“You know what? Really the job’s not so bad. I mean, it’s shit, it’s not my thing, but you get used to it, and actually my coworkers are nice. We go out for a drink on Fridays when we’re done.”
“Are you trying to replace me?”
“Have another friend like you? Not if they paid me.”
I took a sip, savored it, and stretched out my legs. “Hey, weren’t you hooking up with someone? What was her name?”
“Bega.”
“What happened with her?” I asked.
“Nothing. I bang her. Sometimes. In the office.”
“You’re hooking up with a coworker?”
“I’m hooking up with my boss.”
It took me a moment to realize that for him, this little slipup was a breath of fresh air, something wild that he could hold on to in the midst of a life that he had never wanted. That need to rebel somehow to feel he wasn’t getting lost in his responsibilities, his schedule, order.
“Is it worth it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure.” I took a sip.
“I like her, but it’s complicated, she just lives to work. But what we have—that’s it. I have important things to worry about, I can’t risk all that. And I don’t know if I want to. We’re not like that, are we, Axel?”
“Like what?”
“Commitment. Getting tied down.”
“I don’t know.”
After thinking it over a lot, I had come to the conclusion that I didn’t know many things, especially about stuff that hadn’t happened yet. I had realized that because I’d spent so many years clinging to what I thought I knew, that I would become a painter or that nothing would ever happen to the people close to me, my family. I was wrong. So now I never assumed anything.
“I guess I don’t either,” he admitted.
“So the idea is Leah’s going to go to college, right?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m talking about you. About what you’ll do then. About that responsibility that you have now but you won’t have forever. I know you’ve got the tuition and the apartment for her, but it’s not the same. You can take back part of your life. And if she starts painting again…”
“She won’t,” Oliver cut me off.
“If it does happen…” I went on, remembering the promise I made to Douglas one night lying on my porch, “I’ll help her figure out her path.”
Oliver finished his drink. “She’s not going to do it. Don’t you see that? She’s a different person.”
“But she is doing it,” I said softly, and for some reason, I felt weird sharing it, as if I were betraying her, her trust, our bond. But shit, he was her brother; he was worried.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. She’s not doing a lot. And no colors.”
Oliver sat there thinking. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
The question I didn’t want to hear. “Maybe you’re too close. Why are there are people who can open up and talk with a psychologist about things they can’t tell their own family? I guess sometimes being so close to someone makes things harder. And I think…I think she feels guilty with you, because of all the changes…”
He stared into his empty glass and ignored the loud music around us.
I felt an unknown pressure in my chest.
“I’ll do it, I promise.” I stood up. “Come on, let’s have some fun.”
41
_________
Leah
I rubbed my eyes and sat down on a stool next to Oliver in front of the bar in the kitchen where we often had breakfast. I drank a bit of orange juice.
“Leah, you know I love you, right?”
I looked at him. Surprised. Timid. Scared.
“You’re the most important person in my life. It doesn’t matter what you ask me for, I’ll always say yes. We’re alone now, you and me, but we’ll find a way to get ahead and stay together. I want you to trust me, okay? And if you ever feel like talking, no matter what time it is or if I’m in Sydney, call me. I’ll be waiting on the other line.”
I breathed, breathed, breathed deeper…
June
* * *
(WINTER)
42
_________
Axel
“How was parole? you have fun?” I asked when Oliver left. I followed Leah to her room and crossed my arms while she set her suitcase next to the closet. “What’s up?”
Leah looked at me, on edge. “I want you to help me.”
My heart started pounding. “I’m here. You can trust me.”
“Thanks.” She looked away. “I’m going to put my clothes away.”
I noticed how she wiped the sweat from the palms of her hands on her jeans, how her nerves shook her, the stiffness in her shoulders.
“What would you like for dinner? Don’t prisoners have a special day when they get to choose their menu or something?”
She smiled a little and the tension dissipated.
“Come on, it’s your chance; pick the menu.”
“Between broccoli and chard? Hm.”
“Vegetable lasagna? With lots of cheese.”
“Perfect,” she said and opened her suitcase.
I put on a record, and music filled each corner of the house while I started chopping the vegetables into little pieces. I thought about that I want you to help me that had almost been a plea, and the mixed bravery and fear and how it was hard to tell where one sentiment began and the other ended.
“Can I help you with anything?” Leah asked.
“Yeah, grab the tray.”
We ended up making it together, but I wasn’t sure if it was really a lasagna or just a scramble of vegetables, pasta, and ridiculous quantities of cheese. While it was baking, we cleaned the kitchen and washed up––I soaped, she rinsed.
We had dinner in silence on the porch.
When we were done, I went inside to get a pen and paper.
“This is the plan. We’re going to do things this month. New things. Things that make us feel. The other day I was thinking of all those people who live sort of automatically, without really being aware of what they’re doing; you know the ones I’m talking about?”
Leah nodded slowly.
“Right, so that’s what I was thinking of…and whether it’s possible to forget how to be happy, to look back one day and realize you’ve been dissatisfied for years, empty.”
“It’s possible, I guess.”
“I was thinking about what I would do if that happened to me. What things would make me remember that feeling of fulfillment. And I don’t know, the stuff that popped into my head was so basic. But also weird things. Like eating spaghetti, for example.” She laughed, and I held on to that sound, so vibrant, so alive. “I’m serious; shit, it’s a pleasure. And I regret all those times I finished a plate without really tasting it, because I think now, being aware, I would really enjoy it. Stop laughing, ba…”