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Lena St. Cir
To this day, I beliee ther has the sterious ability to see things before they happen. She has a ese saying for what she knows. wang chihan: If the lips are gohe teeth will bld. Whis, I suppose, ohing is always the resu of another.
But she does not predict whehquakes will e, or how the stock rket will do. She sees only bad things that affect our faly. And she knows what causes the But now she nts that she neer did anything to stop the
Oi when I was growing up in San Franc, she looked at the way our nt sat too steeply on the hill. She said the new baby in her wo would fall out dead, and it did.
When a pluing and bathroofitures store opened up across the street froour bank, ther said the bank would soon hae all its ney drained away. And oh ter, an officer of the bank was arrested for eezzlent.
And just after father died st year, she said she khis would happen. Because a philodendron pnt father had g;rk９９ｌｉｂ.;/rkien her had withered and died, despite the fact that she watered it faithfully. She said the pnt had daged its roots and no wateuld get to it. The autopsy report she ter receied showed father had had y-pert blockage of the arteries before he died of a heart attack at the age of seenty-four. My father was not ese like ther, but English-Irish Ari, who enjoyed his fie slices of ba and three eggs sunnyside up eery
I reer this ability of thers, because now she is isiting husband and in the house we just bought in Woodside. And I wonder what she will see.
Harold and I were lucky to find this pce, which is he suit of Highway 9, then a left-right-left down three forks of unrked dirt roads, unrked because the residents always tear down the signs to keep out salesn, deelopers, and city iors. We are only a forty-nute drie to thers apartnt in San Franc. This beca a sity-nute ordeal ing back froSan Franc, when ther was with us in the car. After we got to the two-ne winding road to the suit, she touched her haly to Harolds shoulder and softly said, quot;Ai, tire squealing.quot; And then a little ter, quot;Too ch tear and wear on car.quot;
Harold had sled and slowed down, but uld see his hands were c;u;/uhed wheel of the Jaguar, as he gnerously in his reariew rror at the line of iatient cars that was growing by the nute. And I was secretly gd to watch his disfort. He was always the one who tailgated old dies in their Buicks, honking his horn and reing the engine as if he would run theoer uhey pulled oer.
And at the sa ti, I hated self for being an-spirited, for thinking Harold desered this tornt. Yet uldnt help self. I was d at Harold and he was easperated with . That before we picked ther up, he had said, quot;You should pay for the eternators, because Mirugai is your cat and so theyre your fleas. Its only fair.quot;
None of our frienduld eer beliee we fight oer sothing as stupid as fleas, but they would also neer beliee that our proble are ch, ch deeper than that, so deep I dont een know where bottois.
And now that ther is here—she is staying for a week, or until the electris are done rewiring her building in San Franc—we hae to pretend nothing is the tter.
Meanwhile she asks oer and ain why we had to pay so ch for a renoated barn and a ldew-lined pool on four acres of nd, two of which arered with redwood trees and poison oak. Actually she doesnt really ask, she just says, quot;Aii, so ey, so ch,quot; as we show her different parts of the house and nd. As alel Harold to epin to ther in sile ter: quot;Well, you see, its the details thast so ch. Like this wood floor. Its hand-bleached. And the walls here, this rbleized effect, its hand-sponged. Its really worth it.quot;
And ther nods and agrees: quot;Blead spongst so ch.quot;
During our brief tour of the house, shes already found the fws. She says the snt of the floor kes her feel as if she is quot;running do;quot; She thinks the guest roowhere she will be staying—which is really a forr hayloft shaped by a sloped roof—has quot;two lopsides.quot; She sees spiders in high ers and een fleas juing up in the air—pah! pah! pah!—like little spatters of hot oil. My thers knows, underh all the fancy details thast so ch, this house is still a barn.
She see all this. And it annoys that all she sees are the bad parts. But then I look around ahing shes said is true. And this inbsp; she see what else is going oween Harold and . She knows whats going to happen to us. Because I reer sothing else she saw when I was eight years old.
