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lena st. clair
to this day, i believether 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. which ans, i suppose, ohing is always the result 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 lants that she never 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 bathroofixtures store opened up across the street froour bank,ther said the bank would soon have all its ney drained away. and one nth later, an officer of the bank was arrested for eezzlent.
and just afterfather died last year, she said she khis would happen. because a philodendron plantfather had g&a;a;lt;rk&a;a;gt;９９lib.&a;a;lt;/rk&a;a;gt;iven her had withered and died, despite the fact that she watered it faithfully. she said the plant had daged its roots and no wateuld get to it. the autopsy report she later received showedfather had had y-pert blockage of the arteries before he died of a heart attack at the age of seventy-four. my father was not ese likether, but english-irish ari, who enjoyed his five slices of ba and three eggs sunnyside up every
i reer this ability ofthers, because now she is visitinghusband andin the house we just bought in woodside. and i wonder what she will see.
harold and i were lucky to find this place, 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, developers, and city iors. we are only a forty-nute drive tothers apartnt in san franc. this beca a sixty-nute ordeal ing back frosan franc, whenther was with us in the car. after we got to the two-lane winding road to the suit, she touched her haly to harolds shoulder and softly said, &a;a;a;quot;ai, tire squealing.&a;a;a;quot; and then a little later, &a;a;a;quot;too ch tear and wear on car.&a;a;a;quot;
harold had sled and slowed down, but uld see his hands were c&a;a;lt;u&a;a;gt;&a;a;lt;/u&a;a;gt;hedwheel of the jaguar, as he glanervously in his rearview rror at the line of iatient cars that was growing by the nute. and i was secretly glad to watch his disfort. he was always the one who tailgated old ladies in their buicks, honking his horn and revving the engine as if he would run theover uhey pulled over.
and at the sa ti, i hated self for being an-spirited, for thinking harold deserved this tornt. yet uldnt help self. i was d at harold and he was exasperated with . thatbefore we pickedther up, he had said, &a;a;a;quot;you should pay for the externators, because mirugai is your cat and so theyre your fleas. its only fair.&a;a;a;quot;
none of our frienduld ever believe we fight over sothing as stupid as fleas, but they would also never believe that our proble are ch, ch deeper than that, so deep i dont even know where bottois.
and now thatther is here—she is staying for a week, or until the electris are done rewiring her building in san franc—we have to pretend nothing is the tter.
meanwhile she asks over and ain why we had to pay so ch for a renovated barn and a ldew-lined pool on four acres of land, two of which arvered with redwood trees and poison oak. actually she doesnt really ask, she just says, &a;a;a;quot;aii, so ch ney, so ch,&a;a;a;quot; as we show her different parts of the house and land. and her lants alel harold to explain tother in sile ter: &a;a;a;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.&a;a;a;quot;
andther nods and agrees: &a;a;a;quot;blead spongst so ch.&a;a;a;quot;
during our brief tour of the house, shes already found the flaws. she says the slant of the floor kes her feel as if she is &a;a;a;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 &a;a;a;quot;two lopsides.&a;a;a;quot; she sees spiders in high ers and even 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.
shesee all this. and it annoysthat all she sees are the bad parts. but then i look around and everything shes said is true. and this vincesshesee 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 inrice bowl and toldi would rry a bad n.
&a;a;a;quot;aii, lena,&a;a;a;quot; she had said after that dinner so ny y９９lib.ears ago, &a;a;a;quot;your future husband have one pock rk for every rice you not finish.&a;a;a;quot;
she putbowl down. &a;a;a;quot;i onoock-rk n. mean n, bad n.&a;a;a;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 twelve and his na was arnold.
arnold would shoot rubber bands atlegs whenever i walked past his building onway ho froschool, and oi he ran overdoll with his bicycle, crushing her legs below the knees. i didnt want this cruel boy to befuture husband. so i picked up thald bowl of rid scraped the last few grains intouth, then sled atther, fidentfuture husband would be not arnold but soone whose face was as soth as the porcelain innowbowl.
