Other People's Houses(81)
“No, it wouldn’t. It won’t ever be the same.”
For a moment his son looked at him blankly. Then he pulled on his shoes and stood, pushing past his father and closing his bedroom door behind him, leaving Charlie standing there alone.
* * *
? ? ?
Lucas wasn’t awake yet when Bill Skyped Julie. He told her about the day before, and she surprised him by laughing out loud. He hadn’t heard it in a while, and it was worth some bruised knuckles.
“You punched him? Really?” She was in bed, of course, the tablet propped up on her arm, and her face was so close it was almost easy to pretend she was in the same bed as Bill. She smiled, her warmth undimmed by weeks of chemotherapy, even as it robbed her of her eyelashes, pubic hair, and immune system. “How very macho and unexpected of you.”
He grinned. “It was unexpected even to me. I didn’t know I was going to do it until I did it, if you know what I mean. I just got pissed off with his fucking whining.”
“Oh, come on. His heart is broken.”
“No,” Bill said firmly. “His ego is broken, and he’s sad as shit that his wife let him down, but he’ll recover.”
“Don’t be a dick, Bill. What about his kids? I’d be fucking devastated if you did that to me. To Lucas.”
“How do you know I’m not doing it right now? I could be sleeping with a wide variety of lovely young women while you’re out of the picture.”
She laughed. “I assume you are, because I know how much free time you have. It’s easy to take care of a small kid and work full time, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a walk in the park.”
She stopped laughing. “See, this is why . . .”
He interrupted her. “Don’t even go there, Jules. I wanted you to stay here for treatment, and I still think you were wrong. I’m your husband. I want to take care of you.”
She was firm. “I need you to take care of Lucas, and I need to take care of myself. This way is easier.”
He sighed. “For you.”
“And for you. And most of all for him.”
Then they just looked at each other until Lucas appeared sleepily behind Bill, his hair sticking up at all angles.
* * *
? ? ?
Iris was talking on the phone to her brother Archie.
“Mom said you guys are fighting.” Iris could hear Archie’s kids yelling in the background, thousands of miles away. Her brother lived in Ireland, married to a gorgeous woman somewhat like their father had been, charming and dreamy and unambitious and exhausting. He loved her, loved their four kids, loved the green grass of Ireland, and hated the rain. Of all her brothers he was the one she was closest with.
“Did she?” Iris slowly pulled her coffee cup across the table toward herself. “What did she actually say?”
“She said you want another baby and Sara won’t let you have one.”
Iris made a face. “That’s not true.”
“Which part?”
“The not letting me part. Sara is open to having another baby, she just got offered a movie and we’re trying to work out the details.” Her brother waited, hearing the unspoken in her voice. “And yes, I want one and she wants one less.”
“Didn’t you discuss this years ago, when you had Wyatt? Presumably you did.”
“Sure, but like you do when nothing is real or binding. We said we were going to have a dozen kids. We didn’t mean it.”
“But you’d like another.”
“Yes. But not if it costs me my marriage.”
She waited while he settled a dispute over a ball, sipping her coffee and watching birds peck about on her lawn. She wondered if birds thought anything of the people they saw milling about below them. Probably just wondered what was keeping them on the ground, lazy bastards.
“I’m back. Kieran felt strongly that the one who scored the goal should be the one who got to throw it back into play, but Jenny disagreed.”
“She’s in goal?”
“Exactly. She pointed out she didn’t get to really kick the ball at all . . .”
“She has a sound point.”
“Yeah, but she illustrated it by kicking her brother in the ankle, which undermined her position.”
Iris smiled. “Maybe you could just send me one of yours.”
“I’d be thrilled.” He had a drink, too; she could hear him sipping. “So, what’s going on now?”
“Now we’re stepping around each other carefully, both trying not to be the one who starts it up again.”
Archie made a surprised noise. “That isn’t like you two. Normally you guys can’t stop talking.”
Iris sighed. “I know. It’s weird. I should have just mentioned it like a year ago when I first realized I wanted another kid, but I got nervous for no reason that she was going to flip out, and then I waited a little longer, and a little longer, and then it turned into a Big Thing in my head, even though it wasn’t. And then one of the neighbors had an affair and her marriage blew up and suddenly that seemed like a far worse outcome than just having one kid.”
“You’re losing it. Sara’s always been very laid back, and you pretty much always get your way, right? And she’s not the cheating sort and neither are you, or at least, neither of you used to be.”