My ther had looked in rice bowl and told I would rry a bad n.
quot;Aii, Lena,quot; she had said after that dinner so ny y９９lib.ears ago, quot;your future husband hae one pock rk for eery rice you not finish.quot;
She put bowl down. quot;I onoock-rk n. Mean n, bad n.quot;
And I thought of a an neighbor boy who had tiny pits in his cheeks, and it was true, those rks were the size of rice grains. This boy was about twele and his na was Arnold.
Arnold would shoot rubber bands at legs wheneer I walked past his building on way ho froschool, and oi he ran oer doll with his bicycle, crushing her legs below the knees. I didnt want this cruel boy to be future husband. So I picked up thald bowl of rid scraped the st few grains into uth, the ther, fident future husband would be not Arnold but soone whose face was as soth as the por in now bowl.
But ed. quot;Yesterday, you not finish rice either.quot; I thought of those unfihfuls of rice, and then the grains that lined bowl the day before, and the day before that. By the nute, eight-year-old heart grew re aerror-stri oer the growing possibility that future husband was fated to be this an boy Arnold. And thanks to  oor eating habits, his hideous face would eentually resele the craters of the on.
This would hae been a funny io reer fro childhood, but it is actually a ry I recall froti to ti with a ture of nausea and rerse. My loathing for Arnold had grown to such a point that I eentually found a way to ke hidie. I let ohi froanother. Ourse, all of iuld hae been just loosely ected ces. And whether thats true or not, I know the iion was there. Because when I want sothing to happen—or not happen—I begin to look at all eents and all things as releant, an opportunity to take or aoid.
I found the opportunity. The sa week ther told about the rice bowl and future husband, I saw a shog fit Sunday school. I reer the teacher had died the lights so that all wuld see were silhouettes of one aheeacher looked at us, a rooul of squir, well-fed ese-Ari children, and she said, quot;This filwill show you why you should gie tithings to God, to do Gods work.quot;
She said, quot;I want you to think about a nickels worth of dy ney, or howeer ch you eat each week—yood and Plentys, your N wafers, your jujubes—and pare that to what you are about to see. And I also want you to think about what your true blessings in life really are.quot;
And the the filprojector cttering away. The filshowed ssionaries in Afrid India. These good souls worked with people whose legs were swollen to the size of tree trunks, whose nu lis had bee as twisted as jungle ines. But the st terrible of the afflis were n and won with leprosy. Their faces werered with eery kind of sery uld igine: pits and pustules, cracks and bus, and fissures that I was sure erupted with the sa ehence as snails writhing in a bed of sa. If ther had been in the roo she would hae told these poor people were icti of future husbands and wies who had failed to eat ptefuls of food.
After seeing this fil I did a terrible thing. I saw what I had to do so I would not hae to rry Arnold. I began to leae re ri bowl. And theended  rodigal ways beyond ese food. I did not finish cread , brli, Rice Krispies, or peanut butter sandwiches. And once, when I bit into a dy bar and saw how luy it was, how full of secret dark spots and crea goo, I sacrificed that as well.
I sidered that probably nothing would happen to Arnold, that he ght not get leprosy, e to Afrid die. And this sohow bahe dark possibility that he ght.
He didnt die right away. In fact, it was so fie years ter, by which ti I had bee quite thin. I had stopped eating, not because of Arnold, whoI had long fotten, but to be fashionably anoreic like all the other thirteen-year-old girls who were dieting and finding other ways to suffer as teenagers. I was sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for ther to finish pag a sack lunch which I alrotly threw away as soon as I rouhe er. My father was eating with his fingers, dabbing the ends of his ba into the egg yolks with one hand, while holding the neer with the other.
quot;Oh , listen to this,quot; he said, still dabbing. And thats when he annouhat Arnold Reisn, a boy who lied in our old neighborhood in Oaknd, had died of plications froasles. He had just beeed to Cal State Hayward and nning to bee a podiatrist.