buted. &a;a;a;quot;yesterday, you not finish rice either.&a;a;a;quot; i thought of those unfinished uthfuls of rice, and then the grains that linedbowl the day before, and the day before that. by the nute,eight-year-old heart grew re and re terror-stri over the growing possibility thatfuture husband was fated to be this an boy arnold. and thanks topoor eating habits, his hideous face would eventually resele the craters of the on.
this would have been a funny io reer fro childhood, but it is actually a ry i recall froti to ti with a xture of nausea and rerse. my loathing for arnold had grown to such a point that i eventually found a way to ke hidie. i let ohi froanother. ourse, all of iuld have 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 events and all things as relevant, an opportunity to take or avoid.
i found the opportunity. the sa weekther toldabout the rice bowl andfuture husband, i saw a shog filat 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, &a;a;a;quot;this filwill show you why you should give tithings to god, to do gods work.&a;a;a;quot;
she said, &a;a;a;quot;i want you to think about a nickels worth of dy ney, or however 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.&a;a;a;quot;
and the the filprojector clattering 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 vines. but the st terrible of the afflis were n and won with leprosy. their faces wervered with every kind of sery uld igine: pits and pustules, cracks and bus, and fissures that i was sure erupted with the sa vehence as snails writhing in a bed of salt. ifther had been in the roo she would have toldthese poor people were victi of future husbands and wives who had failed to eat platefuls of food.
after seeing this fil i did a terrible thing. i saw what i had to do so i would not have to rry arnold. i began to leave re ribowl. and theendedprodigal ways beyond ese food. i did not finishcread , 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, ve to afrid die. and this sohow balahe dark possibility that he ght.
he didnt die right away. in fact, it was so five years later, by which ti i had bee quite thin. i had stopped eating, not because of arnold, whoi had long fotten, but to be fashionably anorexic 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 forther 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.
&a;a;a;quot;oh , listen to this,&a;a;a;quot; he said, still dabbing. and thats when he annouhat arnold reisn, a boy who lived in our old neighborhood in oakland, had died of plications froasles. he had just been aepted to cal state hayward and lanning to bee a podiatrist.
&a;a;a;quot;doctors were at first baffled by the disease, which they report is extrely rare and generally attacks childreween the ages of ten and twenty, nths to years after they have tracted the asles virus, &a;a;a;quot; readfather. &a;a;a;quot;the boy had had a ld case of the asles when he was twelve, reported his ther. proble this year were first noticed when the boy developed toordination proble aal lethargy whicreased until he fell into a a. the boy, age seventeen, never regained sciousness.
&a;a;a;quot;didnt you know that boy?&a;a;a;quot; askedfather, and i stood there te.
&a;a;a;quot;this is sha,&a;a;a;quot; saidther, looking at . &a;a;a;quot;this is terrible sha.&a;a;a;quot;
and i thought shuld see throughand that she knew i was the one who had caused arnold to die. i was terrified.
th藏书网at night, inroo i ged self. i had stolen a halfgallon of strawberry ice creafrothe freezer, and i forced spoonful after spoonful downthroat. and later, for several hours after that, i sat hunched on the fire escape landing outsidebedro bato the ice creatainer. and i reer w why it was that eating sothing goould kefeel so terrible, while voting sothing terribluld kefeel so good.
the thought that uld have caused arnolds death is not so ridiculous. perhaps he was destio behusband. because i think to self, even today, howthe world in all its chaos e up with so ny ces, so ny silarities a opposites? why did arnold singleout 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 place—whenther looked inrice bowl—and theo hate hiso ch? isnt hate rely the result of wounded love?
and even when ifinally disss all of this as ridiculous, i still feel that sohow, for the st part, we deserve what we get. i did arnold. i got harold.
harold and i work at the sa architectural fir livotny &a;a;a;a; associates. only harold livotny is a partner and i aan associate. we t eight years ago, before he started livotny &a;a;a;a; associates. i was troject assistant, and he was thirty-four. we both worked in the restaurant design and developnt division of harned kelley &a;a;a;a; davis.
we started seeing each other for w luo talk about the projects, and we would always split the tab right in half, even though i usually ordered only a salad because i have this tendency to gai easily. later, whearted etily for dinner, we still divided the bill.
and we just tihat way, everything 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 .
