Where'd You Go, Bernadette(42)
There was a moment of quiet, then me and Kennedy burst into giggles. “I’m, like, happy birthday to me,” Kennedy said, which triggered another fit of laughter.
“The Griffins’ house caved in,” Dad said to Mom. “They’re living at a hotel. Is this something we’re going to have to pay for?”
“Mudslides are considered an act of God, so the Griffins’ insurance covers it.”
It was like Dad was a crazy person who had come into the Space Needle waving a loaded gun, and then he turned it on me. “Why didn’t you tell me, Bee?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly.
“Goody, goody gumdrops!” Kennedy said. “Here comes my birthday card!” She grabbed my arm really hard and squeezed it.
“Could you please take some Ritalin and shut up?” I said.
“Bee!” Dad snapped. “What did you just say? You don’t talk to people like that.”
“It’s OK,” Mom told Dad. “It’s how they talk to each other.”
“No, it’s not!” He turned to Kennedy. “Kennedy, I need to apologize for my daughter.”
“For what?” she asked. “Here comes my card!”
“Dad,” I said. “Why do you even care? You don’t even like Kennedy.”
“He doesn’t?” Kennedy said.
“Of course I like you, Kennedy. Bee, how could say such a thing? What’s going on with this family? I just came here to have a conversation.”
“You came here to yell at Mom,” I said. “Audrey Griffin yelled at her already. You weren’t even there. It was horrible.”
“Get it, get it!” Kennedy climbed over me and grabbed her birthday card.
“It’s not about yelling at Mom—” Dad became flustered. “This is a conversation between me and your mother. It was my mistake to interrupt Kennedy’s birthday dinner. I didn’t know when I’d have the time otherwise.”
“Because you’re always working,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?” Dad demanded.
“Nothing.”
“I’m working for you, and for Mom, and because the work I’m doing has the potential to help millions of people. I’m working especially long hours now so I can take you to Antarctica.”
“Oh, no!” Kennedy shrieked. “I hate this thing.” She was about to rip up her card, but I grabbed it out of her hand. It was full of patches of different writing. There were a few “Happy Birthday”s. But mostly the card was covered with things like “Jesus is our savior. Remember our Lord Jesus died for our sins.” Plus passages from the Bible. I started laughing. And then Kennedy started crying, which she does sometimes. Really, the thing to do is just let it pass.
Mom snatched the card. “Don’t worry, Kennedy,” she said. “I’m going to go hunt down those Jesus freaks.”
“No, you are not,” Dad said to Mom.
“Do it,” Kennedy said, suddenly perky. “I want to watch.”
“Yeah, Mom, I want to watch, too!”
“I’m leaving,” Dad said. “Nobody cares, nobody listens, nobody wants me here. Happy birthday, Kennedy. Good-bye, Bee. Bernadette, go ahead, embarrass yourself, attack people who have actually found some meaning in their lives. We’ll continue this when you get home.”
When we drove up to the house, the light in their bedroom was on. Mom headed straight out to the Petit Trianon. I went inside. The floorboards above me creaked. It was Dad, getting out of bed, walking to the top of the stairs.
“Girls,” he called down. “Is that you?”
I held my breath. A whole minute passed. Dad walked back to the bedroom, then to the bathroom. The toilet flushed. I grabbed Ice Cream by her flabby neck and we slept with Mom out in the Petit Trianon.
And Mom didn’t hunt down the Jesus freaks at the restaurant. But she did write, “IT’S A CHILD’S BIRTHDAY. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?” and set it on the window, and as we left, it started to go around.
*
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16
From: Gwen Goodyear
To: Audrey Griffin
Good morning, Audrey. I checked with Kate Webb, and she does remember Bernadette and Elgin Branch requesting to be opted out of all Galer Street emails back when Bee first enrolled. I double-checked myself and indeed they are not on any of the lists we currently employ.
On another topic, I’m glad to see you’re settled and that your Internet connection is working. Per my last three unanswered emails, Mr. Levy feels it’s imperative that we sit down and have a talk about Kyle. I can work around your schedule.
Kindly,
Gwen
*
That morning in homeroom, we were doing vocabulary lightning round, where Mr. Levy throws out a word and points to someone and they have to use that word in a sentence. Mr. Levy said, “Sheathe,” and pointed at Kyle. And Kyle said, “Sheathe my dick.” We have never laughed so hard. That is so why Mr. Levy wanted to have a conference with Audrey Griffin. Because even though it was totally funny, I can also see why it’s kind of bad.
*
From: Soo-Lin Lee-Segal