quot;Doctors were at first baffled by the disease, which they report is etrely rare and generally attacks childreween the ages of ten and twenty, nths to years after they hae tracted the asles irus, quot; read father. quot;The boy had had a ld case of the asles when he was twele, reported his ther. Proble this year were first noticed when the boy deeloped toordination proble aal lethargy whicreased until he fell into a a. The boy, age seenteen, neer regained sciousness.
quot;Didnt you know that boy?quot; asked father, and I stood there te.
quot;This is sha,quot; said ther, looking at . quot;This is terrible sha.quot;
And I thought shuld see through and that she knew I was the one who had caused Arnold to die. I was terrified.
Th藏书网at night, in roo I ged self. I had stolen a halfgallon of strawberry ice creafrothe freezer, and I forced spoonful after spoonful down throat. And ter, for seeral hours after that, I sat hunched on the fire escape nding outside bedro bato the ice creatainer. And I reer w why it was that eating sothing goould ke feel so terrible, while oting sothing terribluld ke feel so good.
The thought that uld hae caused Arnolds death is not so ridiculous. Perhaps he was destio be husband. Because I think to self, een today, how the world in all its chaos e up with so ny ces, so ny sirities a opposites? Why did Arnold single out for his rubber-band torture? How is it that he tracted asles the sa year I began sciously to hate hi And why did I think of Arnold in the first pce—when ther looked in rice bowl—and theo hate hiso ch? Isnt hate rely the resu of wounded loe?
And een when I finally disss all of this as ridiculous, I still feel that sohow, for the st part, we desere what we get. I did Arnold. I got Harold.
Harold and I work at the sa architectural fir Liotny Associates. Only Harold Liotny is a partner and I aan associate. We t eight years ago, before he started Liotny Associates. I was troject assistant, and he was thirty-four. We both worked in the restaurant design and deelopnt diision of Harned Kelley Dais.
We started seeing each other for w luo talk about the projects, and we would always split the tab right in half, een though I usually ordered only a sad because I hae this tendency to gai easily. Later, whearted etily for dinner, we still diided the bill.
And we just tihat way, eerything right down the ddle. If anything, I e. Sotis I insisted on paying for the whole thing: al, drinks, and tip. And it really didnt bother .
quot;Lena, youre really etraordinary,quot; Harold said after si nths of dinners, fie nths of post-prandial loeking, and one week of tid and silly loe fessions. We were lying in bed, between new purple sheets I had just bought for hi His old set of white sheets was stained in reealing pces, not ery rontic.
And he nuzzled ned whispered, quot;I dont think Ie eer t another won, whos so together…quot;—and I reer feeling a hiup of fear upon hearing the words quot;another won,quot; because uld igine dozens, hundreds of ad won eager to buy Harold breakfast, lunch, and dio feel the pleasure of his breath on their skin.
The ned said in a rush, quot;Nor anyone whos as soft and squishy and loable as you are.quot;
And with that, I swooned inside, caught off bance by this test reetion of loe, w how such a rerkable person as Haroluld think I was etraordinary.
Now that Iangry at Harold, its hard to reer what was so rerkable about hi And I know theyre there, the good qualities, because I wasnt that stupid to fall ih hi to rry hi All I reer is how awfully lucky I fe, and sequently how worried I was that all this undesered good fortune would soday slip away. When I fantasized about ing in with hi I alsed up deepest fears: that he would tell I slled bad, that I had terrible bathroohabits, that taste in sid teleision alling. I worried that Harold would soday get a new prescription for his gsses and hed put theon one look up and down, and say, quot;Why, gosh, you arent the girl I thought you were, are you?quot;
And I think that feeling of fear neer left , that I would be caught soday, eposed as a shaof a won. But retly, a friend of ne, Rose, whos in therapy now because her rriage has already fallen apart, told those kinds of thoughts are onp won like us.
