Wife 22

That you try not to think about me.

What about you?

Are you asking if I think about you?

Yes.

I’m going to take a pass on that question. Is the survey over?

It can be if you want it to be.

Do I still get my $1,000?

Of course.

I don’t want it.

Are you sure?

It just seems wrong given what’s happened.

I wasn’t lying, you know.

About what?

I did fall for you.

Thank you for saying that.

If I hadn’t been married…

And if I hadn’t been married…

We never would have met.

Online.

Yes, online.

90

Bunny and I are sitting at the kitchen table, working our way through a bowl of pistachios and a pile of scripts, when Peter walks in with a friend.

“Do we have any pizza rolls?” he asks.

“No, but we have Hot Pockets.”

“You’re kidding,” he says, his eyes aglow.

“Yes, I am,” I say. “Do you think your father would allow that kind of junk food in the house?”

I extend my hand to his friend.

“I’m Peter’s mother, Alice Buckle. If it was up to me we’d have a freezer full of Hot Pockets, but since we don’t, I can offer you Wasa crackers with almond butter. I’m sorry, I wish I had Skippy, but that’s on the blacklist, too. I think there are a few hard-boiled eggs in the fridge if you’re allergic to nuts.”

“Should I call you Alice or Mrs. Buckle?” he asks.

“You may call me Alice, although I appreciate you asking. It’s a West Coast thing,” I explain to Bunny. “All the kids call adults by their first names out here.”

“Except for teachers,” says Peter.

“Teachers are called ‘dude,’ ” I say. “Or maybe ‘du.’ Is the ‘de’ silent these days?”

“Stop showing off,” says Peter.

“Well, I am Mrs. Kilborn and you may call me Mrs. Kilborn,” says Bunny.

“And you are?” I ask the boy.

“Eric Haber.”

Eric Haber? The Eric Haber I thought Peter had a secret crush on? He’s adorable: tall, eyes the color of peanut brittle, obscenely long lashes.

“Peter talks about you all the time,” I say.

“Stop it, Mom.”

A look passes between Eric and Peter, and Peter shrugs.

“So what are you two up to? Just hanging out?”

“Yeah, Mom, hanging out.”

I stack the scripts in a pile. “Well, we’ll leave you to it. Let’s go out on the deck, Bunny. Eric, I hope to be seeing more of you.”

“Uh-yeah, okay,” he says.

“What was all that about?” asks Bunny when we’ve settled out on the deck.

“I thought Eric was Peter’s secret crush.”

“Peter’s gay?”

“No, he’s straight, but I thought he might be gay.”

Bunny takes some sunscreen out of her bag and rubs it on her arms slowly.

“You’re very close to Zoe and Peter, aren’t you, Alice?” she says.

“Well, sure.”

“Mm-hmm,” she says, offering me the tube. “Mustn’t forget the neck.”

“You say ‘mm-hmm’ like there’s something wrong with that. Like you don’t approve. Do you think I’m too close?”

Bunny rubs the excess sunscreen into the back of her hands.

“I think you’re-enmeshed,” she says carefully. “You’re very intense with them.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Alice, how old were you when your mother died?”

“Fifteen.”

“Tell me something about her.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. Whatever comes to mind.”

“She wore big gold hoop earrings. She wore Jean Nate body splash and she drank gin and tonic all year round, didn’t matter the season. She said it made her feel like she was always on vacation.”

“What else?” asks Bunny.

“Let me guess. You want me to go deeeeeper,” I sigh.

Bunny grins.

“Well, I know this sounds funny, but for a few months after she died I thought she might come back. I think it had something to do with the fact that she went so suddenly; it was impossible to process that she was there one minute and gone the next. Her favorite movie was The Sound of Music. She even looked a little like Julie Andrews. She wore her hair short, and she had the most beautiful, long neck. I kept expecting her to suddenly pop around a tree and sing to me, like when Maria sang that song to Captain von Trapp. What was the name of that song?”

“Which one? When she realizes she’s fallen for him?” asks Bunny.

“So here you are standing there loving me. Whether or not you should,” I sing softly.

“You have a lovely voice, Alice. I didn’t know you could sing.”

I nod.

“And your father?” asks Bunny.

“He was absolutely wrecked.”

“Did you have help? Aunts and uncles? Grandparents?”

“Yes, but after a few months it was just the two of us.”

“You must have been very close,” Bunny says.

“We were. We are. Look, I know I’m too involved in their lives. I know I can be overbearing and intense. But Zoe and Peter need me. And they’re all I have.”

“They’re not all you have,” says Bunny. “And you have to start the process of letting them go. I’ve gone through this with three children already-believe me, I know. Fundamentally you have to make a break. In the end they’ll turn out to be exactly who they are, not who you want them to be.”

“Are you ready, Alice?” Caroline comes bounding out on the deck, dressed in her running gear.