I'm Thinking of Ending Things(28)

“That’s nice. I’ve noticed he still likes to write. He spends a lot of time writing.”

“That’s how he makes sense of the world.”

I feel something as he says this, compassion for Jake, affection.

“It’s quiet in here,” I say, “at the back of the house. It would be good for writing.”

“Yes, and great for sleeping, too. But Jake, as you probably know, Jake was never a good sleeper. You guys are welcome to stay the night. We hoped you would. You don’t need to rush off. I told Jake. We want you to stay. We have plenty of food for the morning. Do you drink coffee?”

“Well, thanks, I should probably leave the decision up to Jake. I do love coffee. But Jake has to work in the morning.”

“Does he?” his father says, a puzzled look on his face. “Anyhow, it would be great if you stayed. Even just one night. And we want you to know, we’re very grateful that you’re here. For what you’re doing.”

I tuck some stray hairs behind my ear. What am I doing? I’m not sure I understand. “It’s nice to be here, and nice to meet you.”

“It’s good for Jake, all of this. You’ve been good for him. It’s been so long since . . . But, I just think this is good for him, finally. We’re hopeful.”

“He always talks about the farm.”

“He was excited for you to see it. We’ve been looking forward to having you here for so long. We were starting to think he’d never bring you home, after all this time.”

“Yeah,” is all I can think to say. “I know.” After all what time?

Jake’s dad checks behind him and then takes a step closer to me. He’s close enough that I could reach out and touch him. “She’s not crazy, you know. You should know that. I’m sorry about tonight.”

“What?”

“My wife, I mean. I know how it must seem. I know what you’re thinking. I’m sorry. You think she’s going mad or is mentally ill. She’s not. It’s just a hearing thing. She’s been under some stress.”

Again, I’m unsure how to respond. “I didn’t really think that,” I say. In truth, I’m not sure what I think.

“Her mind is still very sharp. I know she mentioned voices, but it’s not as dramatic as it sounds. They are small whispers and mumbles, you know. She’s having discussions with . . . them. With the whispers. Sometimes it’s just breathing. It’s innocuous.”

“That still must be hard,” I say.

“They’re considering cochlear implants, if her hearing worsens.”

“I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

“And all that smiling. I know it looks a little odd, but it’s just a reaction she has. In the past it would have upset me, but I’m used to it now. Poor thing. Her face starts to hurt from so much smiling. But you get used to these things.”

“I didn’t notice, or not so much.”

“You’ve been very good for him.” He turns toward the door. “You guys are a good match. Not that you need me to tell you. Certain things, like math and music, go together well, don’t they?”

I smile, nod. Smile again. I don’t know what else to do. “It’s been great getting to know Jake, and now meeting you and his mom.”

“We all like you. Especially Jakie. It makes sense. He needs you.”

I keep smiling. I can’t seem to stop.

I’M READY TO GO. I want to get out of here. I have my coat on. Jake’s already outside, warming up the car. I’m waiting for his mom. I have to say good-bye, but she’s gone back to the kitchen to put a plate of leftovers together for us. I don’t want it, but how can I say no? I’m standing here alone, waiting. I’m fiddling with the zipper on my coat. Up and down, up and down. I could have warmed up the car. He could have waited here.

She emerges from the kitchen. “I put a little of everything together,” she says, “some cake, too.” She hands me a single plate of food, covered in foil. “Try to keep it straight or you’ll have a mess on your hands.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks again for the lovely evening.”

“It was lovely, wasn’t it? And you’re sure you can’t stay overnight? We’d love for you to stay. We have room for you.”

She’s almost pleading. She’s close enough to me now that I can see more of the lines and wrinkles on her face. She looks older. Tired, drawn. It’s not the way I’d want to remember her.

“We wanted to stay, but I think Jake needs to get back.”

We stand for a moment, and then she leans in to give me a hug. We remain like this, with her squeezing me like she doesn’t want to let me go. I find myself doing the same thing back. For the first time tonight, I smell her perfume. Lilies. It’s a scent I recognize.

“Wait, I almost forgot,” she says. “Don’t go just yet.”

She releases me from her embrace, turns, and heads back to the kitchen again. Where’s Jake’s dad? I can smell the food on the plate. It’s unappetizing. I hope it won’t smell up the whole car for the entire drive home. Maybe we can put it in the trunk.

Jake’s mom returns. “I decided tonight that I want you to have this.”