Knitting Under the Influence

“You should!” the other said-the one who had kids, a boy and a girl, who had eaten a few bites of food at the table, then started hitting each other before one of the women in black and white had whisked them out of the room.

As they all rose to their feet and moved away from the table, Kathleen said to Kevin, “We'd better get going-I told my mom we'd be there at six.”

“I can't go right now,” Kevin said. “My dad-”

“It's already past six-thirty.”

“Can you call her and tell her we'll be late?”

She lowered her voice. “Can't you just skip your father's meeting?”

“That's not a good idea,” he said, his eyes flickering over to check where his father and brothers were. They hadn't left the room yet.

“Why not? You'll see him on Monday.”

“This stuff is important, Kathleen. I can't not be there. It wouldn't be right. Can't you just wait until we're done?”

“How long will it take?”

“Half an hour?” he said with no conviction. “Maybe less, maybe more. I honestly don't know.”

“In that case, do you mind if I head on over to the McMansion by myself?”

He looked relieved. “Not at all. You should. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done and join up with you there.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips and then scurried to catch up with his brothers and father, who were leaving the room in a tight knot. Kathleen doubted she would see him at her sisters’ later.

IV

Oh, Lord,” Eloise Hill said, “we thank you for your bounty and for bringing us all together on this special day and for providing us with food for our table and shelter for our bodies and…”

She went on for a while longer like that.

Sari rolled her eyes at Lucy, who kicked her in the shin under the table.

“Can we eat now?” Sari asked as soon as her mother had finally said “Amen” and lifted up her head. “Or do we have to thank God for giving us the 405 freeway, too? Because, you know, we couldn't have actually gotten here without it.”

“Here, Lucy,” Sari's mother said, picking up a pretty painted bowl. “Please try the potatoes. I may not have made them myself, but I tasted them in the kitchen and I must say they're delicious. A tiny bit on the salty side…”

“Yum,” said Lucy, who hadn't touched a potato in any form in over five years. She took the bowl and made a show of putting a spoonful on her plate.

“Who's having wine?” asked Sari's father. It was the first thing he had said all afternoon, other than a brief, vague greeting.

“I’d definitely like a glass of wine,” Sari said, and Lucy pushed her own glass toward Gerald Hill and said, “Me, too, please.”

Everyone had a glass of wine, except for Charlie, who drank white milk and ate only the mashed potatoes. After he had finished his plateful of potatoes, he got up from the table without another word and clomped his way back into the family room.

“If you're not going to make him sit through dinner, you could at least teach him to excuse himself,” Sari said to her mother.

“Charlie knows he's excused. We don't stand on formalities here.” Her mother extended her empty wineglass into the air in front of her. Her husband leaned forward and refilled it. They didn't look at each other. Eloise took a sip of wine and turned to Lucy. “Did you see the expression on his face when I said grace? It was-what's the word? Gerald, what's the word?”

“The word for what?”

“You know. When someone feels God's grace on them.”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Happy?”

“No, not happy,” she said. “It begins with a b.”

“Balmy?” Sari suggested.

“Beatific!” Her mother captured the word with delight. “That's the word. Beatific. Charlie looked positively beatific.” She hitched her chair closer to Lucy. “They say people like Charlie are closer to God than the rest of us,” she said in a low, confiding voice. “And I believe it. He sees things we don't.” She paused, and Lucy made a polite little “Huh” kind of noise.

Sari's mother took that as encouragement. She took several sips of wine and then continued, gesturing with the glass. “When I see someone-a stranger-with a child who you can tell right away is special-not like the other kids-I go right on up to her, no matter where we are, even in the supermarket, and I say, ‘We're the lucky ones. We're blessed. God sends us these special children because He trusts us to take good care of them for Him.’” She put down her glass and touched Lucy's arm lightly with her damp fingertips. “I can't tell you how many women have hugged me after I’ve said that. Just burst into tears and hugged me. It's a wonderful thing to make a connection like that. I fly home after one of those encounters. I literally fly home.”

“How nice,” Lucy said. “Really. That's really nice. Do you-”

“We really are the lucky ones, you know,” Eloise said. “Those of us with special children. God chooses us because He knows we're exceptionally strong.”

“You're just all God's little teacher's pets, aren't you?” Sari said. “You get to clap erasers and raise the autistic kids. Hey, maybe if you're really good, he'll give you some boils on your ass.”

“More wine?” her father said and took the opportunity to refill his glass as well as hers. He peered at the bottle. “Better open another. This one's almost gone.” He got up and walked heavily out of the room.

“God has a plan for Charlie,” Sari's mother told Lucy, pinning her in place with that hand on her arm. “He has a plan for every child. People like that Ellen woman think that they're making a difference with their mumbo- jumbo, but the path any child takes is already determined by God. He decides what will be.”

“Que sera, sera,” Lucy said with a wild and desperate gaiety.

“What we do at the clinic works,” Sari said. “I could show you studies-”

Her mother finally acknowledged her, but only by making a phhhtt noise and waving her hand dismissively. “Studies. Oh, please. You can't tell from those. Take any child and look at him again a few years later. Who's to say what he would have been as opposed to what he is? Only the Supreme Being. Not us. Certainly not some scientist collecting data.” She spat out the last word as if it were repulsive to her.

“You've got it all backward,” Sari said. “Science is the one thing that does tell us anything. It shows us that when kids are worked with the right way, they improve.”

“No,” Eloise said. “You can fuss and bother and drive the children crazy with all your therapy jibber-jabber, but in the end, it's all up to Him.”

“I wish to hell he'd open up a clinic then,” Sari said. “We have a waiting list at ours. The least he could do is take up some of the slack.”

“More wine?” said her father, appearing in the doorway with a freshly opened bottle.

V

Kathleen's mind wandered on the drive over to her sisters’ house, and she found herself thinking not about the people and the meal she had just left, but about cooking with Sam Kaplan that morning. He had taken it all so