yet. For now my father is falsely jolly and still in love with my mother.
“Eleanor!” He sweeps me up in his arms. “How’s my rabbit?”
I laugh and cling to him with something approaching desperation, my loose blond curls blinding him as I press my face to his.
“Daddy!” Anna comes running now like a bull, angry that I got there first, shoves me out of his arms. She is two years older than me and has more right. He doesn’t seem to notice. All he cares about is his own need to be loved. I nudge my way back in.
My mother calls out from somewhere in our sallow prewar apartment, “Henry? Do you want a drink? I’m making pork chops.”
“Love one,” he booms back, as if nothing between them has changed. But his eyes are sad.
8:15 A.M.
“So, I thought that was a success last night,” my mother says from behind a battered novel by Dumas.
“Definitely.”
“Jonas was looking well.”
My hands tense around the pile of plates I’m holding.
“Jonas is always looking well, Mum.” Thick black hair you can grasp in your fists, pale green eyes, skin burnished by sap and pine, a wild creature, the most beautiful man on earth.
My mother yawns. It’s her “tell”—she always does this before she says something unpleasant. “He’s fine, I just can’t stand his mother. So self-righteous.”
“She is.”
“As if she’s the only woman on earth who has ever recycled. And Gina. Even after all these years, I still can’t imagine what he was thinking when he married her.”
“She’s young, she’s gorgeous? They’re both artists?”
“She was young,” my mother says. “And the way she flaunts her cleavage. Always prancing around as if she thinks she’s the cat’s pajamas. Clearly no one ever told her to hide her light under a bushel.”
“It’s bizarre,” I say, going into the kitchen to dump the plates. “Self-esteem. She must have had supportive parents.”
“Well, I find it very unattractive,” Mum says. “Is there orange juice?”
I take a clean glass from the dish drain, go to the fridge. “As a matter of fact,” I call out, “that’s probably the reason Jonas fell in love with her. She must have seemed so exotic to him after the neurotic women he grew up with. Like a peacock in the woods.”
“She’s from Delaware,” my mother says, as if this closes the subject. “No one is from Delaware.”
“Exactly,” I say, handing her a glass of juice. “She’s exotic.” But the truth is, I’ve never been able to look at Gina without thinking: That’s who he chose? That’s what he wanted? I picture Gina: her petite, perfect little bee-sting of a body; curated dark roots growing into peroxide blond. Evidently, stonewashed is back.
My mother yawns again. “Well, you have to admit she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“Was there anyone at dinner you did like?”
“I’m just being honest.”
“Well, don’t be. Gina is family.”
“Only because you have no choice. She’s married to your best friend. You’ve been oil and water from the day you met.”
“That’s completely untrue. I’ve always liked Gina. We might not have a ton in common, but I respect her. And Jonas loves her.”
“Have it your way,” my mother says with a smug little smile.
“Oh my god.” I may have to kill her.
“Didn’t you once throw a glass of red wine in her face?”
“No, Mum. I did not throw a glass of wine in her face. I tripped at a party and spilled my wine on her.”
“You and Jonas were talking the whole night. What were you talking about?”
“I don’t know. Stuff.”
“He had such a crush on you when you were growing up. I think you broke his heart when you married Peter.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He was practically a kid.”
“Oh, I think it was more than that. Poor creature.” She says this idly as she returns to her book. It’s good she isn’t looking at me because, in this moment, I know my face is transparent.
Out on the pond the water is absolutely still. A fish jumps and, in its wake, leaves a trail of concentric circles. I watch them bleed out around the edges until they are reabsorbed, as if nothing ever happened.
2
8:45 A.M.
When the table is empty, dishes piled by the sink, I wait for my mother to take her cue to get up and go for her morning swim—leave me alone for ten minutes. I need to sort things out. I need clarity. Peter will be awake soon. The kids will be awake. I am greedy for time. But she holds out her coffee cup.