&a;a;a;quot;lena, youre really extraordinary,&a;a;a;quot; harold said after six nths of dinners, five nths of post-prandial loveking, and one week of tid and silly love 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 revealing places, not very rontic.
and he nuzzledned whispered, &a;a;a;quot;i dont think ive ever t another won, whos so together…&a;a;a;quot;—and i reer feeling a hiup of fear upon hearing the words &a;a;a;quot;another won,&a;a;a;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.
thened said in a rush, &a;a;a;quot;nor anyone whos as soft and squishy and lovable as you are.&a;a;a;quot;
and with that, i swooned inside, caught off balance by this latest revelation of love, w how such a rerkable person as haroluld think i was extraordinary.
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 in love with hi to rry hi all ireer is how awfully lucky i felt, and sequently how worried i was that all this undeserved good fortune would soday slip away. when i fantasized about ving in with hi i alsed updeepest fears: that he would telli slled bad, that i had terrible bathroohabits, thattaste in sid television alling. i worried that harold would soday get a new prescription for his glasses and hed put theon onelookup and down, and say, &a;a;a;quot;why, gosh, you arent the girl i thought you were, are you?&a;a;a;quot;
and i think that feeling of fear never left , that i would be caught soday, exposed as a shaof a won. but retly, a friend of ne, rose, whos in therapy now because her rriage has already fallen apart, toldthose kinds of thoughts are onpla won like us.
&a;a;a;quot;at first i thought it was because i was raised with all this ese hulity,&a;a;a;quot; rose said. &a;a;a;quot;or that ybe it was because when youre ese youre supposed to aept everything, flow with the tao and not ke waves. buttherapist said, why do you bla your culture, your ethnicity? and i reered reading an article about baby boors, how we expect the best and whe it we worry that ybe we should have expected re, because its all dinishiurns after a certain age.&a;a;a;quot;
and aftertalk with rose, i felt better about self and i thought, ourse, harold and i are equals, in ny respects. hes ly handso in the classise, although clear-skinned aainly attractive in that wiry intellectual way. and i y not be a raviy, but a lot of won inaerobics class telli&a;a;a;quot;exotic&a;a;a;quot; in an unusual way, and theyre jealous thatbreasts dont sag, now that sll breasts are in. plus, one ofts said i have incredible vitality and exuberance.
so i think i deserve soone like harold, and i an in the good sense and not like bad kar. were equals. ialso srt. i have on sense. and iintuitive, 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 &a;a;a;a; davis, i said, &a;a;a;quot;harold, this firknows just what a good deal it has with you. youre the goose who lays the golden egg. if you started your own busioday, youd walk away with re than half of the restaurant ts.&a;a;a;quot;
and he said, laughing, &a;a;a;quot;half? boy, thats love.&a;a;a;quot;
and i shouted back, laughing with hi &a;a;a;quot;more than half! youre that good. youre the best there is iaurant design and developnt. you know it and i know it, and so do a lot of restaurant developers.&a;a;a;quot;
that was the night he decided to &a;a;a;quot;go for it,&a;a;a;quot; as he put it, which is a phrase i have personally detested ever since a bank i used to work for adopted the slogan for its eloyee productivity test.
but still, i said to harold, &a;a;a;quot;harold, i want to help you go for it, too. i an, yoing to need o start this business.&a;a;a;quot;
he wouldnt hear of taking any ney fro, not as a favor, not as a loan, not as a, or even as the down paynt on a partnership. he said he valued our relationship too ch. he didnt want to i with ney. he explained, &a;a;a;quot;i wouldnt want a handout any re than youd want one. as long as we keep the hing separate, well always be sure of our love for each other.&a;a;a;quot;
i rotest. i wao say, &a;a;a;quot;no! inot really this way about he way weve been doing it. ireally into giving freely. i want…&a;a;a;quot; but i didnt know where to begin. i wao ask hiwho, what won, had hurt hithis way, that de hiso scared about aepting love in all its wonderful for. but then i heard hisaying what id been waiting to hear for a long, long ti.