quot;At first I thought it was because I was raised with all this ese hulity,quot; Rose said. quot;Or that ybe it was because when youre ese youre supposed to aept eerything, flow with the Tao and not ke waes. But therapist said, Why do you b your cuure, your ethnicity? And I reered reading an article about baby boors, how we epect the best and whe it we worry that ybe we should hae epected re, because its all dinishiurns after a certain age.quot;
And after talk with Rose, I fe better about self and I thought, Ourse, Harold and I are equals, in ny respects. Hes ly handso in the cssise, ahough clear-skinned aainly attractie in that wiry intellectual way. And I y not be a raiy, but a lot of won in aerobics css tell Iquot;eoticquot; in an unusual way, and theyre jealous that breasts dont sag, now that sll breasts are in. Plus, one of ts said I hae incredible itality and euberance.
So I think I desere soone like Harold, and I an in the good sense and not like bad kar. Were equals. Ialso srt. I hae on sense. And Iintuitie, highly so. I was the one who told Harold he was good enough to start his own fir
When we were still w at Harned Kelley Dais, I said, quot;Harold, this firknows just what a good deal it has with you. Youre the goose who ys the golden egg. If you started your own busioday, youd walk away with re than half of the restaurant ts.quot;
And he said, ughing, quot;Half? Boy, thats loe.quot;
And I shouted back, ughing with hi quot;More than half! Youre that good. Youre the best there is iaurant design and deelopnt. You know it and I know it, and so do a lot of restaurant deelopers.quot;
That was the night he decided to quot;go for it,quot; as he put it, which is a phrase I hae personally detested eer since a bank I used to work for adopted the slogan for its eloyee productiity test.
But still, I said to Harold, quot;Harold, I want to help you go for it, too. I an, yoing to need o start this business.quot;
He wouldnt hear of taking any ney fro, not as a faor, not as a loan, not as a, or een as the down paynt on a partnership. He said he alued our retionship too ch. He didnt want to i with ney. He epined, quot;I wouldnt want a handout ahan youd want one. As long as we keep the hing separate, well always be sure of our loe for each other.quot;
I rotest. I wao say, quot;No! Inot really this way about he way wee been doing it. Ireally into giing freely. I want…quot; But I didnt know where to begin. I wao ask hiwho, what won, had hurt hithis way, that de hiso scared about aepting loe in all its wonderful for. But then I heard hisaying what Id been waiting to hear for a long, long ti.
quot;Actually, yould help out if you ed in with . I an, that way uld use the fie hundred dolrs rent you paid to …quot;
quot;Thats a wonderful idea,quot; I said iediately, knowing how earrassed he was to hae to ask that way. I was so deliriously happy that it didnt tter that the rent on studio was really only four huhirty-fie. Besides, Harolds pce was icer, a two-bedrooft with a two-hundred-forty-degree iew of the bay. It was worth the etra ney, no tter whoI shared the pce with.
So within the year, Harold and I quit Harned Kelley Dais aarted Liotny Associates, and I went to work there as a projecordinator. And no, he did half the restaurant ts of Harned Kelley Dais. In fact, Harned Kelley Dais threateo sue if he walked away with ee oer the year. So I gae hipep talks in the eening when he was disced. I told hihow he should do re aantgarde thetic restaurant design, to differentiate hielf frothe other fir.
quot;Who needs another brass and oakwood bar and grill?quot; I said. quot;Who wants another pasta p sleek Italian derno? Hobsp; you go to with police cars lurg out of the walls? This town is chockablock with restaurants that are just es of the sa old thes. You find a niche. Do sothing differei. Get the Hong Kong iors who are willing to sink so bucks into Ari iy.quot;
He gae his ad sle, the ohat said, quot;I loe it when youre so naie.quot; And I adored his looking at like that.
