Risking It All Read online

  But she was going to try to move forward anyway and see if she could make it work. She felt nervous the first time they sat down to dinner together again as a family. She could tell Danny did too—he returned to the reticent, shy boy he’d been at the beginning, barely looking up from his plate and speaking only when he was spoken to. Jeff tried to engage him, she could see.

  “So, Danny, how do you like your new school?” he asked him.

  “It’s good,” Danny mumbled.

  “How is it different from Claremont?”

  “Danny shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She stiffened, expecting Jeff to show annoyance, but he didn’t.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to say, right? But I meant, is the work harder or easier?”

  Danny shrugged again. “Easier.”

  Marcia sliced into the silence that followed. “What about the other kids? Do you miss Raul a lot?”

  Danny stiffened. Were they trying to trick him? “Yeah,” he answered.

  “Maybe I should call his mother and try to arrange a time for you to get together. Maybe now that you’re not in the same school she’ll feel better about your seeing each other sometimes. Would you like that?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Maybe it would be better not to,” Jeff said. “I mean, it will just make separating harder. He needs to make new friends. Right, Danny?”

  Danny nodded uneasily. “I have a lot of homework tonight,” he said. “Could I go do it?”

  “Are you done eating? There’s a nice dessert tonight. Brownies and ice cream. Are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Marcia asked.

  “Nah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

  “Well, sure, then. Go ahead,” Marcia said.

  It wasn’t a perfect family dinner, but it was better than she’d seen before and better than she’d feared. It was clear that Jeff was trying.

  The next day Jeff was the one to get Griffin out of his crib in the morning. Marcia cooked a hot breakfast for everyone. Danny was late coming to the table and Marcia started to go to his room to hurry him up. “That’s okay. I’ll get him,” Jeff said. Marcia worried how that would go, but there didn’t seem to be a problem. They all sat down to breakfast. Marcia had made scrambled eggs, which she knew was Jeff’s preference. “I know you don’t like them, Danny,” she said, when she saw Danny’s face. “I’m making you some oatmeal.”

  “He should eat what the family eats,” Jeff said. “He doesn’t need a private chef.”

  “It’s okay, Jeff,” she snapped. “This is how we do it.” He didn’t answer. She served the oatmeal and Danny barely ate it, which Jeff noticed. Danny looked at the kitchen clock and grabbed his coat and backpack and rushed to the door, shouting goodbye as he left. When he was gone there was a moment’s silence. Griffin started to cry—he always cried when Danny left—and Marcia lifted him from his high chair and wiped his face. “That’s okay, Griff, he’ll be back,” she crooned. “Soon Berta will be here and you’ll go to the park.”

  Jeff poured himself another cup of coffee. “Listen, Marcia, I didn’t say that about breakfast to be a dick. If you want me to have a relationship with him, you’ve got to let me have a say too. I’d have said the same thing if Griffin was older and you were cooking separate meals for him.”

  They heard Berta at the door. “Where’s my boy?” she cooed as she came into the kitchen and took Griffin in her arms. He didn’t seem to mind. He was happy to see her, flashing a big smile, putting his arms out and leaning toward her. This always produced a mixed reaction in Marcia. She was happy he truly seemed to love Berta but she was also just a little bit jealous that he was so willing to leave her arms without a backward glance. Berta left, taking Griffin to his room to get dressed while engaging in a nonstop monologue about what she had planned for them to do that day.

  “You’re right,” Marcia said, pouring another cup of coffee and offering it to Jeff. He shook his head, so she kept it for herself. “I’m just not used to that kind of involvement from you. It’s a transition. I’m sorry.” She paused. “But I don’t mind making him a bowl of instant oatmeal if he hates scrambled eggs.”

  “Isn’t he old enough to make it himself if it’s different from what you are cooking for the rest of the family? Wouldn’t that be good for him?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “We can try that.”

  They finished their coffee and busied themselves getting showered and dressed. They left the building together and waved goodbye at the corner. She walked to the subway deep in thought. He’d been back home for less than twenty-four hours, she thought, and so far it wasn’t too bad. She should have felt encouraged but she felt sad. She was grateful they were both trying so hard but dejected that their relationship had devolved into good intentions and cautious attempts at civility when it used to seem so easy, so natural. As she stood on the train—it was crowded this morning and she couldn’t get a seat—she forced her attention back to the workday ahead of her and thought that there might be a book in this, the whole area of making do in a relationship, the subtle change from infatuation to love to adaptation and then what? To tolerance, she thought. To patience. To trying, through goodwill and effort, to fit the occasional round peg through the square hole, and when it didn’t work, not throwing away the whole puzzle. She even knew to whom she would suggest this topic—Brynn Godson, a lively thirty-year-old writer who’d had a big success five years earlier with a book on young couples and alternate lifestyles. Brynn had gotten married three years ago and might be the perfect person to investigate this subject. Marcia became more enthusiastic about this idea as she considered it and placed a call to the author after she settled into her office. Brynn liked the project immediately.

