About Schmidt - Louis Begley [42]
Jon never saw it that way.
That’s the nicest news I have heard in a long time. If only it were true. But, true or not, you have put me into such a cheerful mood that I must leave now, before you say anything that might spoil it!
On the contrary, you must stay. We really should reach out to each other.
“Reaching out” was not among expressions or activities Schmidt liked. He associated it with affirmative action, of which he disapproved, and justifications offered for hiring lawyers who didn’t make the W & K grade. Therefore, he stood up to deliver what he thought might be his closing remarks.
Renata, he told her, you want to accomplish too much in one afternoon. Of course, I won’t be a witch or some other sort of sinister presence at my only daughter’s wedding or other family gatherings or at any other time! Have I acted today in a way that gives you any reason to think otherwise? I don’t think so. On the other hand, Charlotte and Jon can’t behave toward me like a pair of selfish brats. I am a lonely man, and I have suffered a dreadful loss—you can’t measure it because you didn’t know Mary. Those two have to treat me nicely—no more than that. They haven’t; I won’t go into details because they are petty. And they must make small, minimal allowances for the way I am. I know I am not all sweetness and light all the time, even though I really try to put up a-good front. That I am sometimes sarcastic can’t be news to either of them—or that my bark is worse than my bite.
Come, Schmidtie, sit down on the couch next to me. There is plenty of room.
How was he to disobey? The further rearrangement of her legs, which occurred as she turned toward the space he was to occupy, fascinated him, as did the grin that spread from ear to ear. When he sat down, she took his hand, not to shake it, but apparently because she meant to hold hands with him. Then, after a moment, she asked: What was your life with Mary really like?
He took his hand away and felt himself blush.
What kind of question is that, and why do you feel authorized to ask it? Has Charlotte been complaining about her home life?
Oh no. She has always conveyed the picture of an idyll—out of a stylish play. Two elegant and polite people, serious about their work, refusing nothing she asked for if it was “educational,” very affectionate to her and friendly but distant with other people, and liking to be alone or with her.
Then I really don’t understand your question. Charlotte seems to have given you an accurate if somewhat idealized account. We were a nice New York couple of our time.
It comes across though that you were rather stiff, maybe constrained, don’t you think?
No, I don’t. Busy, as you implied, and fond of our family life. We saw nothing wrong with the way we lived, and I don’t now. And now I’m really going. Thanks once again for an extraordinary Thanksgiving.
Before he could stand up she took his hand again. Please don’t be angry. I need to know you better. I need to know how you see your life. It’s because I want to help you make things easier for yourself. You will be surprised how much easier that will make it for the children. That’s all.
Am I to become a patient? I have never done this sort of thing, you know.
She laughed.
You couldn’t be my patient, one doesn’t do these things within the family. Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend therapy for you: you are the wrong age, and you seem pretty well accustomed to the way you are—except for the effects of your loss, which will recede. To be in therapy, one needs to want to change. You don’t, and why should you, if you can get over this rough patch?
Schmidt’s mouth had become completely dry, as it always did whenever he felt himself pressed beyond the point where he could still control his irritation.