Domestic Arrangements

by Norma Klein

  “You mean, because they were interviewing me?” I said.

  “Yeah . . . here I thought she’d seemed fairly cheery, for her, since she’s been seeing that forlorn specimen with the beard.”

  “He’s not a forlorn specimen, Mom,” I said. “He’s Joshua’s brother.”

  “Is he? Goodness, I didn’t know . . .”

  “He makes lutes.”

  “Does he? Well, if that’s all he can find to—”

  “Amanda!” Daddy said.

  “I’m sorry,” Mom said, giggling. She looked at Daddy soulfully. “Why did you give me such a huge tumbler of wine, you idiot? You know how I am.”

  “They’re coming back,” I said. “They want to meet me at school next week.”

  “Well,” Daddy said, “I suppose we’ve been through the worst of it.”

  “And I’ll be clinging to a coconut tree in sunny Puerto Rico,” Mom said. “Will you all miss me horribly?”

  “Of course we will,” Daddy said. “Could you doubt it for a minute?”

  Mom kissed him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mike Nadler and Trudy met me after school. I’d told them I didn’t want them to come into my class or anything, but that I wouldn’t mind if they met Shellie and went to the Pizza Place with us. They did. Trudy took some shots of us eating pizza.

  “Are you Rusty’s best friend?” Mike asked Shellie.

  Shellie looked at me and smiled. “I guess . . . I think I am.”

  “She is,” I said.

  “How’d you like Domestic Arrangements?”

  “I thought it was terrific,” Shellie said. “And Rusty, too.”

  “You think she can really act? That she wasn’t just playing herself?”

  Shellie looked horrified. “Oh no! Rusty’s not at all like that girl. The exact opposite, in fact.”

  “The exact opposite?”

  “Yeah . . . I mean that girl—Samantha, was that her name?—she was the kind who’d steal your boyfriend away and stuff like that. And who came on with older men and people’s fathers. Rusty would never do that.”

  Mike smiled at me. “Would you never do that, Rusty?”

  I shook my head.

  “By the way,” he said, “I meant to mention . . . That’s some mother you have.”

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “She’s really dynamic,” he said enthusiastically.

  I nodded. “She’s a really good actress, too. You should see her on The Way We Are Now.”

  “I have . . . I watched the show this week. The two of you ought to be in something together.”

  “Maybe we will,” I said.

  “I guess that’s where you get your red hair,” he said.

  “Sort of,” I said. I didn’t want to mention about Mom dyeing hers.

  “What do you mean sort of?”

  “Well, my grandmother had red hair too.”

  Shellie couldn’t come home with me. I walked her to the subway and then Mike Nadler drove me home. At least I avoided Evan and Roger at the bus stop.

  The next day was Saturday. Mom had left the day before for Puerto Rico. Daddy asked if I wanted to go to a screening with him and Abigail. I said yes. Ever since I broke up with Joshua, I don’t have that much to do on weekends unless there’s a party that sounds really good. Basically, I haven’t felt that sociable lately. I don’t feel like meeting some other boy, so what’s the point?

  The movie was good after the first half hour, which showed this woman having a cesarean section. I hate gory things like that in movies. I kept my hand over my eyes until Daddy nudged me and said, “You can come out now.”

  “The Czechs are doing some interesting things lately,” Abigail said when we got out. Then she looked at her watch. “Oh, help! Listen, I told the sitter I’d be back on the nose of four.”

  “We’ll go with you,” Daddy said.

  We went back to Abigail’s apartment. She paid the sitter. “I guess that’s that,” she said looking sadly at Daddy.

  “Why? Bring him along. Do you like Chinese food, Kerim?”

  Kerim began jumping up and down.

  “See?” Daddy said. “Let’s go.”

  We ate out at a Chinese place near our house. Daddy and Abigail began talking a lot about this film he’s been doing, which she’s editing. I sort of half listened and half didn’t. We decided to walk home since it was still light.

  “Oh, Daddy, can we go in there?”

