“I haven’t set any goals,” says Seth. “I already told you, it wasn’t exactly my idea to come here.”
“Whose idea was it?” asks Tom.
“My mom’s, I guess.”
“And why do you think she wants you to go to therapy?”
“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her,” answers Seth.
There is a touch of defiance in his voice, but it’s nothing Tom hasn’t seen before. Tom lets the room stay silent, giving Seth the space to say more, if he wants. Part of being a psychiatrist is learning to endure these awkward moments.
“I see you brought the board down,” Seth says, after a while.
“I thought we might play a little, if you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it.”
As it turns out, Tom and Seth are pretty evenly matched. Tom lets the game run out the clock, and when he says, “Time’s up,” Seth doesn’t conceal his disappointment.
That night, before going to sleep, Jackie asks Tom about Seth.
Tom thinks for a moment. “He’s doing all right, I guess. He’s a funny kid.”
“You know, he’s not popular. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t belong to any groups at all. There aren’t many students like that at Friends’ Central. If they’re not popular, they’re into drama or something,” says Jackie.
“He’s into chess,” says Tom.
“Oh really? I didn’t know that.”
“We played today. He’s good. Really good.”
“Hey, you know what you should do?” says Jackie.
“What?” he asks unenthusiastically.
“Switch sides. Turn the board around. Then you’ll have to think like him and he’ll have to think like you.” Pleased with herself, Jackie kisses Tom and turns off the light.
The next time Seth comes in, Tom has the board set up between them on an old card table. The pieces are ready and waiting. They play five moves and then Tom turns the board around. Seth looks at him skeptically but doesn’t ask for an explanation, and Tom doesn’t offer one.
Viewing the board from Seth’s perspective, Tom sees a complex web of attacks and defenses he only half understood from the other side. Seth’s strategy is impressive, and as the board turns back and forth neither gains nor loses much ground.
It isn’t until the third session of this game that Seth begins to open up on his own. Over the next several weeks, he tells Tom, in pieces at first, of an older woman he works for named Marianne. Several months ago, he saw a job posted on the Whole Foods community board for a gardener/general yard worker for a house in the neighborhood, and when he went to ask about it, Marianne hired him on the spot.
Seth even describes the house-a big, gray Victorian with azaleas out front. “She had me paint the columns on the porch pink and green,” he tells Tom.
Immediately, Tom knows the house. There aren’t many Victorian-style houses around, and he can picture that porch. At first he can’t place it, but then he remembers; it’s just around the corner on Windsor Avenue.
It doesn’t take long for Tom to realize that Seth and Marianne are having an affair. Seth is smart and deliberately drops little hints. Initially, it’s just the general way he talks about her, saying things like, “Marianne likes me to come over straight from school,” or Marianne wants this and says that, etc. The more Seth lays it out for him, the more dubious Tom becomes. It’s possible, isn’t it, that Seth’s leading him on, just to stay entertained? Of course, if Seth really is having this affair, the worst thing Tom could do is not believe him, so he puts his doubts aside, confident that the truth will out itself.
From what Tom can gather, the affair is surprisingly sexually mature, and other than the considerable age difference, there is no outward manipulation. But when Seth answers Tom’s questions, he’s using someone else’s words. This is what worries Tom the most-Seth has no perspective. He doesn’t know which way is up and which is down.
Tom thinks very carefully about how to proceed. He considers it to the point of agony, but doesn’t discuss it with Jackie, sure that she’ll overreact. Ultimately he decides that since Seth is almost eighteen, he should keep the information confidential. The circus that it could create would be far more damaging to Seth than if they managed it together, through therapy.
So, in their next appointment, Tom decides to address the topic more frankly, and ask questions that encourage Seth to speak freely about the relationship. What do you talk about? Not very much. What do you do? Have sex, mostly. Are there any other girls who you are interested in? No, not exactly.
Eventually Tom asks, “Do you love her?”
“No,” Seth laughs, as if to say,
The following weekend, Tom finds himself driving by the gray Victorian. The car in front of him has one of those bumper stickers that Tom hates:
The next day, passing by, he sees her. She is leaning against her doorframe, staring into nothing as if she is remembering something. Tom takes off his sunglasses to get a better look. He can’t believe it, but it’s her: Amelia Watson. She’s lost some weight and she’s dressing differently, maybe even dyed her hair too, but it is most definitely, unmistakably her, Amelia goddamn Watson. From the dark of the hallway, Seth emerges. She leans forward like she is going to kiss him goodbye, right there in the open. But before she gets too close, she catches herself and touches his shoulder instead. Tom slumps in the seat as Seth walks away, and Amelia retreats into the house.
At home, Tom unlocks his filing cabinet and thumbs through the manila folders until he finds it.
It’d gone on for several months, and Jackie never knew. They’d kept up their weekly appointments for appearance, and they’d even done it on the couch in this very office. Once they started fucking it became impossible to talk, and the fifty-minute sessions were painfully slow. He’d ended it eventually, and Amelia had agreed it was best for her to move in with her sister in Rhinebeck, New York, where things are quieter and there are more open spaces. Tom even gave her the name of a therapist up there, a woman who’d come highly recommended.
That night, Tom takes Jackie out to dinner. Almost every Saturday they go into the city to try the latest restaurant written up in the
At home, Jackie suggests they to go for a night swim, something she likes to do when her belly is full and her mood is high. They change into their bathing suits, wrap themselves in towels, and go out onto the deck. Jackie walks down the steps to the poolside, and Tom crosses the deck to switch on the underwater light. As soon as he flips it on, Jackie screams. In their neighborhood, which some say was designed to be an outdoor amphitheater, whispers carry like they do in the valleys of mountains. Hers is not a scream that Narbrook Circle has heard before, and to be sure, all of Narbrook Circle hears her scream.
Tom is at the railing. He sees what she sees, a body of a man-a boy-floating facedown in the pool. He doesn’t have to look any closer to know that it’s Seth Lever.
The police arrive, Jackie is crying, and the whole neighborhood is out, trying to get a look. Tom wishes, more than anything, that he were wearing something besides a bathing suit. The yard is roped off, there are police swarming the property, red lights shining on the pine trees. Everyone whispers that it’s suicide. By the time they get Seth out of the pool, it’s after midnight. They ask Tom to put on some clothes and drive down to the station, which he does. They don’t make him bring Jackie with him. He tells them everything he can, but he doesn’t mention Amelia Marianne.