So I staered out loe. quot;You…yould do he eating pces…a…a…Ho on the Range! All the hoked stuff, at the kit rah a ginghaapron and waitresses leanielling you to finish your soup.
quot;And ybe…ybe yould do a noel-aurant…foods frofi…sandwiches froLawrence Sanders rder steries, just desserts froNora Ephroburn. And sothing else with a gic the, or jokes and gags, or…quot;
Harold actually listeo . He took those ideas and he applied thein an educated, thodical way. He de it happen. But still, I reer, it was idea.
And today Liotny Associates is a growing firof twele full-ti people, which specializes iic restaurant design, what I still like to call quot;the eating.quot; Harold is the cept n, the chief architect, the desighe person who kes the final sales presentation to a . I work uhe interior designer, because, as Harold epins, it would not seefair to the other eloyees if he proted just because we are now rried—that was fie years ago, two years after he started Liotny Associates. Ahough I aery good at what I do, I hae neer been forlly trained in this area. When I was j in Asian-Ari studies, I took only one releanurse, ier set design, for llege produ of Mada Butterfly.
At Liotny Associates, I procure the the elents. For oaurant called The Fisherns Tale, one of  rized findings was a yellow arnished wood boat stenciled with the na quot;Oerbored,quot; and I was the one who thought the nus should dangle froniature fishing poles, and the napkins be printed with rulers that hae iransting into feet. For a Lawrence of Arabia deli called Tray Sheik, I was the one who thought the pce should hae a bazaar effect, and I found the replicas obras lying on fake Hollywood boulders.
I loe work when I dont think about it too ch. And when I do think about it, how ch I get paid, how hard I work, how fair Harold is to eerybody ecept , I get upset.
So really, were equals, ecept that Harold kes about seen tis re than what I ke. He knows this, too, because he signs nthly check, and then I deposit it into separate cheg at.
Lately, howeer, this business about being equals started to bother . Its been on nd, only I didnt really know it. I just fe a little uneasy about sothing. And then about a week ago, it all beca clear. I utting the breakfast dishes away and Harold was warng up the car so wuld go to work. And I saw the neer spread open o ter, Harolds gsses on top, his faoritffee g with the chipped handle off to the side. And for so reason, seeing all these little dostic signs of faliarity, our daily ritual, de swoon inside. But it was as if I were seeing Harold the first ti we de loe, this feeling of surrenderihing to hi with abandon, without g what I got iurn.
And when I got into the car, I still had the glow of that feeling and I touched his hand and said, quot;Harold, I loe you.quot; And he looked in the reariew rror, bag up the car, and said, quot;I loe you, too. Did you lock the door?quot; And just like that, I started to think, Its just not enough.
Harold jihe car keys and says, quot;Igoing down the hill to buy stuff for dinner. Steaks okay? Want anything special?quot;
quot;Were out of rice,quot; I say, discreetly nodding toward ther, whose back is turo . Shes looking out the kit window, at the trellis of bougainillea. And then Harold is out the door and I hear the deep rule of the car and then the sound of g grael as he dries away.
My ther and I are alone in the house. I start to water the pnts. She is standing oiptoes, peering at a list stu our refrigerator door.
The list says quot;Lenaquot; and quot;Haroldquot; and under each of our nas are things wee bought and how ch thest:
Lenu
chi, eg., bread, brli, shaoo, beer 19.63
Maria ( + tip) 65 groceries
(see shop list) 55.15
&unias, potting soil 14.11
Photo deeloping 13.83
Harold
Garage stuff 25.35
Bathroostuff 5.41
Car stuff 6.57
Light Fitures 87.26
Road grael 19.99
Gas 22.00
Car Sg Check 35
Moies Dinner 65
Ice Crea4.50
The way things are going this week, Harolds already spent oer a hundred dolrs re, so Ill owe hiaround fifty fro cheg at.
quot;What is this writing?quot; asks ther in ese.
quot;Oh, nothing really. Just things we share,quot; I say as casually as I .
