I guess the point is that, yes, I am always the one to respond. But that’s no guarantee that the response will be the right one.
All I’m good at, it seems, is showing up. And even that’s a challenge—like when Johan and I get back to the living room and find a strangely silent disarray. Frederyk and KK are uncomfortably sharing a love seat. Li has her eyes closed and is breathing deeply. Parker looks amused. Jason looks unamused. And Ilsa looks—
Ilsa looks—
Ilsa looks—
Blank. The lights are on, but she’s still in the blackout.
Failure to adjust.
I can hear the rain outside, insisting we pay attention. I can smell the liquor on the room’s breath.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
This brings Ilsa back—but only partly.
It’s Parker who responds. “Lights went out, and KK got all freaky with Sesame Street over here.”
KK stands up and smooths her French maid outfit. “It was dark. I needed male attention. I was curious if this would be two for the price of one—and, let me tell you, it was.”
Frederyk looks a little dashed on the rocks by this explanation. Caspian remains impassive.
“I think the window’s leaking,” Li says.
She points at a juncture where the windowpane isn’t quite slipping into the frame. A thin stream of water is running down the wall onto the floor.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” I cry, then run into the kitchen for some paper towels. When I return, I go into full-on sop mode. Li has to step aside for me to do it.
“Do you need help?” Johan offers.
“No! I’m fine!” I say, even as I wonder if the paint is going to have a water stain. Or maybe the whole frame will warp.…
“You are not fine,” Ilsa says. I look back at her and notice she hasn’t moved since I walked back in with Johan.
“This isn’t a problem,” I tell her. I’m plugging the gap between the window and the frame with paper towels. I can get duct tape and seal it properly in a second.
“I’m not saying that’s a problem,” Ilsa replies, pointing at the window. “I’m saying this is a problem.” She gestures around the room.
“Thanks a lot,” Parker says.
“I am not experiencing a problem,” KK rebuffs.
Jason releases something halfway between a laugh and a huff.
“What are you saying?” I ask. Because for once, I genuinely don’t know.
“I’m saying, why the fuck are we throwing this party? Why are all of these people here? Why do we bother doing all of this, if it’s only going to turn to shit? This was supposed to be a recess from the humdrum, but I feel it’s just another version of the humdrum. Dress it up however you want—we’re still stuck, and I’m tired of it, Sam. I’m tired of you fussing and making nice. I’m tired of KK doing whatever she wants, whenever she wants. I’m tired of trying to figure out if Parker is a red state or a blue state when it comes to my election. I’m tired of Jason taking on the role of inquisitor, when he knows me about as well as Caspian here knows what it’s like to have legs or Johan knows how to return your flirtation. For that matter, I’m tired of Frederyk not being what I wanted him to be. He was supposed to shake up your world, Sam—not make a mess of mine.”
“Poor Ilsa,” Jason mock sobs. I note the bottle in his hand.
“What has Sam’s lasagna done to you?” KK asks. “I knew it was trouble.”
I leave the paper towels in the gap and walk over to my sister. “Look,” I say, “it’s been a lot. Do you want to go lie down? We can start dessert without you.…”
She swats me away, even though I haven’t tried to touch her.
“I don’t want to lie down! You’re not my parent, Sam—you’re my brother. This was such a bad idea—I need to go. No, seriously, that’s it. I need to go.”
I know what she’s just stated, but still I find myself saying, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
Then, without stopping to get her keys or her purse or her coat, she walks out of the room, out of the hall, out of the apartment. We all hear the door open and then close behind her.
“I’ll go get her,” Parker says.
“No,” I tell him. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh, let her have her tantrum,” KK advises. “She’ll be back. It’s not like she has anywhere else to go.”
“You’re such a good friend!” Jason comments. “You’re so lucky to have her! I mean, she’s so lucky to have you.”
Parker starts to head out. But Li body-blocks him.
“No,” she says. “I’ll go.”
Parker starts to argue, but Li cuts him off.
“I was the only one not mentioned in her roll call of gripes. I’ve got this. I don’t expect you or Sam to understand, but it has to be me.”
“What about me?” KK asks.
Li gives her a once-over. “Why don’t you stay here and ask yourself that while I go find my friend?”
With that, she leaves us. We all hear the door open and then hear it close.
“Anyone else want a drink?” Jason offers.
Caspian pats the empty space on the love seat, and KK returns to it.
I turn to Parker.
“Don’t look at me!” he says. “I didn’t do anything!”
I turn to Johan.
He smiles and asks, “Time for dessert?”
eleven
ILSA
“What happened?” Li asks me as I open the door to the roof deck. “Did the lightning suddenly strike you with bitchheart?”
I laugh as we walk through the entryway. I go to the outdoor storage shed, take a thick blanket from it, and then place it over the wet wood bench that sits under the canopy trellis, whose leaves are soaked and dripping. The storm has passed, leaving behind a breathtakingly clear view of the city skyline, and fresh, damp air that does nothing to appease the evil thoughts lurking within my wicked brain.
We sit down on the (mostly) dry blanket. I say, “It was pretty
