House Rules Read online

  I keep my eyes on the road. --Because it's better than being the kid who killed Jess Ogilvy,|| I reply, and after that, we don't talk at all.

  It figures; Henry's showed up on a day when the food is not noticeably Aspergian. Emma's made steak and baked potatoes and gravy and gluten-free brownies. If Henry notices the lack of a green vegetable--or anything on the plate that isn't brown, for that matter--he doesn't mention it.

  --So, Henry,|| I say. --You do programming?||

  He nods. --Right now I'm parsing XML for a point-and-click web app for the iPhone that'll spice up four hundred contemporary American ethnic dishes with Chinese herbs and sauces.|| He launches into a fifteen-minute discussion of esoteric computer programming that none of us can follow.

  --Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,|| I say.

  --Actually, I work for Adobe,|| Henry says.

  Theo and I are the only ones who find that funny. I wonder if Henry's ever been diagnosed. --And you're remarried, right?|| I look at Emma when I say this.

  --Yes. I've got two girls,|| he says, and then hurries to add, --in addition to the two boys, of course.||

  --Of course,|| I answer, and I break a brownie in half. --So when are you leaving?||

  --Oliver!|| Emma says.

  Henry laughs. --Well, I guess that depends on how long the trial goes on.|| He leans back in his chair. --Emma, that was a great dinner.||

  Just wait till Blue Friday, I muse.

  --I'd better go find myself a hotel, since I've been up for about thirty-six straight hours and I'm bound to crash and burn soon,|| Henry says.

  --You'll stay here,|| Emma announces, and both Henry and I look at her, surprised.

  --Well, it's silly to have you stay a half hour away when we're all going to the same place tomorrow morning, isn't it? Theo, your father can sleep in your room and you can have the couch.||

  --What?|| Theo yelps. --Why do I have to give up my room? What about Jacob?||

  --Let me put it to you this way,|| Emma answers. --Do you want to sleep on the couch or do you want to help me when Jacob has a meltdown?||

  He shoves away from the table, angry. --Where are the extra freaking pillows?||

  --I don't want to put anyone out--|| Henry says.

  --Emma,|| I interrupt, --can I have a few minutes?||

  --Oh, right. You wanted to go over testimony?|| She turns to Jacob. --Honey, can you clear the table and load the dishwasher?||

  He stands up and starts clearing as I drag Emma upstairs. --We need to go somewhere quiet,|| I say, and I lead her into her own bedroom.

  I've never been in here. It's peaceful--all cool greens and sea blues. There's a Zen garden on the dresser with a rake and three black stones. In the sand, someone has written H-E-L-P.

  --The only part I'm still nervous about is the cross-exam,|| Emma says, all she can manage to get out before I grab her and kiss her. It's not gentle, either. It's the physical equivalent of pouring into her all the feelings I can't put into words.

  When she breaks away from me, her mouth is rosy and swollen, and that makes me take a step toward her again, but she puts her hand on my chest to hold me off. --Oh my God,|| she says, with a slow smile. --You're jealous.||

  --Well, what the hell was that all about? It's silly to have you stay a half hour away

  ...'||

  --It is. He's the boys' father, not some stranger who just came in off the street.||

  --So he's going to be sleeping right on the other side of this wall?||

  --Sleeping would be the operative word in that sentence,|| Emma says. --He's here for Jacob. Believe me, there's no ulterior motive for Henry.||

  --But you used to love him.||

  Her eyebrows shoot up. --Do you think I've been sitting here for fifteen years pining for him? Waiting for the moment he would walk through that door again so I could hide him in a bedroom upstairs and seduce him?||

  --No,|| I tell her. --But I wouldn't put it past him. ||

  She stares at me for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. --You haven't seen his perfect little wife and his perfect little girls. Believe me, Oliver, I'm not the great love of his life, the one he'll never forget.||

  --You are to me,|| I say.

  The smile fades from her face, and then she rises up on her toes and kisses me back.

  --Don't you need this?||

  At the sound of Jacob's voice we jump apart, putting a few feet of space between us. He stands in the doorway, one hand still on the knob and the other one holding my legal briefcase.

  --Were you just ...|| He stumbles over his words. --Are you two ...|| Without saying anything else, he throws my briefcase hard at me, so forcefully that I grunt when I catch it.

  He runs down the hallway into his room and slams the door.

  --What did he see?|| Emma asks frantically. --When did he walk in?||

  Suddenly Henry is standing in the doorway, looking quizzically down the hall where Jacob's gone and then at Emma. --Everything all right up here?||

  Emma faces me. --I think maybe you ought to go home,|| she says.

  Emma

  When I walk into Jacob's room, he is hunched over his desk, humming Marley and writing furiously across his green blotter:

  1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233

  I take the pencil out of his hand, and he turns in his swivel chair. --Do I make you horny, baby?|| he says, bitter.

  --No movie quotes,|| I tell Jacob. --Especially not Austin Powers. I know you're upset.||

  --Let me think about that. My mother is supposed to be practicing her testimony with my lawyer and instead she has her tongue halfway down his throat? Yeah, that might make me a little upset.||

  I tamp down the flash of anger that rises inside me. --First of all, I'm completely ready to testify. And second of all, I didn't expect to kiss him. It just happened.||

  --Things like that don't just happen, || Jacob argues. --You want them to happen or you don't.||

  --Well, all right then, I suppose after fifteen years of being alone I don't mind being attractive to someone.||

  --Not someone, || he says. --My lawyer. ||

  --He's completely focused on your trial, Jacob.||

  --I don't care about him. I mean, if he isn't doing his job I can just fire him. But you, ||

  he yells. --How could you do this to me right now? You're my mother!||

  I stand up, toe to toe with him. --One who's given up her whole life to take care of you,|| I say. --One who loves you so much she would trade places with you in a heartbeat.

  But that doesn't mean I don't deserve to be happy, too.||

  --Well, I hope you're really happy when I lose this trial because you were too busy being a slut.||

  And just like that, I slap him.

  I don't know which one of us is more surprised. I have never struck Jacob in my life. He holds his palm to his cheek as the red print of my hand rises on his skin. --I'm sorry.

  Oh, God, Jacob, I'm sorry,|| I say, the words somersaulting over each other. I pull his hand down so that I can see the damage I've done. --I'll get you some ice,|| I say, but he is staring at me as if he's never seen me before.

  So instead of leaving, I sit him down on the bed and I pull him against me the way I used to when he was little and the world became too much for him to bear. I rock, so that he doesn't have to.

  Slowly, he relaxes against me. --Jacob,|| I tell him. --I didn't mean to hurt you.|| It is only after he nods that I realize I've repeated the very same words Jacob said earlier to me about Jess Ogilvy.

  In all the years that Jacob has had tantrums and meltdowns and panic attacks, I have restrained him; sat on him; held him like a vise--but I have never hit him. I know the unwritten strictures: Good parents don't spank. Reward works better than punishment. Yet it only took a single moment of frustration, of realizing that I couldn't simultaneously be whom he needed me to be and whom I wanted to be--for me to snap.

  Is that what happened to Jacob, t