  “What is it, Tat?”

  It was an art store that had these great hats. I’ve been meaning to get one for the longest time. They have horns on them and they’re made of cotton. The store had a whole pile of them.

  I tried on a lot of them. They came in all different colors. There were three kinds—one with horns like a goat, one with curled horns, and one with little silver wings. Abigail began trying them on too.

  “Hey, you look great,” Daddy said when she had on this red one with silver wings.

  “Do I?” She looked pleased. “Doesn’t it look silly?”

  “I want one,” Kerim said, pulling at her.

  “Okay, sweetie, we’ll get this for both of us.” Abigail snuck up behind Daddy and plunked a hat on his head. “Ta da!”

  “Oh, Daddy, you look so cute,” I said.

  “Me?” Daddy said, blushing.

  “Li, you look darling,” Abigail exclaimed. “I love it. Oh get it . . . really.”

  “Do they have a mirror here?” Daddy said. He went over and glanced at himself. He was wearing a blue hat with curled horns. Abigail came and stood next to him. She was still wearing the red hat with silver wings.

  “See,” she said, “it’s really perfect.”

  Daddy smiled. “Well, since everyone seems to . . . But where will I wear it?”

  “Everywhere!” Abigail said.

  I got a green one with regular horns.

  We all walked out, wearing our hats. People on the street stopped to stare at us. “I do feel slightly conspicuous,” Daddy murmured.

  “No. Don’t be silly,” Abigail said. “It’s your new image . . . to go with losing all that weight.”

  Daddy is actually down to 150 pounds! Can you imagine? He says he hasn’t weighed that since college. He does look a little different, actually. I mean, I liked him the other way. He was more kind of round and cuddly.

  “Li, don’t get too thin,” Abigail said as we were going up in the elevator.

  “Nonsense. Do I look too thin?”

  “No, but . . . you do look a little . . . drawn almost.” She reached out and patted him. “I mean, you have bones!”

  “I always had bones,” Daddy said. “They were just buried under mounds of fat, that’s all.”

  “You were never fat,” she said, “just—”

  “Pleasantly plump,” I said.

  “Cheerfully chubby,” Abigail said.

  “Robustly round?” Daddy said wryly.

  Upstairs no one was home. Deel was out with Neil.

  “Looks like he’s still going strong,” Daddy said, looking at Kerim who was running around our living room.

  “I’m afraid so,” Abigail said, wistfully.

  “Should I read to him?” I said. “Would he like that?”

  “Would you?” Abigail looked delighted. She looked at Daddy. “Maybe we can just go over that one section.”

  I took Kerim into my room. I still have lots of picture books left over from when I was little, Goodnight Moon, Where the Wild Things Are, George and Martha. I read him about six of them. Toward the end he began leaning against me, sucking his thumb. It made a loud rubbery sound. Then I looked down and saw he’d fallen asleep.

  I went back into the living room. “He’s asleep,” I said.

  Daddy carried Kerim into the living room and covered him with an afghan. “Think he’ll be okay?” he said to Abigail.

  “Oh sure,” she said. “He sleeps anywhere . . . like a log.”

  I went in to get into my nightgown. When I
came back, Daddy came over to me. “Uh, Tat? I was wondering if I could ask you a tremendous favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, do you think you could possibly sleep in Delia’s room tonight? Abigail and I still have quite a lot of work to do, and I thought since Kerim’s fallen asleep, the two of them might stay in your room tonight.”

  “Sure, that’s okay.” I went into Deel’s room. Deel happens to be one of the great slobs of all time; I don’t see how she can stand it. You can hardly even enter her room. She has two beds, one against each wall. When we were little, we both used to stay in this room, but when she got to be thirteen, Mom fixed up the back room for me because she thought Deel needed more privacy. At first I didn’t like it at all. I used to sneak back into Deel’s room sometimes because I felt so lonely by myself. But now I really like it, having my own room.

  All of a sudden, someone gave me a shove. It was Deel. I guess I must have fallen asleep.