And she looks at and frowns but doesnt say anything. She goes back to reading the list, this ti re carefully, ing her finger down each ite
And I feel earrassed, knowing what shes seeing. Irelieed that she doeshe other half of it, the discussions. Through tless talks, Harold and I reached an uanding about not including personal things like quot;scara,quot; and quot;shaing lotion,quot; quot;hair sprayquot; or quot;Bic shaers,quot; quot;taons,quot; or quot;athletes foot powder.quot;
Whe rried at city hall, he insisted on paying the fee. I got friend Robert to take photos. We held a party at our apartnt and eerybody brought chaagne. And when we bought the house, we agreed that I should pay only a pertage of the based on what I earn and what he earns, and that I should own an equialeage of unity property; this is written in our prenuptial agreent. Since Harold pays re, he had the deg ote on how the house should look. It is sleek, spare, and what he calls quot;fluid,quot; nothing to disrupt the line, aning none of cluttered look. As for acations, the one we choose together is fifty-fifty. The others Harold pays for, with the uanding that its a birthday or Christs present, or an anniersary gift.
And wee had philosophical argunts oer things that hae gray borders, like birth trol pills, or dinners at ho wheertain people who are really his ts or old friends frollege, or food gazihat I subscribe to but he also reads only because hes bored, not because he would hae chosen thefor hielf.
Aill argue about Mirugai, the ot our cat, or cat, but the cat that was his gift to for birthday st year.
quot;This, you do not share!quot; ebsp; ther in an astonished oice. And I astartled, thinking she had read thoughts about Mirugai. But then I see she is pointing to quot;ice creaquot; on Harolds list. My ther st reer the i on the fire escape nding, where she found , shiering and ehausted, sittio that tainer urgitated ice crea uld and the stuff after that. And then I astartled once again to realize that Harold has neer noticed that I do any of the ice creahe brings ho eery Friday eening.
quot;Why you do this?quot;
My ther has a wounded sound in her oice, as if I had put the list up to hurt her. I think how to epin this, recalling the words Harold and I hae used with each other in the past: quot;So we elinate false dependencies…be equals…loe without obligation…quot; But these are words shuld neer uand.
So instead I tell ther this: quot;I dont really know. Its sothiarted before we got rried. And for so reason we opped.quot;
When Harold returns frothe store, he starts the chal. I unload the groceries, rihe steaksok the rice, ahe table. My ther sits on a stool at the graer, drinking froa g offee Ie poured for her. Eery few nutes she wipes the bottoof the g with a tissue she keeps stuffed in her sweater sleee.
During dinner, Harold keeps the ersation going. He talks about the pns for the house: the skylights, epanding the deck, pnting flower beds of tulips and crocuses, clearing the poison oak, adding another wing, building a Japayle tile bathroo And then he clears the table and starts stag the ptes in the dishwasher.
quot;Whos ready for dessert?quot; he asks, reag into the freezer.
quot;Ifull,quot; I say.
quot;Lena ot eat ice creaquot; says ther.
quot;So it see. Shes always on a diet.quot;
quot;No, she neer eat it. She doesnt like.quot;
And now Harold sles and looks at  uzzled, epeg to transte what ther has said.
quot;Its true,quot; I say eenly. quot;Ie hated ice creaalst all life.quot;
Harold looks at , as if I, too, were speaking ese and huld not uand.
quot;I guess I assud you were just trying to lose ght…. Oh well.quot;
quot;She bee so thin now you ot see her,quot; says ther. quot;She like a ghost, disappear.quot;
quot;Thats right! Christ, thats great,quot; eci Harold, ughing, relieed in thinking ther is graciously trying to rescue hi
After dinner, I put towels on the bed in the guest roo My ther is sitting on the bed. The roohas Harolds nilist look to it: the twin bed with pin white sheets and white b, polished wood floors, a bleached oakwood chair, and nothing oed gray walls.