&a;a;a;quot;actually, yould helpout if you ved in with . i an, that way uld use the five hundred dollars rent you paid to …&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;thats a wonderful idea,&a;a;a;quot; i said iediately, knowing how earrassed he was to have to askthat way. i was so deliriously happy that it didnt tter that the rent onstudio was really only four huhirty-five. besides, harolds place was icer, a two-bedrooflat with a two-hundred-forty-degree view of the bay. it was worth the extra ney, no tter whoi shared the place with.
so within the year, harold and i quit harned kelley &a;a;a;a; davis aarted livotny &a;a;a;a; associates, and i went to work there as a prordinator. and no, he did half the restaurant ts of harned kelley &a;a;a;a; davis. in fact, harned kelley &a;a;a;a; davis threateo sue if he walked away with eve over theyear. so i gave hipep talks in the evening when he was disced. i told hihow he should do re avantgarde thetic restaurant design, to differentiate hielf frothe other fir.
&a;a;a;quot;who needs another brass and oakwood bar and grill?&a;a;a;quot; i said. &a;a;a;quot;who wants another pasta pla sleek italian derno? holabsp; 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. youfind a niche. do sothing different every ti. get the hong kong iors who are willing to sink so bucks into ari iy.&a;a;a;quot;
he gavehis ad sle, the ohat said, &a;a;a;quot;i love it when youre so naive.&a;a;a;quot; and i adored his looking atlike that.
so i staered outlove. &a;a;a;quot;you…yould do he eating places…a…a…ho on the range! all the hoked stuff, at the kit rah a ginghaapron and waitresses leaning over telling you to finish your soup.
&a;a;a;quot;and ybe…ybe yould do a novel-aurant…foods frofi…sandwiches frolawrence sanders rder steries, just desserts fronora ephroburn. and sothing else with a gic the, or jokes and gags, or…&a;a;a;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 wasidea.
and today livotny &a;a;a;a; associates is a growing firof twelve full-ti people, which specializes iic restaurant design, what i still like to call &a;a;a;quot;the eating.&a;a;a;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 explains, it would not seefair to the other eloyees if he protedjust because we are now rried—that was five years ago, two years after he started livotny &a;a;a;a; associates. and even though i avery good at what i do, i have never been forlly trained in this area. when i was j in asian-ari studies, i took only one relevanurse, ier set design, for llege produ of mada butterfly.
at livotny &a;a;a;a; associates, i procure the the elents. for oaurant called the fisherns tale, one ofprized findings was a yellow varnished wood boat stenciled with the na &a;a;a;quot;overbored,&a;a;a;quot; and i was the one who thought the nus should dangle froniature fishing poles, and the napkins be printed with rulers that have iranslating into feet. for a lawrence of arabia deli called tray sheik, i was the one who thought the place should have a bazaar effect, and i found the replicas obras lying on fake hollywood boulders.
i lovework 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 everybody except , i get upset.
so really, were equals, except that harold kes about seven tis re than what i ke. he knows this, too, because he signsnthly check, and then i deposit it intoseparate cheg at.
lately, however, this business about being equals started to bother . its been onnd, only i didnt really know it. i just felt 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 glasses on top, his favoritffee g with the chipped handle off to the side. and for so reason, seeing all these little dostic signs of faliarity, our daily ritual, deswoon inside. but it was as if i were seeing harold the first ti we de love, this feeling of surrendering everything 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, &a;a;a;quot;harold, i love you.&a;a;a;quot; and he looked in the rearview rror, bag up the car, and said, &a;a;a;quot;i love you, too. did you lock the door?&a;a;a;quot; and just like that, i started to think, its just not enough.
harold jihe car keys and says, &a;a;a;quot;igoing down the hill to buy stuff for dinner. steaks okay? want anything special?&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;were out of rice,&a;a;a;quot; i say, discreetly nodding towardther, whose back is turo . shes looking out the kit window, at the trellis of bougainvillea. and then harold is out the door and i hear the deep rule of the car and then the sound of g gravel as he drives away.
my ther and i are alone in the house. i start to water the plants. she is standing oiptoes, peering at a list stu our refrigerator door.
the list says &a;a;a;quot;lena&a;a;a;quot; and &a;a;a;quot;harold&a;a;a;quot; and under each of our nas are things weve bought and how ch thest:
lenu
chi, veg., bread, brli, shaoo, beer $19.63
maria ( + tip) $65 groceries
(see shop list) $55.15
petunias, potting soil $14.11
photo developing $13.83
harold
garage stuff $25.35
bathroostuff $5.41
car stuff $6.57
light fixtures $87.26
road gravel $19.99
gas $22.00
car sg check $35
movies &a;a;a;a; dinner $65
ice crea$4.50
the way things are going this week, harolds already spent over a hundred dollars re, so ill owe hiaround fifty fro cheg at.
