Джонатан Троппер - This Is Where I Leave You

“When will you be finished?” my mother asks, and for an instant I think she’s asking when Arlene will be done boring us to tears.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Arlene says. “At this rate, I won’t have a kitchen for the holidays, and my Roger is supposed to be coming in with the grandchildren.” Her Roger was in my class, a morbidly obese kid with crumbs on his shirt who wrote a computer program that he sold for millions, bought a mansion in Silicon Valley and a mail-order bride from the Philippines.

“It will be worth it when it’s done,” Mom says, trying to wrap things up.

“If it hasn’t killed me by then,” Arlene says, and then gasps at the potential offensiveness of her remark. But before the awkwardness of the moment can harden into something uncomfortable, there’s a sharp cracking sound as Arlene’s chair finally gives out, and she comes crashing down to the floor with a shriek. There follows a moment of stunned silence, the kind that stops time and pulls it like taffy. Everyone’s inner child struggles to suppress a grade-school snicker. It takes a handful of women to help Arlene to her bloated feet. I look at Edward, who has gotten up from his own chair but has been pushed outside the circle of straining women, and our eyes meet. And maybe I’m projecting here, but I would swear, at that moment, that he’s fighting back a smile that, unhindered, would split his face in two.

ARLENE’S FALL EFFECTIVELY clears the house, which frees everyone else to weigh in on the news that I’m going to be a father.

Mom: If it’s a boy, I hope you’ll consider naming him for your father.

Linda: That’s wonderful, Judd. I think you’ll be a great father.

Wendy: Jen is three months along? She doesn’t even have a baby bump yet. You’d better make sure she’s eating.

Phillip: Wade may have won the battle, but you won the war. At least your boys can swim!

Tracy: That’s wonderful, Judd. If you frame this with a positive attitude, it will be the greatest experience of your life.

Paul: This means I might have to rethink my theory that Jen left you because you’re gay.

Phillip: I’m going to be an uncle.

Wendy: Dumb shit. You already are an uncle.

Phillip: I meant again.

Mom: Presumably, Jen’s relationship with Wade is intensely sexual. This could very well be the end of them. Her priorities are going to change. You could start fresh.

Barry: New York is preparing the documents. We’ll have to massage the interest rates a little bit, but we’ll push it through. Believe me, in this economy, everyone wants this deal to happen.

Ryan and Cole are in the pool. Cole wears Spider-Man water wings on his arms to keep him afloat. He and Ryan are engaged in an endless cycle of jumping in off the side and then climbing out to jump in again. Wendy sits suspended over the water on the far edge of the diving board, flipping through a tabloid magazine, while I pick at a platter of pastries on one of the lounge chairs. Serena is asleep in her carriage under an umbrella. The sun is just receding beyond the perimeter of the yard, and the mosquitoes haven’t yet emerged. It’s the best time to be outside.

“My God, I’m fat,” Wendy says, looking through pictures of starving starlets.

“You just had a baby, give yourself a break.”

“I had a baby seven months ago. I’ve been dieting and running every day, and everything in my strike zone still feels like the blob. I won’t even change in front of Barry.”

“I feel like I’ve put on some weight myself,” I say, biting into a marzipan-coated petit four.

She looks me over critically. “You are looking a little soft in the middle there. You may want to watch that. After all, you’re going to be getting naked in front of new women now.”

“From your mouth to God’s ear.”

Wendy laughs. “Jen had an incredible body. I would kill for her legs. And tits. And ass. I hope you’re not holding out for another one like that. They’re few and far between, and they generally don’t put out for unemployed divorcees with no abs.”

“Well, you know my motto. If at first you don’t succeed, lower your standards.”

“Mommy!” Ryan calls. “Watch me.”

“Okay, honey,” Wendy says absently, still looking down at the magazine. “Well, we can only hope that this pregnancy will leave Jen with stretch marks and a belly flap. No mother should have a stomach that flat. It’s just unfair.”

“I saw Penny today.”

Wendy puts down the magazine. “Penny Moore? How’d she look?”

“I don’t know. She looked good.”

“Is she married? Divorced? Kids? What?”

“She’s not married. She teaches skating and works evenings at the store.”

“Our store? She worked for Dad?”

“Yup.”

“So, Penny Moore is going to be your rebound. That’s fantastic.”

“No. I just ran into her.”

“Serves her right after the way she led you on in high school.”

“She didn’t lead me on and she’s not going to be my anything. She’s just an old friend.”

“She cock-teased you for your entire senior year. And if she didn’t mean anything, then why did you mention it?”

“I’m just making conversation.”

“I’m your sister, Judd. You don’t make conversation with your sister. You wanted to say her name.”

“And now I wish I hadn’t.”

“Oh, grow up. Your wife left you and you haven’t had sex in forever. You’ve got a kid coming, and God only knows what kind of mess that’s going to be. That pregnancy may be the best thing that ever happened to you, but it’s a ticking clock. You’ve got six months or so to get your shit together, to be ready to be a father and start caring for someone other than yourself. If I were you, I’d quit beating around the bush. You like Penny, admit you like her and go for it. Maybe you get somewhere with her, or maybe you get rejected. Either way, you get something.”

“I’ve been married for almost ten years. I’m out of practice.”

“No offense, little brother, but you didn’t exactly have mad skills back in the day.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost.”

“I’m just being honest.”

Horry emerges at the back door, sucking on an apple core. “Your uncle Stan is here. Your mom wants you back in your little chairs.”

“Kill me now,” Wendy says. “Please.” She tries to stand up, but her foot slides on the magazine, and she lets out a startled shriek as she loses her balance and falls into the pool. I jump to my feet, but before I can get moving, Horry comes tearing down the lawn and, after just a few long strides, executes a long racing dive into the pool. He resurfaces and swims over to where Wendy is coughing and sputtering, her sundress pooling around her like a tent. Ryan stands on the side of the pool, terrified. Cole floats and sings to himself in the shallow end, oblivious.

“You okay?” Horry says.

“Yeah,” Wendy says, somewhat nonplussed as he pulls her into a lifesaver’s hold. He swims her over to the side so she can grab on to the ladder. “Oh, Horry, you jumped in with all your clothes.”

“So did you,” he says. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe I did that. I’m such a cow.”

“You’re not a cow,” Horry says, pulling the hair off her face. “You’re my sunflower.”

She smiles tenderly at him and briefly touches his face. “I remember.”

“You’re not a cow,” he says again, treading water slowly away from her. “And he should be better to you.”

“Thank you,” she says softly as Horry turns and swims toward the shallow end.