Perfect Little World(69)
“How long does this take?” Izzy asked.
“Days. Weeks. Forever,” David replied. It was as if he had forgotten she was still here, his attention entirely on the vase. She watched him sort through the pieces until he found another one that fit. “I have to be high to do this,” he said. “No other way to do it.”
Perhaps it was unavoidable, the way that she saw Hal in David. She imagined that watching David provided some strange window into Hal’s life before Izzy had ever known him, when he was still young and in thrall to his talent and convinced of his future fame. The intensity of David’s focus, the way Izzy felt as if she had disappeared from his mind, reminded her of Hal, those moments when he was right next to her but so, so far away. And then it was simply too much, the pot, the ghost of Hal, David. Were they dating now? What was happening? She took a deep breath, as if it would expel the haziness from her brain. It did nothing.
She looked at her phone and realized how late it was, that she was supposed to be back at the complex, helping with dinner. “Oh shit,” she said. “I have to go.”
“Bye,” he said, not looking up. Izzy fumbled for her keys and began to hurry out of the studio.
“There’s a party this weekend,” he said, still not looking at her. “Let’s go to it.”
“Maybe,” Izzy said, not really thinking, just wanting to get in her car and go home.
“Definitely,” he said, and then Izzy left.
Back at the complex, Izzy ran into the kitchen, her gait entirely foreign to her, the pot still impeding every single action, to find Chef Nicole and Carmen working together. “I hate tardiness,” Chef Nicole announced. “You should know that by now.”
“I know, Chef,” Izzy replied. “I got caught up at school. I’m sorry.”
Chef Nicole pointed to Carmen. “Lucky for you Carmen’s so good at this. You might be in danger of being replaced.” Izzy felt her stomach drop, and Chef Nicole finally noticed her alarm and smiled. “I’m just kidding, Izzy. You’re fine.”
Izzy stood there, unsure of what to do, how to return to normalcy. Carmen put down a bowl and walked over to Izzy.
“David?” she asked, smiling. Izzy had shown David’s pictures on Facebook to Carmen, who nodded with each picture. “Oh, yes,” she said. “That kind of beauty is infuriating.”
Izzy nodded. “I got caught up with him. We made out.”
Carmen frowned. “Are you high, Izzy?” she whispered.
Izzy nodded, unable to lie.
“You kind of reek of it,” Carmen said. “Go get a shower. Take a break. I’ve got the kitchen stuff handled.”
“I’m sorry,” Izzy said, blushing.
“Go on,” Carmen replied, smiling again. “You’re bad.”
“No,” Izzy said, shaking her head, but Carmen had already returned to the prep work for dinner. “I’m good,” she said to no one.
A few days later, Izzy held Gilberto and Jackie in her lap, the two children squirming to get comfortable, talking about the meal they had just eaten, which Izzy had prepared, things returning to normal after her dalliance with David, when Izzy opened to the first page of Go, Dog, Go. Once she began reading, the children instantly quieted, listening to Izzy describe the various dogs in various circumstances. Gilberto placed his finger on the picture of a blue tree and then traced a line to the word tree on the page. Izzy smiled and nodded. Jackie pointed to the word yellow and sounded it out slowly, not unsure but careful. “Good job, sweeties, but let me read the story one time and then we’ll go back and you two can read it,” she said, turning to the next page, as the pages would fill with more and more unique dogs. After a few more pages, she turned to look at Paul, who was holding his own daughter, Lulu, and reading Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile to her. Her own son, Cap, was supposed to be reading the book with Lulu, but he had apparently lost interest and was about to destroy a tower of blocks that he had just built. As she lingered over the image, feeling the slightest irritation that Paul was not giving his attention to Cap, Jackie patted her knee and pointed to the next page, saying, “Party!” over and over, which got Gilberto worked up as well. “Yes,” Izzy said, finally returning to the two of them, “a big dog party.”
Of course, it was very rare for children this young to be reading words off the page. Still, Izzy wished that Cap was one of the five children who could already read. While he loved to listen as someone read a book, and he also understood, as Jill Patterson kept assuring her, that the printed words on the page were creating the story that he was hearing, he didn’t seem interested in translating those symbols into words. He knew the alphabet, but preferred to keep the letters separate, single letters that he could spit out one by one and then forget. Benjamin, whose own daughter, Ally, could also not yet read, once confided to Izzy and a few other parents, “I see these kids doing these incredible things and I worry that I’m doing something wrong. And then, fuck, I realize that Ally is not our kid, or not just our kid. She’s everybody’s. It’s not anything that I did. It’s all of us. And then I don’t know if that makes me happy or sad.”
Dr. Grind reiterated over and over, “The goal of the Infinite Family is not to create tiny superheroes, an army of baby geniuses. Of course, we’re doing everything we can to help these children develop and feel confident in their abilities. But that ultimately doesn’t matter as much as if they’re happy. We’re providing them with love and support. If they start walking at seven months instead of twelve months, it doesn’t matter in the least bit to us. We just want them to feel safe and secure and happy. Everything else will follow.” Izzy could not help but notice, especially now that she spent most of her evenings carving out letters for a story that spoke in the first person plural, that Dr. Grind said, we instead of I.