&a;a;a;quot;what is this writing?&a;a;a;quot; asksther in ese.
&a;a;a;quot;oh, nothing really. just things we share,&a;a;a;quot; i say as casually as i .
and she looks atand frowns but doesnt say anything. she goes back to reading the list, this ti re carefully, ving her finger down each ite
and i feel earrassed, knowing what shes seeing. irelieved that she doeshe other half of it, the discussions. through tless talks, harold and i reached an uanding about not including personal things like &a;a;a;quot;scara,&a;a;a;quot; and &a;a;a;quot;shaving lotion,&a;a;a;quot; &a;a;a;quot;hair spray&a;a;a;quot; or &a;a;a;quot;bic shavers,&a;a;a;quot; &a;a;a;quot;taons,&a;a;a;quot; or &a;a;a;quot;athletes foot powder.&a;a;a;quot;
whe rried at city hall, he insisted on paying the fee. i gotfriend robert to take photos. we held a party at our apartnt and everybody brought chaagne. and when we bought the house, we agreed that i should pay only a pertage of thebased on what i earn and what he earns, and that i should own an equivaleage of unity property; this is written in our prenuptial agreent. since harold pays re, he had the deg vote on how the house should look. it is sleek, spare, and what he calls &a;a;a;quot;fluid,&a;a;a;quot; nothing to disrupt the line, aning none ofcluttered look. as for vacations, 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 anniversary gift.
and weve had philosophical argunts over things that have gray borders, likebirth trol pills, or dinners at ho wheertain people who are really his ts orold friends frollege, or food gazihat i subscribe to but he also reads only because hes bored, not because he would have chosen thefor hielf.
aill argue about mirugai, the ot our cat, orcat, but the cat that was his gift toforbirthday last year.
&a;a;a;quot;this, you do not share!&a;a;a;quot; exclaither in an astonished voice. and i astartled, thinking she had readthoughts about mirugai. but then i see she is pointing to &a;a;a;quot;ice creaa;a;quot; on harolds list. my ther st reer the i on the fire escape landing, where she found , shivering and exhausted, sittio that tainer urgitated ice crea uld and the stuff after that. and then i astartled once again to realize that harold has never noticed that i do any of the ice creahe brings ho every friday evening.
&a;a;a;quot;why you do this?&a;a;a;quot;
my ther has a wounded sound in her voice, as if i had put the list up to hurt her. i think how to explain this, recalling the words harold and i have used with each other in the past: &a;a;a;quot;so weelinate false dependencies…be equals…love without obligation…&a;a;a;quot; but these are words shuld never uand.
so instead i tellther this: &a;a;a;quot;i dont really know. its sothiarted before we got rried. and for so reason we opped.&a;a;a;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 ive poured for her. every few nutes she wipes the bottoof the g with a tissue she keeps stuffed in her sweater sleeve.
during dinner, harold keeps the versation going. he talks about the plans for the house: the skylights, expanding the deck, planting 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 plates in the dishwasher.
&a;a;a;quot;whos ready for dessert?&a;a;a;quot; he asks, reag into the freezer.
&a;a;a;quot;ifull,&a;a;a;quot; i say.
&a;a;a;quot;lena ot eat ice crea&a;a;a;quot; saysther.
&a;a;a;quot;so it see. shes always on a diet.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;no, she never eat it. she doesnt like.&a;a;a;quot;
and now harold sles and looks atpuzzled, expegto translate whatther has said.
&a;a;a;quot;its true,&a;a;a;quot; i say evenly. &a;a;a;quot;ive hated ice creaalst alllife.&a;a;a;quot;
harold looks at , as if i, too, were speaking ese and huld not uand.
