This Is How It Always Is(70)

“I was kidding.”

“The rest of us manage to balance work and family.” He wasn’t yelling; he was scolding, which was worse. “It’s not fair that we should suffer because you are incapable of doing so.”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “How are you suffering, Howie?”

“I have to recap Monday Morning Meeting before I’ve even gotten through it. And I have to take shit if you’re asked to do one thing outside seeing patients.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one taking shit, but I’ll be in charge of breakfast again.”

“Attagirl.”

“I’m not a girl.”

“Come on time.”

“By which you mean early.”

After her first patient of the morning, she found James in the break room.

“Why do we persist in pretending we work for Howie when we’re all equal partners and he’s basically a grass stain?”

“Grass stain?”

“Annoying, probably permanent, essentially harmless. Kind of ugly.”

“You’ve been doing too much laundry, Ro.”

“Penn’s in charge of laundry.”

“He’s equal, but he’s senior. He hired you.” James stirred more sugar into his coffee than it seemed like it could absorb and still remain in liquid form. “Myself, I was skeptical after your interview.”

“You were?”

“Five is a lot of children. I thought you were probably some kind of fanatic or in a cult or something.”

“James! You can’t make hiring decisions based on how many kids an applicant has.”

“The whole time you were talking I was humming, ‘There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.…’ Point is, Howie fought for you. You owe him your job.”

“Maybe, but he’s not my mother. He doesn’t get to scold me for being late. I’m an adult. And not his employee.”

“No, but it’s worth keeping him happy, or at least not pissing him off, especially when it’s easy.”

“Taking his condescending shit is easy? Taking on the jobs no one else wants because I was fifteen minutes late to a meeting I said I’d be fifteen minutes late to? That’s not easy.”

“Sure it is. Pick your battles. Don’t you do this all the time at home?” James and his husband no longer went to the opera. Instead they had one-year-old twins. “I feel like that should be the subtitle. Parenting: Pick Your Battles.”

“That’s why I shouldn’t have to do it here.”

“Think of it as a power grab. Pick your battles rather than having them thrust upon you. He’s antsy. You know he gets this way every few years, so he’s overdue. He wants to start an office blog. He wants to chart a fifteen-year plan. He wants to put together a humanitarian mission to Thailand.”

“I can’t go to Thailand. I have a job and a life.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, kid. Buy some doughnuts for the staff and come even earlier for Monday Meeting, and you won’t have to.”

The door opened. Howie poked his head in and heaved a huge sigh in Rosie’s direction though clearly he had been looking for her and clearly he had found her. “Rosie. We need to talk.”

“Sure,” she said lightly. “But I’ve got a patient in ten minutes.”

“It won’t take long,” said Howie, “but we have to—”

Rosie’s cell phone rang. The high school. “Mrs. Adams?”

“Dr. Walsh. Yes, this is she.”

“Roo’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“This is Franny Plumber up at school. I’m afraid Roo’s been suspended. You’ll have to come get him.”

Christ. “Kid emergency,” Rosie half-apologized to Howie. “I have to go pick up Roo, but I’ll be back this afternoon. Tell Yvonne to reschedule my appointments until after lunch.”

*

If it weren’t for the gash in his head, he’d have kept getting away with it. In fact, Roo and Derek McGuiness had been fighting during recess on and off for years. It felt more like an ancient feud than a tussle at this point. Ben knew this and left Roo to it. Ben saw where his strengths lay, and it wasn’t hand-to-hand combat. If Roo had asked for his help, he’d have provided it (strategically if not muscularly), but Roo did not ask, and Ben knew to respect that too. Rigel and Orion knew it but couldn’t do anything about it. For one thing, they were only fourteen. For another, ninth grade was on a different schedule. They had English every day while Roo was getting his ass kicked. Even Cayenne knew it, and maybe she even found it sexy, and that might even have played a part in why Roo was still doing it. But, well trained in the art of secret keeping, Roo had managed to keep it from his parents for a year and a half and counting.

Rosie and Penn were angry he was fighting. They were angry the school hadn’t noticed he was fighting until there was a gushing head wound. They were angry he’d implicated all his brothers in his cover-up. They were angry that when they’d asked about the various scratches and bruises and red marks, he’d made up stories about gym class or joining fencing club or wrestling with Ben (this last may not have been a lie).

Even though he’d gone to lengths to hide it, Roo was angry anyway that they hadn’t noticed he’d been getting his ass kicked. He was angry they hadn’t noticed that sometimes he was the one doing the ass kicking. But mostly, he was angry they didn’t care what he was fighting for.