Claire LaZebnik - Knitting Under the Influence

Every choice she had made as an adult was about Charlie. And, in a weird way, about Jason Smith and all the Jason Smiths who had ever shoved Charlie or laughed at him or made Sari hate her own brother for letting himself be made fun of.

She once got so angry at him for always letting them humiliate him that she went after him herself-hit him as hard as she could, clawed at him with her fingernails, screamed at him that he had ruined her life by being autistic. She could remember him backing away from her, terrified, even though he was twice her size. All that night, she couldn't sleep, sick with shame and self-loathing. In the end, she had crawled into bed with him, hugging him and crying, hugging him and crying.

Her anger and her guilt-all the fault of Jason Smith and his friends.

She lay in bed now and wondered: would there truly be any comfort in revenge?

And immediately knew the answer. Of course there would. Of course there would.

Sign me up,” Kathleen said. “It's perfect.” She hoisted herself, ass first, onto the edge of Lucy's kitchen table and sat there, long bare legs dangling-she was wearing shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, even though it was a fairly cool October morning. “Tomorrow at work, I’ll ask Kevin to sponsor me for Sari's autism walk, and then I’ll try to get him to ask to come with me, and he probably will, but even if he doesn't, it'll still make me look all noble and caring.”

“How gullible is this guy?” Lucy asked. “And get off my table. You'll break it.”

Kathleen jumped down. “I need to jump-start this thing. I mean, it's not like we're not spending time together-so far, we've gone running twice, and he flirts like crazy. But he's got this girlfriend to get rid of and he's too nice a guy to just dump her. But if I take him on Sari's autism walk thing, I’m pretty sure I can clinch the deal.”

“How romantic,” Lucy said. “How long is the walk, Sari?”

“Five K. And afterward, they give us lunch. In-N-Out Burgers. And there's supposed to be Krispy Kremes and coffee in the morning before the walk.”

“Woo-hoo,” Kathleen said. “Krispy Kremes? I’m so there.”

“I’m coming late and leaving early,” Lucy said. “I don't want to eat that stuff but I will if it's right there in front of me.”

“No, you won't,” Kathleen said. “You never do. You only eat self-denial. What does that taste like, anyway?”

Like chicken,” Sari said.

“Yeah, well we can't all have your metabolism,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “Or lack of willpower.”

“Haven't you heard?” Kathleen said. “Willpower's out. Self-indulgence is the new willpower.”

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“See if you can dig up anyone else to come, guys,” Sari said. “They want as huge a crowd as they can get.”

Lucy said, “I’ll ask my lab partner. David. He's always doing charity stuff. I bet he'll go.”

“Great,” Sari said. “I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

“You have met him,” Lucy said. “You came to get me at the lab once a few months ago and met him. You guys talked for like ten minutes.”

“Really?” Sari said.

“That's David's most remarkable quality,” Lucy said. “He's completely forgettable. I work with him every day and I can barely remember him.”

“Oh, wait-is he Asian?”

“Half Chinese, half Jewish.”

“Okay. It's coming back. I do remember him. He's a nice guy.”

“He's a nerd,” Lucy said. “A nerd who's very good at killing rats. Not as good as I am, but very good.”

“Excellent,” Sari said. “It's a relief to know we'll be covered if any small animals attack us during the walk.”

Back at her own place later that day, Kathleen let herself slide into a delicious Sunday afternoon nap on her airbed but was woken up by the buzzing of the intercom. Sams state-of-the-art intercom was built into his phone system, but Kathleen hadn't bothered to get a line installed since she had her cell. Fortunately, the building's original buzzer system from the seventies still worked. Very loudly.

Since she rarely had visitors to her unfurnished apartment- and never before an unexpected one-Kathleen quickly shook herself awake and ran over to the speaker.

“Your father's here to see you,” the doorman said.

“Oh, shit,” she said, right into the intercom. “Send him up, I guess.”

She turned and surveyed her living room. It stretched out in all directions, an enormous room with high ceilings and magnificent moldings, furnished with only a single twin airbed. Actually, Kathleen owned two airbeds, both bought at Bed Bath & Beyond for ninety-nine dollars each. One was in her bedroom and therefore her designated bed. This one was in the living room, so it served as a sofa and a place to nap. She also sat on it to eat, so it was her de facto dining room, as well. The actual dining room served as her soccer and field hockey playground. She had recently purchased a set of orange cones, which she used as goals for whatever sport she felt like playing and were currently arranged for soccer. Balls, pucks, bats, and hockey sticks lay scattered on the floor.

There was a knock on the door. Kathleen opened it. Lloyd Winters wasn't alone. There was another guy with him, a younger one, with big brown eyes and longish hair. He wore an oversize sports jacket over a yellow mock turtleneck.

“There she is. My gorgeous baby girl.” Lloyd approached her with his arms out. Kathleen crossed her own tightly across her chest and took a step back. He gave up on the hug but did manage to kiss the air near her cheek. “Kathleen, my beauty, this is Jordan Fisher. Jordan is not only a friend of mine, but one of the hottest young talent agents in Hollywood.”

“Please, Lloyd,” Jordan said, holding up a thin, self-deprecating hand. Then, to Kathleen with a smile: “He exaggerates.” He held the hand out and Kathleen shook it briefly.

“Modest,” Lloyd said, draping an arm across Jordan's shoulder. “Not like most of those conceited bastards. They'll sell you a line, but not this guy. Are you going to let us in, Kathleen?”

“I don't have any furniture,” she said. “You'll have to stand. Or sit on the floor.”

“Only Kathleen,” Lloyd said with a laugh, steering the other man through the door and closing it. “She's an original.”

“How would you know?” Kathleen said. “And why are you here?”

“To see you,” Lloyd said. “Doesn't she look just like me, Jordan?”

“Just like,” he said.

“The features are almost the same, but on her they make something beautiful.”

“They really work,” Jordan said.

“You haven't answered my question,” Kathleen said.

“Can't a father come see his-”

“No, really,” she said. “Why are you here?”

Jordan tossed his long hair. “You really cut through the crap, don't you, Kathleen? I admire that.” And you really dish it out, Kathleen thought, without any admiration at all. “Your father's been telling me a lot about you. A lot of very interesting and wonderful things. Do you know what he says about you?”

“That we barely know each other?”

The men laughed as if she had said something witty. “The greatest regret of my life,” Lloyd said gallantly. He had gotten his hair cut very short recently-buzzed, really. It was starting to recede, and Kathleen suspected that this was his attempt to hide it.

Jordan put his hand on her arm. “Let me tell you what he says. He says that you're the true beauty of the family. The true talent, too. Not to disparage your sisters, who are lovely, lovely ladies. But we all know that the fact that they're identical twins has a lot to do with their success and-uh, may I be completely frank here?”