Knitting Under the Influence

yard. There was a basketball hoop over the garage door.

Jason was next to her again. “Anyway, I thought Zack would be like that. I thought he'd be great at sports. Denise and I both played a lot in high school and college. So I figured a kid of ours-” He stopped.

“He'll learn,” Sari said.

“I don't even know why I care so much about whether or not he can play sports,” Jason said. “It's stupid. I mean, the kid can't even talk or look people in the eye. What difference does it make if he can throw a ball or not?”

“Different things matter to different families,” Sari said. It was disturbingly easy to talk to Jason when she didn't have to look at him. “I was working with a kid once and he couldn't talk, wasn't toilet-trained, spat at people-was just a mess. And his mother said to me, ‘Please, please can you teach him to sit through a movie’? She had always pictured herself taking her kid to Disney movies, only he was scared of sitting in the dark. She wanted that before anything else. It just mattered to her. It's okay if basketball matters to you.”

“Everything matters to me,” Jason said. “I want him to play basketball and I want him to play soccer and I want him to talk like other kids and I want him to go with me to Disney movies. And about fifty million other things. I’m greedy, I guess.”

“Be greedy,” Sari said. “Want things for him. It's the greedy parents whose kids progress the most.”

“Look at him,” Jason said. “Balls and games all around him, and he just wants to turn in circles. I’ve tried taking him to some of my classes, but he always pulls shit like that, and the other kids think he's weird. And I end up mad at him. That's pretty awful, isn't it? I get mad at my own kid for being autistic. Like it's his fault.”

Sari wished she didn't know what he meant, but she used to get furious with Charlie because she couldn't make him understand that if he just acted normal, other kids would leave him alone.

“Give him time,” she said to Jason. “He'll learn to play just like the other kids.”

“It's funny-” There was a red playground ball on the ground near Jason, and he rested his heel lightly on it. “Here I am, desperate for him to be like other kids. But if you'd asked me before he was born, I’d have said I wanted my son to be different from everyone else, to stand out in a crowd.” He rolled the ball under the arch of his foot. “Be careful what you wish for, I guess.”

He suddenly kicked the ball as hard as he could. It flew over the grass of the backyard and hit a tree, which shook from the impact.

The sudden violence of the kick startled Sari, but she tried not to show it. “I’ll see if I can get him interested in making a basket,” she said.

“Can I help?” Jason said.

“No, thanks. We're fine.” She walked away from him and went to Zack.

Later that afternoon, Sari tried to convince Zack to touch his tongue to a piece of steak.

Maria had arrived at five and set to work preparing Zack's dinner-pasta with butter. Sari, who had been just about to leave, stopped to ask some questions about Zack's diet. Under questioning, Maria reluctantly admitted that toast, pasta, bagels, and Cheerios were pretty much all he ate. Sari asked if Maria ever offered him other foods and she said she used to, but he never ate any of them, so she had stopped trying.

“We've got to work on this,” Sari said.

“He eats healthy,” Maria said. “He drinks milk and juice. And not too many cookies. I don't give him too many cookies or candy.”

“That's great,” Sari said. “But he needs to be eating meat and chicken and cheese and fruits and vegetables. How much of those does he eat?”

“Not so much,” Maria said. “Bananas, sometimes.”

The kitchen smelled good-far better than boiling pasta ever did-and Sari looked around, sniffing. “What else are you cooking?”

“Steak,” Maria said. “For my dinner.” Adding quickly, “It's fine with Jason.”

“I’m sure it is,” Sari said. “When it's done, I’d like to have Zack taste it. From now on, I don't want you to give Zack the food he already likes until he's tried a taste of something new. It's enough for him just to put his tongue to it. But he's got to try.”

“He eats healthy,” Maria said again.

“Tell me when the steak's done,” Sari said and planted herself at the kitchen table.

Zack had been standing in the doorway humming to himself during the exchange and now came into the kitchen and climbed into the chair across from her. His right hand came to rest, palm down, on the table. Sari leaned forward and put her hand on top of his. Zack instantly moved his hand away. Sari covered it again. This time, Zack gave a little giggle and when he moved his hand, he glanced quickly at her. Sari covered his hand again with hers. Zack chorded. They did this a few more times and then Sari put her hand flat on the table. “Your turn,” she said. She waited. Zack looked at her sideways, then darted his hand forward and put it on top of hers. She covered it with her free hand. “Got you!” she said, and he exploded in laughter.

“That's good.”

Sari looked up to see Maria standing next to them, watching, a plate in her hand.

“It's nice to see him laughing with you,” the housekeeper said. She put the plate down in front of Sari. There was a small piece of steak on it. Maria also handed her a fork and knife and napkin.

“Thank you,” Sari said, arranging it all on the table. “This is perfect.”

“He won't eat it,” Maria said. “Meat makes him do this-” and she made a retching sound.

“Oh, good,” Sari said brightly. “Let's model gagging for him.”

“I’m just telling you.”

“Well, don't. Not in front of him.” She turned to Zack. “Okay, my friend.” She cut off a tiny bit of steak, then stuck a fork into it, and held it up like a steak popsicle. “One taste of this and you get a plate of delicious hot buttered pasta. You want pasta, don't you?”

He grunted and rocked.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Taste the steak and you get your pasta.” Sari held the fork out to him and he didn't move. “Come on, Zack. One little taste. Just a lick.” She moved the steak closer to his mouth but he clamped his lips shut and pulled his head back, away from the fork.

That's when Jason walked in. Sari hadn't seen him since dismissing him from the basketball court. He stopped at the sight of her. “You're still here?”

“I wanted to help with dinner,” Sari said.

There was no mistaking the look of renewed hope on his face. He came closer. “Is that steak? Zack wont eat that. He hates meat.”

“He'll learn to eat it,” Sari said. “But not if people keep reminding him he doesn't like it.”

“Sorry.”

“It's okay. But I do want to see him trying new foods. The best way to get him to do that is to wait to give him what he wants until he tastes something he doesn't usually eat. I’ll show you what I mean.” She turned her attention back to Zack. “Lick the steak, Zack, and then it's pasta time.” She put the steak lollipop close to his lips. This time, he gagged audibly. “Come on, buddy. One little taste.” She pretended to put it in her own mouth. “Like this. And then you'll get your pasta.” Zack shook his head.

Jason was watching intently, standing right next to her. He smelled like a mixture of musk and fresh sweat.

It wasn't a bad smell.

Sari snuck a covert glance up at him. His T-shirt was damp at the armpits and chest, and his arms looked even more cut than usual. He must have been working out somewhere in the house.

He was frowning down at his son. “I don't know why Zack chose to become such a determined vegetarian. I’m sure it was for some deep, spiritual reason.”

“Maybe he's just worried about mad cow disease,” Sari said.

“Ha. That's one of Denise's nightmares. She ate a hamburger in London years ago and whenever she has trouble remembering something, she's convinced her brain is turning to soup.”

“Does she still eat meat?”

“Only if it's grain-fed and organic and all that.” He went over to a cabinet and opened it. “It's cocktail hour, isn't it? Anyone care to join me? Sari? Maria? Zack?”