A. Homes - This Book Will Save Your Life

"What were you thinking?" Richard says.

"I saw this incredible thing — a woman swimming with the dolphins, she was like a mermaid. I stayed out here waiting for her to swim back."

"She walks back," Richard says, with great authority.

"And I was planning my movie in my head — the one about Anhil, Bollywood meets Hollywood, a comedy in a donut shop."

"I thought you were making a documentary."

"I am, but it needs a frame, a second story — don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know. Have you ever been in the sun before?" Richard asks. "Do you have any idea of how strong it is?"

"You sound like Grandpa."

"I'm sure I do."

Ben brings an aloe-vera plant from the kitchen and squeezes gel out of the leaves.

"How do you know how to do that?"

"It's a nanny thing — she was always squeezing aloe vera out of everything."

Richard puts the gel on Barth — he's meaty, it's like slathering goo onto bacon. "We're all going out to dinner. Do you want to come?" he asks Barth.

"No, I don't feel very well."

He gives Barth a bottle of Gatorade. "Drink this — a lot of it — and if your back gets blistery you're going to have to go to the doctor." He shakes his head. "How could you just lie there frying?"

"I just kept thinking about how great the sun feels."

RICHARD and Ben meet Cynthia at The Ivy. She looks good; the dress from Target fits her well.

"So — you left your family and now you're in rehab?" Ben asks.

"It's not really rehab, it's like a job-training program for women who haven't worked in a long time."

"What do you do there?"

"Work on math and computer stuff. Right now we're running what we call 'the store,' it's really just a storage room, but it's stocked — we've got wooden play food; clothes for Barbie Dolls, everything in miniature. Everything has a bar code, we learn to scan, to put things on sale, keep an inventory, balance profit-and-loss statements. I haven't had a job in fifteen years. Luckily, I know all kinds of computer games, from playing with the kids. One of the women has three fingers with no fingertips — they got cut off in a food processor and she thinks her family ate them, she's relearning how to type."

"I went to rehab when I was fourteen," Ben says.

"You did?" Richard asks.

Ben nods. "For three weeks. We had family therapy and everything."

"How come I never knew?"

"Mom was so mad about the whole thing that, when she checked me in and they asked for my father's name, she told them I didn't have a father, she said that she was a single mother and had used a sperm donor; she couldn't exactly go back on it."

"How's The Agency?" Cynthia asks Ben.

"They took us into a conference room and said, 'This is THE AGENCY. These are the rules. Do not make eye contact with your superiors — we talk at you, not to you. Do not lean back in your chair — if you are leaning back you are not working. You have not earned the privilege of daydreaming. Keep yourself and your superiors well hydrated, always offer visitors something to drink. Do not leave the office before your superiors.' Another guy came in — the 'field nurse' — and gave us our confidentiality papers, parking passes, and a set of Agency playing cards with pictures of all the top agents, their names, backgrounds, client lists. And then I learned how to roll calls."

"Roll calls?"

"Yes, 'I have so-and-so calling for you.'"

Their dinners arrive. Huge portions.

"We could have shared," Cynthia says.

"It reminds me of The Palm," Ben says. "Grandma and Grandpa always take us there for special occasions; it has good lighting, and there's one in every city. The Palm in New York, The Palm in Boston."

Cynthia excuses herself to go to the ladies' room. "She's nice."

"She's not my girlfriend. I met her in the produce section, I'm helping her through a difficult time. What were you doing that you had to go to rehab?"

"Everything. I looked so sick for about a month that Mom told people I had mono."

When Cynthia comes back, she tells them how the roommate lost one of her "pills" and kept accusing Cynthia of stealing it until she found it in the living-room carpet. "I may have to move."

"You could live with us," Ben says. "Your room is still empty."

"Thanks, but this is your summer to be with your dad, and, besides, I need to be on my own. What's most exciting to me right now is the idea of being alone, entirely alone — no one talking to me, not sharing a bathroom with anyone."

"Don't you think you'd get lonely?"

"No."

Richard's cell phone rings. He politely excuses himself and steps outside. Richard signs for the cars, tips the delivery guys, and goes back to the table.

The waiter brings out a dessert with a candle in it. "Happy Birthday," the waiter says. "I'm assuming you don't want me to sing."

"Oh, it's not my birthday," Richard says.

"Yes, it is," Cynthia says. "Don't be shy."

"Blow out the candle," the waiter says.

The three of them share the dessert — with Richard continuing to protest, "It's not my birthday."

"Of course it's not," Cynthia says. "But I told them it was your birthday because in a lot of places they give you a free dessert if it's your birthday."

WHEN THEY ARE DONE, Richard picks up the check, Ben and Cynthia thank him, and they all walk outside.

Richard is excited, but trying to act cool. They stand on the sidewalk waiting for the car. "Can we give you a ride home?" he asks Cynthia.

"Sure," she says.

The valet brings up the cars. Ben and Cynthia stand around, waiting for Bentley.

"I have something for each of you," Richard says, pointing to the cars. It takes them a minute to catch on.

"Black for Ben and blue for Cynthia — I wanted pink but there is no such thing."

"Are you serious? You leased cars for us?" Cynthia says.

"I didn't lease anything; I paid cash."

"I haven't had my own car since I was eighteen, and that was a green Ford Falcon that belonged to my aunt who died of breast cancer — I always worried that the car was contagious." She kisses him and begins to cry.

"Your girlfriend," Ben says.

The valet throws the keys to Ben, and Richard gets in on the passenger side. They take off up Ocean Avenue, yelling back and forth between the cars:

"Does yours have a flower?"

"Yes." Cynthia turns on the radio and dances in her seat.

"Try the heated seats," Ben says. "Look at how the roof goes."

"Whoopie!"

Richard feels good — good to the point of being afraid.

"You're a lucky guy," Cynthia yells to Ben. "You've got a great dad."

"It's complicated," Ben says.

Later, when they are home, Ben asks, "How do you buy a car for someone who is not your girlfriend?"

"You do for others what you can't do for yourself."

After Ben is asleep, he goes next door to return the Bentley keys.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure."

Nic pours Richard a scotch.

"I should thank you for having us last night," Richard says.

"I should thank you for going in after my friend," Nic says, tossing back his scotch and pouring another. "He's a perfect example of a man who should never under any circumstances drink." With great expertise Nic rolls a cigarette and lights it.

"Do you like all the wow-wow, as Anhil calls it?"

"I like the hot dogs and the dancing around the fire. And I like to scream, and I'm kind of a pyro; you didn't stay for the part where we light a hundred sparklers."

"What's the story with the Ron guy and his…?"

"Penis puppet. Personally, I like the fruit fly."

"I thought you said no actors."

"He's not an actor, he's a comic and a contortionist." Nic leans back and takes a drag; the cigarette sizzles.

"Do you remember anything about being a kid?" Richard asks.