Perfect Little World(87)
“Say thank you to Izzy,” the teacher instructed the children, and Izzy felt so happy to hear the chant, in unison, of “Thank you, Izzy,” with the slight disruption of Cap, who said, “Thanks, Mom.”
Just as Izzy was about to leave, she heard Marnie come up to the teacher and inform her that she had forgotten to bring her observation journal from home. They were about to begin a new series of experiments, so Izzy volunteered to retrieve it. The kids waved good-bye and Izzy returned the tray to the kitchen before she jogged down the stairs and ran across the courtyard. The weather had turned overcast, gray, with impending rain, and Izzy watched a string of prayer flags flutter in the breeze from atop one of the play spaces.
Izzy came to the house of Ellen and Harris, and knocked on the door. Harris was at work, but Ellen was home; Izzy had seen her this morning from the front steps as Marnie joined the group of kids to head to school. After thirty seconds, Izzy knocked once more, but still no one came to the door. She looked through the window and saw the journal lying on the coffee table, Marnie’s book decorated with neon paint and so much glitter that it looked radioactive.
The family was fairly informal when it came to boundaries, having grown used to the preponderance of communal spaces, so that it sometimes bled into their own houses. Izzy never locked the door of her own house and Carmen or Link would often walk in unannounced to borrow ingredients or check to see if their child was playing with Cap.
Izzy tried the door, found it unlocked, and walked into the living room. Just as she picked up the journal, she heard the sounds of moaning, someone in the throes of nausea, the volume of it troubling, suggesting an emergency. Before she could keep herself from it, she called out, “Ellen?” She heard all sound immediately cease in the bedroom. And Izzy would later wonder why she remained in the living room, still holding the journal. She wondered what she thought was going to be on the other side of that bedroom wall. “Harris?” Izzy then said, now feeling like a kid detective on a case that was way beyond her abilities. The bedroom door opened, and Ellen appeared, wearing a sweatshirt and no pants, her face Mars red. Behind her, kneeling on the bed, completely naked, was Jeremy.
Ellen shrugged, and the motion caused the bottom of the sweatshirt to rise just enough so that Izzy could see the bush of Ellen’s pubic hair. “You know, don’t you?” she asked Izzy, and Izzy shook her head. She held up the journal, as if it could exorcise demons. “Marnie . . . ,” she said, and then fell silent.
Ellen shook her head with disgust. Izzy started to retreat to the door, but now Jeremy was pulling on his jeans and stood with Ellen in the living room. “Come here, Izzy,” Jeremy said. “Let’s talk about this.”
Izzy saw that Ellen was now crying, her tears so silent, almost without effort, that it unnerved Izzy to the point that she was paralyzed, could not retreat to the door or come to a love seat, where Jeremy was motioning for her to sit.
“No,” Izzy finally said, unable to say anything else, feeling a sick kind of certainty, suddenly wondering why something like this hadn’t happened sooner.
“This is exactly what it looks like,” Jeremy said. “I’m not denying anything. I just want you to listen to us. We need to talk to you.”
“You can’t tell Dr. Grind,” Ellen said, and then she immediately looked at Jeremy. “She’s going to tell him. I know it.”
“Sit down, Izzy,” Jeremy said. “Please? Izzy? Please fucking sit down and listen.”
Izzy finally moved to the love seat. “How long has this been happening?” she asked.
“Two years,” Jeremy said, and Ellen nodded.
“Who else knows?” Izzy asked, hoping, strangely, that everyone else already knew, that she was the last to find out.
“No one else,” said Jeremy. “Well, Harris and Callie know. We never kept it from them.”
“And they’re okay with it?” Izzy asked, incredulous, feeling like she was improvising a soap opera.
“Yes,” Ellen said. “We’re not hurting anyone, okay? You can stop staring at us with those goddamned Precious Moments eyes.”
“We’re all adults and we’re all making our own decisions,” said Jeremy.
“This is temporary, until the project ends. We want Eli and Marnie to have all the opportunities that they deserve, but we deserve our own happiness, don’t we?” Ellen said. “Then, when the project is over, Jeremy and I will take Marnie and Eli and we’ll start a new life and—”
“Ellen, please,” Jeremy interrupted. “Not now.”
“Why does it matter at this point?” Ellen said.
“Just please, Ellen,” Jeremy said, resting his face in his cupped hands, breathing deeply.
There was silence in the room, all three of them unable to continue. Izzy gripped the journal so hard that she thought it might burst into flames. She prayed for it to burst into flames, to provide a distraction so that she could run out of the house.
“You can’t tell anyone,” Ellen said. “Not Dr. Grind. Not Carmen. No one.”
“Okay,” Izzy said, saying only what she thought would get her out of this situation.
“Do not be the reason that we all get kicked out of the project, Izzy,” Jeremy said. “Do you want to be responsible for Eli and Marnie having to leave the family? Do you want to break this family apart?”