The only ration is an odd-looking piece right o the bed: aable de out of a sb of uneenly cut rble and thin crisscrosses of bck cquer wood for the legs. My ther puts her handbag oable and the drical bck ase on top starts to wobble. The freesias in the ase quier.
quot;Careful, its not too sturdy,quot; I say. The table is a poorly designed piece that Harold de in his student days. Ie always wondered why hes so proud of it. The lines are cluy. It doesnt bear any of the traits of quot;fluidityquot; that are so iortant to Harold these days.
quot;What use for?quot; asks ther, jiggling the table with her hand. quot;You put sothing else on top, eerything fall down. wang chihan.quot;
I leae ther in her rooand go back downstairs. Harold is opening the windows to let the night air in. He does this eery eening.
quot;Ild,quot; I say.
quot;Whats that?quot;
quot;uld you close the windows, please.quot;
He looks at , sighs and sles, pulls the windows shut, and then sits down cross-legged on the floor and flips open a gazine. Isitting on the sofa, seething, and I dont know why. Its not that Harold has done anything wrong. Harold is just Harold.
And before I een do it, I know Istarting a fight that is bigger than I know how to handle. But I do it anyway. I go to the refrigerator and I cross out quot;ice creaquot; on Harolds side of the list.
quot;Whats going on here?quot;
quot;I just dont think you should get credit for your ice creaanyre.quot;
He shrugs his shoulders, ased. quot;Suits .quot;
quot;Why do you hae to be so godda fair!quot; I shout.
Harold puts his gazine down, now wearing his openuthed easperated look. quot;What is this? Why dont you say whats really the tter?quot;
quot;I dont know…. I dont know. Eerything…the way we at for eerything. What we share. What we dont share. Iso tired of it, adding things up, subtrag, king it e out een. Isick of it.quot;
quot;You were the one who wahe cat.quot;
quot;What are you talking about?quot;
quot;All right. If you think Ibeing unfair about the eternators, well both pay for it.quot;
quot;Thats not the point!quot;
quot;Then tell , please, what is the point?quot;
I start to cry, which I know Harold hates. It always kes hiunfortable, angry. He thinks its niputie. But I t help it, because I realize now that I dont know what the point of this argunt is. AI asking Harold to support ? AI asking to pay less than half? Do I really think we should stop ating for eerything? Wouldio tally things up in our head? Wouldnt Harold wind up paying re? And then wouldnt I feel worse, less than equal? Or ybe we shouldnt hae gotten rried in the first pce. Maybe Harold is a bad n. Maybe Ie de hithis way.
None of it see right. Nothing kes sense. I adt to nothing and I aie despair.
quot;I just think we hae to ge things,quot; I say when I think I trol oice. Only the rest es out like whining. quot;We o think about what e is really based on…not this bance sheet, who ohat.quot;
quot;Shit,quot; Harold says. And then he sighs and leans back, as if he were thinking about this. Finally he says in what sounds like a hurt oice, quot;Well, I know e is based on a lot re than a bance sheet. A lot re. And if you dont then I think you should think about what else you want, before you ge things.quot;
And now I dont know what to think. What aI saying? Whats he saying? We sit in the roo not saying anything. The air feels ggy. I look out the window, and out in the distance is the alley beh us, a sprinkling of thousands of lights shiering in the suer fog. And then I hear the sound of gss shattering, upstairs, and a chair scrapes across a wood floor.
Harold starts to get up, but I say, quot;No, Ill go see.quot;
The door is open, but the roois dark, so I call out, quot;Ma?quot;
I see it right away: the rble end tabllpsed on top of its spindly bck legs. Off to the side is the bck ase, the soth der broken in half, the freesias strewn in a puddle of water.
And then I see ther sitting by the open window, her dark silhouette against the night sky. She turns around in her chair, but I t see her face.
quot;Fallen do;quot; she says sily. She doesnt apologize.
quot;It doesnt tter,quot; I say, and I start to pick up the broken gss shards. quot;I k would happen.quot;
quot;Then why you dont stop it?quot; asks ther.
And its such a sile question.
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