The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing - Melissa Bank [32]
Now Laurel speaks. She is a feat of self-possession. "We decided together," she says. "It's the only thing to do."
We're all quiet again. Giancarlo leans forward and reaches his hand out to Barney. "Congratulations."
Isabelle says, "This is a soap opera."
Then, everyone turns to me, as though I'm going to deliver some kind of pronouncement. I get these voices in my head of what The Mother is supposed to say—maybe something about how it will all work out. My own mother would say something definite, final. I remember Ben and me telling my parents we were getting married. Their real objection was that he was Jewish, and a Communist, but my father bellowed, The husband's role is to provide. Now I look up at my own children.
"Barn," I say, "what about providing for children?"
He nods; he's got an answer ready. "I've been composing music for commercials."
Isabelle says, "Jingles," as though the frivolity of the word itself proves something.
Quietly, P. K. says, "Have you had any on TV?"
Barney nods, just barely. I think he's afraid she's going to ask him to hum one.
It is time for me to say, Who wants coffee? and when I do it's like dubbing.
Giancarlo nods, P. K. waves, Barney gives me a grateful look, but I shake my head and he knows to follow me into the kitchen.
I cannot bring myself to look at him. I hand him the kettle, he asks me which cups. I pour milk into a pitcher and say, "Do you have a date for the wedding?"
He says, "I think I should bring Laurel, don't you?"
I turn and face him.
For a long moment I see this man.
I see him and I think, I am the one who taught him to regard himself as a blessing.
"Jesus," he says, "I was just kidding." He backs away from me—almost into Isabelle.
She says, "May I have a word with you?"
They go out to the terrace, and before the door closes, we can all hear Isabelle say, "What the hell are you doing?"
Laurel comes in to help. She's industrious and quiet. Then she tells me how strange it was to meet Julie. She stops. "I didn't want to feel anything." She looks at me. She wants me to understand, and with my eyes I let her know that I do.
"I'm thirty-five," she says. "You try to plan your life, but that's not how it works." I can see how tired she is right now. "I love Barney," she says.
While we finish dessert, Isabelle's voice carries through the glass doors, but only an occasional word is clear— "... bullshit . . . responsibility . . . child ..."
They walk inside. It's been raining, and Isabelle's white shirt is wet through in spots; it sticks to her skin. "Come on," she says to Giancarlo.
He shakes hands with Barney, whose hair has a wet sheen to it. Isabelle kisses everyone all around, and embraces Laurel. I see Laurel's shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. When Isabelle gets back to Barney, she says, "I'll be talking to you, bud."
"Yup," he says.
She gives him a quick hug. "Walk me to the door?" she says to me.
As soon as we're out on the landing, she says, "Don't tell me to go easy on him, Nina." She looks right at me, into my eyes. "He comes flying in here like Supersperm. And we're all supposed to congratulate him." Her voice softens. "It's not good for him."
Giancarlo stands with his hands in his jacket pockets. "Thank you for dinner," he says. He's on the top step when he turns around. "I think," he says, "you are a good family."
Isabelle is two steps below him, and she reaches out and holds on to his knees. "That's a very sentimental thing to say, you know." She laughs, and he grabs her. He picks her up and tries to carry her down the stairs. Over his shoulder, she waves to me.
Barney and Laurel are in the kitchen doing the dishes, and P. K. is rubbing Laurel's shoulders. "That feels great," Laurel says.
"We should go to bed," I say.
Barney yawns. "We're almost finished."
P. K. says good night to them, and she and I go into my bedroom. She takes off the T-shirt