Anne Tyler - Noah's Compass

“What did I lose?”

“Didn’t you say your first wife had died?”

“Oh, yes. But that was a long time before.” He slapped his thighs and stood up. “Let me top off your coffee!” he said.

“No, thanks, I’m okay.”

He sat down again. He said, “Should we be getting on with my résumé?”

“All right,” she said. “Fine.” She clicked her pen point. “First, your places of employment.”

“Employment. Well. From nineteen seventy-five to nineteen eighty-two, I taught ancient history at the Fremont School.”

“The Fremont School? Gosh,” Eunice said.

“That was my first job.”

“Well, but you’re supposed to start with your last job,” she told him, “and work your way back.”

“You’re right. Okay: eighty-two till this past spring, I taught at St. Dyfrig.”

She wrote it down without comment.

“I taught fifth grade from ninety… four? No, three. From ninety-three on, and before that, American history.”

He liked this business of proceeding in reverse order. It meant he was listing progressively higher positions instead of lower. (In his opinion, history was definitely higher than fifth grade, and ancient history higher than American.) Eunice took notes in silence. When he stopped speaking, she looked up and said, “Any honors or awards?”

“Miles Elliott Prize in Philosophy, nineteen sixty-nine.”

“You were employed in sixty-nine?”

“I was in college.”

“Oh. College.”

“Philosophy was my major,” he said. “Pretty silly, right? Who do you know who’s majored in philosophy and actually works as a philosopher?”

“How about your professional life? Any awards there?”

“No.”

“Let’s pass on to your education.” She flipped a page of the steno pad. “I have this software program that produces résumés,” she told him. “All I have to do is plug in the facts and the program does the rest. My parents gave it to me for Christmas one year. Is your computer Windows or Macintosh?”

“I don’t have a computer,” he said.

“You don’t have a computer. Okay. I’d better write your letter of inquiry, too,” she said, and she made another note.

Liam said, “Eunice. Do you really think we should go on with this?”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t have any business experience. I’m a teacher! I don’t even know what they’re looking for.”

Eunice seemed about to offer an argument, but just then Kitty came out of the den. She was wearing shorts now and a T-shirt that advertised Absolut vodka. “Poppy,” she said, “can I borrow your car?”

“My car! What for?”

“I need to get some more of my clothes.”

Liam wasn’t used to lending out his car. He knew it wasn’t much of a car, but it was sort of attuned to his ways, he felt. Also, he had a suspicion that there was some kind of insurance complication with teenage drivers.

“Why don’t I take you over myself later this afternoon,” he said.

“I won’t keep it long! I’ll have it back before you even miss it.”

“Just wait till we’re finished here and I’ll drive you.”

“Geez,” Kitty said, and she threw herself into the other armchair. She sat practically on the back of her neck, with her long bare legs stretched out in front of her, and sent him a fierce glare.

“Eunice and I were just discussing my employment,” Liam told her.

Kitty went on glaring.

“Eunice thinks I ought to apply at Cope Development, but I was telling her I don’t know what I could do there.”

“What’s Cope Development,” Kitty said without a question mark.

“It’s a place that develops new properties.”

“He would be terrible at that,” Kitty told Eunice.

Eunice made a sound between a gasp and a giggle.

“I’m serious,” Kitty said. “He’s not a good businessman.”

“How would you know what kind of businessman I am?” Liam asked her. Then he realized that he was undermining his own argument, so he turned back to Eunice and said, “But just in terms of where I’d be comfortable, I don’t believe Cope’s the right fit. I’m sorry, Eunice.”

Eunice said, “Oh.”

She looked down at what she’d written. Then she clicked her pen shut. Finally, it seemed, she had heard what he was saying. “I understand,” she said gently.

“I’m sorry I put you to so much trouble.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You’ve been telling me this all along, haven’t you? I guess I’ve been kind of pushy.”

“No, no. Certainly not! You’ve been wonderful,” he said. “I really appreciate your help.” He told Kitty, “She’s been helping with my résumé. She’s got this computer program that…”

Kitty was watching him with mild, detached curiosity. Eunice was still gazing down at her steno pad. Her lowered lids gave her a meek and chastened look; all her enthusiasm had left her.

All his had left, too-all his sense of something new in the air, something about to happen.

He said, “But couldn’t we go on keeping the notebook anyhow?”

She raised her eyes and said, “Pardon?”

“I mean…” he said, and he cleared his throat. “Couldn’t we go on keeping in touch?”

“Oh! Of course we could!” she said. “Certainly we could! No matter where you apply you’ll need a résumé, right?”

This wasn’t what he had meant, but he said, “Right.”

He pretended not to hear Kitty’s snort of amusement.

Early on the fifth of July, Louise phoned and asked Liam if he would babysit. “I know it’s short notice,” she said, “but my regular sitter has called in sick and I’ve got a doctor’s appointment just around the corner from you. I could drop Jonah off at your place on the way.”

“You mean, all by himself?” Liam asked.

“Why, yes.”

“But I don’t have any toys here. I have nothing to amuse him with.”

“We’ll bring some with us. Please? Ordinarily I would cancel, but this appointment means a lot to me.”

Liam supposed, from her phrasing, that it might be an obstetrician’s appointment. He didn’t want to seem nosy, though, so all he said was, “Well, okay, I guess.”

“Thanks, Dad. I appreciate this.”

He wondered why she hadn’t asked Barbara, who could pretty much arrange her own schedule in the summertime. Or why she didn’t just take Jonah along with her to the doctor’s office. Surely that was allowed, wasn’t it? Too bad Kitty had already left for work. He really had no idea what to do with a four-year-old.

They showed up at his door half an hour later-Louise out of breath and rushed-looking, wearing dressier clothes than usual and even a bit of lipstick. Jonah had on a T-shirt and what appeared to be swim trunks, orange Hawaiian-print nylon billowing around his toothpick shins. A knapsack almost bigger than he was loomed on his back. It was obvious from his expression that he would rather be somewhere else. He gazed up at Liam unsmilingly, his eyebrows two worried quirks. “Hi, there,” Liam told him.

Jonah didn’t answer.

Louise said, “I should be back in an hour or so. There’s a snack in Jonah’s bag if he gets hungry.” She planted a kiss on top of Jonah’s head and said, “Bye, sweetheart. Be a good boy.”

When the door had slammed shut behind her, there was an uneasy silence.

“So,” Liam said finally. He frowned down at Jonah.

Jonah frowned back at him.

“Where’s your grandmother?” Liam asked.

Jonah said, “Who?”

“Your Grandma Barbara. Is she working?”

Jonah shrugged. It was an artificial-looking shrug-his sharp little shoulders hitching themselves too high and then staying there too long, as if he had not quite perfected the technique.