  “But you make it sound like it’s all downhill,” Brynn said. “Maybe at the end in successful marriages, the puzzle is a little malleable. The round peg squares off a little and the square holes get slightly rounded, and it fits, and when that friction ends, when they stop trying to fit that one peg into that one hole, there’s time to explore all the other things that might fit into that box. Maybe that’s what people mean when they say the love changes but it doesn’t die, it deepens.”

  “I knew you’d be the right person for this,” Marcia said, laughing. She loved this about Brynn—her tendency to run with a metaphor even if sometimes she crashed into the nearest wall. “That’s a great idea,” she said, “but we’ve probably taken the round-peg thing about as far as we can. Anyway, think about it, will you?”

  “No problem,” Brynn replied. “I’ve already begun.”

  28

  Jeff suggested they go to Woodstock for the weekend. Marcia wasn’t sure she was ready. Woodstock was special for them. They had bought the house there early in their marriage and had been close and carefree there. She remembered that they had revisited the idea of surrogacy at their dinner table when Grace suggested it. The tension that conversation had produced seemed so benign these days, especially since they had ultimately decided to follow Grace’s advice. The house and the town would bring back so many memories, and Marcia feared it would make her sad to return to the place with everything the same except them. But in the spirit of trying to make their arrangement work, she agreed.

  It was a beautiful March day. The sun was high and piercingly bright, and the air, although cold, was clear and dry. They drove up the long driveway to their house in silence. A light breeze stirred a few brown leaves that had piled up around the rocks and in the crevices of the stone pathway. It had snowed a few days before but most of the snow had melted, though there were a few brushstrokes of white on their front steps and on the branches of the trees most shaded from the sun. They unloaded the car, lifting out Griffin’s car seat first. Marcia opened the front door. Danny was right behind her. She put Griffin’s seat on the floor in the living room and asked Danny to go back to the car and see what he could carry in while she went from room to room turning up the thermostats. She glanced over her shoulder to see him skul
king slowly toward the car and wondered if there was something wrong. The house was cold and she moved Griffin away from the window and covered him with an extra blanket. Then she went to the woodpile on the back porch and carried in some logs. By the time Jeff and Danny had unloaded the car she had a fire dancing in the stone fireplace and had taken Griffin out of his chair. She was holding him in front of the fire, delighted at his fascination with the light, when she heard Danny and Jeff at the door. She could hear them arguing as they entered.

  “It’s not that heavy, Danny. It’s just a bag of groceries.”

  “But it’s got a lot of heavy things in it. Why do I have to carry the one with the milk in it? That’s the worst one.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can handle it. Haven’t you ever helped carry groceries before?”

  “No. In the city you don’t have to. I don’t know why we have to come here.”

  “Because it’s our house and we like it.”

  “I’m twelve. Why can’t I just stay home in New York?”

  “Because you’re twelve.”

  Danny stomped into the house without wiping his feet on the doormat and slammed the package down on the table.

  “Danny, there are eggs in that bag,” Jeff shouted. “I bet you broke every one.”

  Marcia handed Griffin to Jeff and walked over to the table, where she opened the egg container. Two of the eggs were broken. She frowned at Danny and shook her head. She looked quizzically at Jeff. He shrugged his shoulders. Neither knew why Danny was acting like this.

  She had invited Grace and Mike for dinner that night, and she called Grace to tell her they’d arrived and to confirm the time. She bustled around the house putting away groceries as Jeff played with Griffin. Danny hung around watching, shifting from foot to foot, a bored look on his face that Marcia found annoying. “Danny, why don’t you help me put these away?”

  He went through some of the motions, but slowly and rebelliously, making it clear this was a huge imposition. She’d never seen him like this before.

  “Danny, are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Are you angry at something?”

  “No.” He slammed down the orange juice container he was holding. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  She stopped unloading the groceries and stared at him. “Can I please just go out?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Go.”

  He slammed the door when he left. She searched her mind for something that could explain this behavior. He was screaming for attention, she thought, even negative attention was clearly better than nothing to him right now. Why? Was this a cry for help or just the real beginning of adolescence, and was this what they had in store for them from now on? Or was it simply that Jeff was back and he was happier and more comfortable with him gone? She continued putting away the groceries, deep in thought. She heard Griffin laughing and one of his toys squeaking repeatedly, and looked up to see that Jeff had put him into the fenced-off area in the living room surrounded by his toys. Glancing out the window, she spotted Jeff outside playing catch with Danny. She felt a rush of gratitude and hope. There was no doubt he was trying. Even now, with Danny worse than he’d been before, Jeff was making an effort to engage him.

  The rest of the day went more smoothly. Danny seemed less sulky by the time he came inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his hands stiff because he hadn’t worn a coat or gloves. The weather had been crazy—this felt more like February than March. He asked if he could watch TV and she said yes before Jeff could say no. “There’s a game on later,” Jeff said. “You interested?”

