The New Yorker Stories - Ann Beattie [11]
“Hello, Elsa,” he says. She can’t possibly hear him above Silas’s barking. Michael leads the barking dog into the bedroom and closes the door. He walks back to the door. Elsa has come into the house and shut the door behind her.
“Hi, Elsa,” he says.
“Hi. I’ve come for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“May I come in? Is this your house? This can’t be your house. Where did you get all the furniture?”
“I’m staying here while some friends are out of town.”
“Did you break into somebody’s house?”
“I’m watching the place for my friends.”
“What’s the matter with you? You look horrible.”
“I’m not too clean. I forgot to take a shower.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean your face. What’s wrong with you?”
“How did you find me?”
“Carlos.”
“Carlos wouldn’t talk.”
“He did, Michael. But let’s argue at home. I’ve come to get you and make you come home and share the responsibility for Mary Anne.”
“I don’t want to come home.”
“I don’t care. If you don’t come home, we’ll move in here.”
“Silas will kill you.”
“I know the dog doesn’t like me, but he certainly won’t kill me.”
“I’m supposed to watch these people’s house.”
“You can come back and check on it.”
“I don’t want to come with you.”
“You look sick, Michael. Have you been sick?”
“I’m not leaving with you, Elsa.”
“O.K. We’ll come back.”
“What do you want me back for?”
“To help me take care of that child. She drives me crazy. Get the dog and come on.”
Michael lets Silas out of the bedroom. He picks up his bag of grass and his pipe and what’s left of the bag of pecans, and follows Elsa to the door.
“Pecans?” Elsa asks.
“My grandmother sent them to me.”
“Isn’t that nice. You don’t look well, Michael. Do you have a job?”
“No. I don’t have a job.”
“Carlos can get you a job, you know.”
“I’m not working in any factory.”
“I’m not asking you to work right away. I just want you in the house during the day with Mary Anne.”
“I don’t want to hang around with her.”
“Well, you can fake it. She’s your daughter.”
“I know. That doesn’t make any impression on me.”
“I realize that.”
“Maybe she isn’t mine,” Michael says.
“Do you want to drive, or shall I?” Elsa asks.
Elsa drives. She turns on the radio.
“If you don’t love me, why do you want me back?” Michael asks.
“Why do you keep talking about love? I explained to you that I couldn’t take care of that child alone anymore.”
“You want me back because you love me. Mary Anne isn’t that much trouble to you.”
“I don’t care what you think as long as you’re there.”
“I can just walk out again, you know.”
“You’ve only walked out twice in seven years.”
“The next time, I won’t get in touch with Carlos.”
“Carlos was trying to help.”
“Carlos is evil. He goes around putting curses on things.”
“Well, he’s your friend, not mine.”
“Then why did he talk?”
“I asked him where you were.”
“I was on the verge of picking up a barmaid,” Michael says.
“I don’t know how I could help loving you,” Elsa says.
“Where are we going, Daddy?”
“To water plants.”
“Where are the plants?”
“Not far from here.”
“Where’s Mommy?”
“Getting her hair cut. She told you that.”
“Why does she want her hair cut?”
“I can’t figure her out. I don’t understand your mother.”
Elsa has gone with a friend to get her hair done. Michael has the car. He is tired of being cooped up watching daytime television with Mary Anne, so he’s going to Prudence and Richard’s even though he just watered the plants yesterday. Silas is with them, in the back seat. Michael looks at him lovingly in the rearview mirror.
“Where are we going?”
“We just started the ride. Try to enjoy it.”
Mary Anne must have heard Elsa tell him not to take the car; she doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself.
“What time is it?” Mary Anne asks.
“Three o’clock.”
“That’s what time school lets out.”
“What about it?” Michael asks.
He shouldn’t have snapped at her. She was just talking to talk. Since all talk is just a lot of garbage anyway, he shouldn’t have discouraged her. He reaches over and