  “What are you doing in here?” she said angrily.

  I squinted up at her. “What?”

  “Get back in your own room!”

  “I can’t,” I said, yawning. “Abigail’s in there.”

  “Oh, shit.” She turned to Neil who was standing right behind her.

  “Delia, come with me, okay?” he said softly.

  “Where?”

  “Just come.”

  I was really only half awake, and fell back asleep about one second later. When I woke up next, the room was still dark but Deel was sleeping in the other bed. I squinted at the digital clock; it said 3:20. I felt really thirsty, I don’t know why. Quietly, I got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, through the living room and dining room and into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of grapefruit juice. Then I started feeling a little bit hungry so I got out this cannister of unsalted cashew nuts that Daddy buys from a special store on Broadway. They’re good. I sat down on one of the stools and began eating them and reading some recipes Mom had Scotch-taped up on the kitchen wall. You may not know this, but one very soothing thing to do at night, if you can’t sleep, is to read recipes. They’re very organized, and reading about things like cups of honey and heavy cream really makes you feel sleepy. I gave a big yawn.

  Then suddenly the door to my room opened, and Daddy came out. He was wearing this red flannel nightshirt that Mom got him for Christmas. When he saw me, he looked startled.

  “Tat, what are you doing up?”

  “I felt thirsty.”

  He stood there, looking worried. “Uh . . . what time is it?”

  “Three thirty.”

  “I—Abigail and I had a lot of work to do,” he said.

  “Uh huh?” I looked up at him with my big-blue-eyes look. I remember Charlie asking me to look that way in one scene, sort of innocent and sweet.

  “How long have you been up?” he asked, reaching for some nuts.

  “About ten minutes.”

  “I see.” He stood there, looking very uncomfortable. “Kerim was sleeping so soundly, we thought we’d leave him in the living room.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I’ll see you in the morning, then.” He tried to smile cheerfully.

  “Yeah . . . sleep tight, Daddy.”

  “You too, darling.” He padded off to his and Mom’s room.

  I went back to bed about five minutes later. At first my feet were cold from not having worn slippers, but I put a pair of Deel’s wool knee socks on and pretty soon I fell asleep again.

  When I woke up again, it was morning, almost eleven. Deel was lying in bed, her eyes open, looking at the ceiling.

  “Hi,” I said. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”

  “That’s okay.” She smiled at me. “We did it, Rust.”

  “Where?” She looked really excited and pleased.

  “In the living room.”

  “I thought Kerim was there.”

  “He slept through it. We put this blanket over us in case he woke up . . . Oh Tat, he’s so nice! I think I love him. And he loves me. He said up till now he never met a girl he could really, like, talk to about things. They were all just interested in screwing with him. He told me his mantra.”

  “He must really like you.”

  “And it isn’t like he’s desperate or anything. He’s had lots of girl friends, but no one really special. He’s making me a lute . . . he’s going to give me lessons.”

  Deel used to play the guitar, but she gave up after about five lessons.

  I stretched. “That’s great, Deel.” I felt a little sad, thinking of Joshua. Now I know how Deel must have felt.

  “Rust? You know, Neil says Joshua misses you a lot.”

  “Yeah, well. . .”

  “He says he talks about you all the time. He feels really bad about what happened.”

  I got out of bed. I didn’t that much feel like talking about it.

  Abigail and Kerim were in the kitchen making French toast. “Hon, easy on the vanilla,” she said, grabbing his arm. “It’s just for flavor . . . Hi, Rusty.”

  “Hi,” I said. “Um, that smells good.”

  “Want some? There’s enough batter for lots of slices.”

  “Sure . . . where’s Daddy?”

  “I guess he’s still sleeping.” She seemed very casual, like nothing special had happened. Maybe it didn’t. Last night was peculiar.

  “Did Kerim sleep all right?”

  “Yes, your bed’s very comfortable.”

  “But I thought—” I looked down at him. “I guess kids sleep well most places.”

