Writers & Lovers(71)

He stops stirring. ‘Holy shit. I am a big admirer of your work,’ he says confessionally, as if it should mean more coming from him than from the regular admirer.

Oscar gives him his grateful humility dip of the head.

Caleb raises his glass. ‘To Casey’s armpit, which has brought us all together.’

Oscar is confused.

‘I thought I had a lump. It was nothing,’ I tell him.

I can feel Caleb looking at me.

‘Why did you keep this little liaison a secret?’ Adam asks, making circles with his finger between me and Oscar.

‘It wasn’t a secret. Caleb knew.’

‘Caleb doesn’t read.’

‘I read your letters,’ Caleb says. ‘He writes long, gorgeous letters.’

‘And you never write back.’

‘I call. I’m good with the phone.’ He has a little smile that Adam turns away from.

Adam gives the big pot a few more stirs then plates the risotto. We carry our servings to the table. I take the chair next to Oscar, and he points across the table to the seat next to Adam.

‘Pairs part,’ Oscar says, as if he’s a dowager from another century.

Caleb takes my place and I go around the table and sit next to Adam. Oscar and Caleb start talking. Adam leans over and tells me about some lowball offers on his property. He says I have nothing to worry about yet.

‘Case’—Caleb taps his fork on my plate—‘you haven’t told him our father was a Peeping Tom?’ Our father is a party trick for Caleb. He has a whole routine of anecdotes he trots out.

I shut it down with a look, and he starts grilling Oscar about Thunder Road. Where and when is it set, who is the protagonist, what perspective is it told from? He’s never asked me any of these questions about my novel. I didn’t even know he knew about protagonists or perspective. Adam asks Oscar where he was when it all came to him. As if a whole novel comes to you in one great bolt of lightning instead of years of sustained concentration.

‘I was driving home from a dentist appointment,’ Oscar says. ‘And I saw it all.’

Jesus.

‘Fabulous,’ Adam says. ‘After the dentist no less.’

Oscar shrugs. Go figure. Genius will find you no matter where you are. He tells them about the new one he’s working on and how he’ll never make the deadline on his contract, that it’s going to take much longer than he anticipated.

‘Well,’ I say. ‘I find it extraordinary that you think you have something to say.’

They look at me with some alarm. I didn’t mean it to come out with so much anger. I nudge Adam. ‘Remember? Saying that to me? In the driveway?’

He shakes his head. ‘Why would I ever say a thing like that?’

During dessert Oscar gets up to go to the bathroom. He sinks a bit with his first few steps across the room. The bum knee. I never noticed it before.

‘Will you come with us tomorrow?’ Caleb asks him when he comes back.

‘Where to?’

‘We’re going to spread my mother’s ashes,’ I say. It comes out slowly, like my mouth doesn’t want to make the words. ‘At a beach.’

Oscar shakes his head without looking at me. ‘Jasper has T-ball and John has a birthday party, so I can’t swing it.’ He holds up his wineglass. ‘Good Sancerre, Adam. Where’d you come by it?’

When we leave, Caleb gives Oscar a hug and Adam gives him his hand and says they should play some squash. Outside Oscar takes my arm and starts laughing. He’s in a good mood. He won them over. He will always win people over. It will always be the thing he has to do.

He kisses me in the patch of light from the living room windows. ‘I didn’t realize you were the Jasper of your family.’ Kiss. ‘The charming brat.’ Kiss. Kiss. ‘The littlest provocateur.’ All these small pecks interrupted by speech. They keep the flame low.

‘I don’t think we should do this anymore.’

‘Do what?’

‘Go out.’

He laughs and pulls me closer. ‘What are you talking about?’

I don’t normally have to break up with anyone. Usually they do it for me, or I leave the state or the country. I don’t have to spell it out very often.

‘Listen, Case.’ He’s never called me that until halfway through dinner tonight when he started copying Caleb. He steps us out of the window light, not wanting to be seen anymore. ‘I know you’re scared. It’s scary. But I love you and we are good together. I feel so good when I’m with you. God, I like myself when I’m with you.’

‘I’m not sure that’s being in love with me, Oscar. That’s being in love with you.’

‘Is there someone else?’ he says. I can tell he doesn’t think this is a possibility.

‘I think so.’

‘Is it him?’ He gestures toward the window.

‘Adam?’ Then I see that he’s joking.

‘Who is it?’

‘It’s not important who.’

‘It is important. Do I know him?’

‘No.’ But I’m a terrible liar. So I tell him.

‘That kid from my workshop? How old is he, fifteen?’

‘He’s my age.’