&a;a;a;quot;i guess i assud you were just trying to lose weight…. oh well.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;she bee so thin now you ot see her,&a;a;a;quot; saysther. &a;a;a;quot;she like a ghost, disappear.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;thats right! christ, thats great,&a;a;a;quot; exclai harold, laughing, relieved in thinkingther is graciously trying to rescue hi
after dinner, i puttowels 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 plain white sheets and white bla, polished wood floors, a bleached oakwood chair, and nothing on the slanted gray walls.
the only ration is an odd-looking piece right o the bed: aable de out of a slab of unevenly cut rble and thin crisscrosses of black lacquer wood for the legs. my ther puts her handbag oable and the drical black vase on top starts to wobble. the freesias in the vase quiver.
&a;a;a;quot;careful, its not too sturdy,&a;a;a;quot; i say. the table is a poorly designed piece that harold de in his student days. ive always wondered why hes so proud of it. the lines are cluy. it doesnt bear any of the traits of &a;a;a;quot;fluidity&a;a;a;quot; that are so iortant to harold these days.
&a;a;a;quot;what use for?&a;a;a;quot; asksther, jiggling the table with her hand. &a;a;a;quot;you put sothing else on top, everything fall down. wang chihan.&a;a;a;quot;
i leavether in her rooand go back downstairs. harold is opening the windows to let the night air in. he does this every evening.
&a;a;a;quot;ild,&a;a;a;quot; i say.
&a;a;a;quot;whats that?&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;could you close the windows, please.&a;a;a;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 even 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 &a;a;a;quot;ice creaa;a;quot; on harolds side of the list.
&a;a;a;quot;whats going on here?&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;i just dont think you should get credit for your ice creaanyre.&a;a;a;quot;
he shrugs his shoulders, ased. &a;a;a;quot;suits .&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;why do you have to be so godda fair!&a;a;a;quot; i shout.
harold puts his gazine down, now wearing his openuthed exasperated look. &a;a;a;quot;what is this? why dont you say whats really the tter?&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;i dont know…. i dont know. everything…the way we at for everything. what we share. what we dont share. iso tired of it, adding things up, subtrag, king it e out even. isick of it.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;you were the one who wahe cat.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;what are you talking about?&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;all right. if you think ibeing unfair about the externators, well both pay for it.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;thats not the point!&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;then tell , please, what is the point?&a;a;a;quot;
i start to cry, which i know harold hates. it always kes hiunfortable, angry. he thinks its nipulative. 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 everything? 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 have gotten rried in the first place. maybe harold is a bad n. maybe ive de hithis way.
none of it see right. nothing kes sense. iadt to nothing and i aie despair.
&a;a;a;quot;i just think we have to ge things,&a;a;a;quot; i say when i think itrolvoice. only the rest es out like whining. &a;a;a;quot;we o think about what our rriage is really based on…not this balance sheet, who ohat.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;shit,&a;a;a;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 voice, &a;a;a;quot;well, i know our rriage is based on a lot re than a balance sheet. a lot re. and if you dont then i think you should think about what else you want, before you ge things.&a;a;a;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 valley beh us, a sprinkling of thousands of lights shiering in the suer fog. and then i hear the sound of glass shattering, upstairs, and a chair scrapes across a wood floor.
harold starts to get up, but i say, &a;a;a;quot;no, ill go see.&a;a;a;quot;
the door is open, but the roois dark, so i call out, &a;a;a;quot;ma?&a;a;a;quot;
i see it right away: the rble end tablllapsed on top of its spindly black legs. off to the side is the black vase, the soth der broken in half, the freesias strewn in a puddle of water.
and then i seether sitting by the open window, her dark silhouette against the night sky. she turns around in her chair, but i t see her face.
&a;a;a;quot;fallen do;quot; she says sily. she doesnt apologize.
&a;a;a;quot;it doesnt tter,&a;a;a;quot; i say, and i start to pick up the broken glass shards. &a;a;a;quot;i k would happen.&a;a;a;quot;
&a;a;a;quot;then why you dont stop it?&a;a;a;quot; asksther.
and its such a sile question.
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