  “He does.”

  When Daddy got up, he went down and got the Sunday paper. We all sat around reading it and eating French toast. Daddy let himself have one slice.

  “You’re practically the thinnest person in the family,” Deel said admiringly. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Daddy said. “It’s a lifetime thing . . . but it’s interesting, people do look at you differently. It’s like coming back as a different person.”

  “How differently?” Abigail said.

  “I think people feel safe with a fat person, unthreatened . . . You’re a kind of father figure for everybody.”

  “Well, but you are a father,” I pointed out.

  “True.”

  Daddy and Abigail went out around two. I looked over at Deel who was reading the Book Review section. “She’s nice, don’t you think?” I said.

  “Who? Abigail? Yeah.”

  I wanted to tell Deel about last night, but this didn’t seem like the right time, with her so absorbed in the thing about Neil. I thought some more about what she said about Joshua. I’d like to think that’s true, that he misses me and thinks about me since I miss him and think about him, but I don’t know. I guess I could even call him, but I just don’t feel like it. I feel he really did hurt my feelings, implying that I’d act in just anything, and make a fool of myself, when he didn’t know anything about the movie.

  Anyway, how about the things I turned down? How about the TV movie about the Mormon girl who’s raped by her father, but can’t say anything because her family would be ostracized from the community? And how about the TV series where I would have been the teenage daughter of a woman judge who’s married to a man who stays home and runs a day-care center? They would have paid me five thousand dollars an episode for that! And there was some movie that was going to be shot in Israel about a Jewish girl who doesn’t look Jewish and goes hitchhiking through the desert. There were lots of things! So if Joshua thinks I’m just the kind of person who’ll do anything for money, he’s wrong! I’m not at all that kind of person.

  The script of Lolita arrived, and Mom and Daddy read it. They both liked it, Mom more than Daddy. It’s by someone who did some other movie they thought was good, I forget what it was called. I thought it was a slightly weird story. I mean, the girl in it is really peculiar! Everyone in it is weird, especially the mother and that man who likes her. I don’t
exactly know what Daddy meant when he said it’s a witty satire on American life. In what way? I don’t know anybody like those people at all!

  Shellie said the movie of Lolita was playing Sunday night at the Thalia and did I want to go with her and Kenny. I said I would. I thought that was really nice of her, to include me on her date. Shellie is that kind of person. She’d make a terrific mother. She’s always thinking of other people and trying to do things to make you feel better.

  One strange thing happened, though. As we were standing on line to go into the movie, I suddenly saw Joshua walking out of it. I turned my head away, but he saw me and looked over at me. He sort of stopped, as though he was trying to decide whether to come over and say something, but then we got our tickets and went in. My heart was beating so fast I felt sick. I sat in the theater and didn’t even pay attention to the first part of the movie. I wonder if he went because of me, because I’d mentioned I might be in it, or if he thought I might be there.

  Mom came back Wednesday. She had a great tan and looked terrific. Her skin isn’t as light as mine. I can’t stay in the sun at all or I’ll look like a lobster. “I was up in that tree for three days,” she said. “Can you imagine? We shot the whole thing and then they lost the film! We had to do the whole thing over. My God!” She noticed the new hat Daddy had bought for himself when he was out with me and Abigail. “Sweetie, whatever possessed you?” she said.

  Daddy smiled. “I don’t know. I just thought—”

  Mom tried it on. Since she’s so tall, she looked sort of like Wonder Woman. Then she put it on Daddy. “Look at you!” she said, laughing. “I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s his new image,” I said.

  “Will wonders never cease,” Mom said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It’s definite about my going to California. I’ll leave on a Monday and return the following Sunday. Helen has it all arranged with the publicity people. Felix is flying out too. I guess we’ll be on most of the shows together. Helen said not to worry, that it would be fine, just answering the same kinds of questions I’ve been answering already. At first Mom thought she might come along since she loves California and has some friends there, but then she realized she’d miss rehearsals and couldn’t.