  Danny seemed surprised. “Yeah.”

  She hadn’t known him to watch basketball before, so she knew he must have agreed because he welcomed doing something with Jeff. Again she felt a surge of hope.

  Jeff walked up to her and impulsively put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. His hands were cold and she jumped. They laughed and locked eyes. “Thank you,” she said. He smiled.

  Grace and Mike arrived at six as planned. They were as obsessed with their kids as ever, complaining about Stephie as soon as they walked in. “She is so bright,” Grace said, “so she knows just what our weak points are. She says, ‘Mommy, why can’t I come?’ And I say, ‘Because this is a grown-up party,’ and she says, ‘It’s not fair. You always go away without me.’ And then I feel guilty, and I swear, she knows it and that’s why she said it. And the baby fusses when we go because he’s not used to the babysitter and Stephie is so mad at us that she doesn’t try to console him the way she sometimes does.” She smiled, embarrassed.

  “Grace, I’m so sorry I didn’t invite you all. Of course you could have brought them. Our kids are here.” Marcia remembered how jealous she was the first time she heard Grace’s litany of stories about her child. It seemed a world away. “Well, let me see that baby of yours,” Grace said. Jeff was feeding him while Marcia was putting the finishing touches on the goulash she was cooking. “Oh, he’s so adorable,” Grace said. “Hi, little guy. I can’t wait till you and Petey can have a play date.” Marcia called Danny out of the TV room to say hello. He didn’t answer and he didn’t come. “Maybe he didn’t hear me,” Marcia said.

  “He heard you,” Jeff said. “Danny, get out here right now or I’ll turn off that television and you won’t watch it again today.”

  Danny emerged.

  “You’ve heard me talk about Grace and Mike,” Marcia said. “They’d like to say hello to you.”

  “Hello,” Danny said, not looking up.

  “Hi, Danny, how are you doing?”

  “Fine,” he mumbled, still looking at the floor.

  “Do you like your new school?”

  “It’s okay. Can I go now?”

  Marcia nodded. “He’s not usually like that,” she said apologetically. “Something is bothering him but we don’t know what it is.”

  “He’s twelve. It’s probably started.”

  “What?”

  “You know what. Adolescence.”

  She sighed. “Maybe. But I don’t think that’s it.”

  It was easier to let him watch television than to insist he join them or read a book. It was easier, when he said he wasn’t hungry, to let him take a plate in front of the TV, and that’s what she decided to do. She was tired and she just didn’t feel like fighting with him. She had been half dreading and half looking forward to this weekend and in particular this dinner, and it was already off to a bad start. She had wanted to act as if everything were back to normal and by acting that way, she hoped to feel it, but the truth was that nothing in her life or relationship either with Danny or with Jeff felt normal. She had brushed off Jeff’s fears about Danny as a bad influence on Griffin, but now she wondered. She knew Danny loved Griffin and Griff adored his big brother, but it seemed that there was always some trouble, some tension, some misunderstanding whenever Danny was around. She looked across the table at Jeff and thought he looked handsome. He had one of those youthful faces that make some men look boyish years after their twenties. He said something—she hadn’t been listening and now the others were looking at her as if she was supposed to answer.

  “I’m sorry. My mind was drifting.” She turned to Mike. “What did you say?”

  “Jeff was asking when you had to start applying for nursery school for Griffin, and Grace wanted to know whether you were interested in Montessori or Waldorf or something else. She did so much research into this she’s the perfect person to advise you.”

  “Oh right. Yeah. Thanks. But Griff isn’t even a year old. I think we have time.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Grace said with her customary self-assurance. “This is New York City we’re talking about. The good schools get booked when the mothers are still pregnant.”

  Marcia nodded wearily. “Well, I guess I’ll have to start thinking about it but I haven’t yet.” She started to clear the table. Jeff and Grace both jumped up to help, but she stopped
them. “It’s just a few dishes. It’s easier if I do it myself.”

  She put the dishes in the sink and went into the TV room to see what Danny was up to. He was sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching Indiana Jones. “Where did you find that?” she asked. “Did we have the DVD?”

  “No. It’s on Netflix.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Everything’s always just okay, Danny. Is anything ever really good?”

  He looked up and shrugged. “No.”

  “What about really bad?”

  No answer.

  “Danny, did something really bad happen? You can tell me.”

  “No.”

  “You mean no, nothing bad happened, or no, you don’t feel like you can tell me?”

  “Both, I guess,” he said.

  She wasn’t getting anywhere, obviously, and she could see that wouldn’t change, at least not in this conversation, so she switched tracks.

  “I picked up cider doughnuts and ice cream for dessert. I’m about to serve it. Do you want some?”

  He shook his head.

  “Damn it, Danny. I’m really losing my patience. I know something’s wrong but I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what it is.”

  He didn’t respond. She turned angrily and walked to the door.

  “Okay, I give up. If you want some dessert, come in and I’ll make a plate for you. You can finish it in here.”