Jane Smiley - Golden Age

When he was in New York, Richie went to Loretta’s dinners, which had transformed from family to society after Chance, Tia, and Binky made their escapes (the walls of their place were now plastered with pictures of Chance on his horses or astraddle the haunches of a terrified calf). The mix was financial, mostly — bankers, hedge-fund managers, stockbrokers, and their wives. They gave equally to both parties, were in general agreement that “strong measures” were necessary. (Even if that included leading a boy at Abu Ghraib around on a leash as if he were a dog? Rumors abounded in the halls of Congress, but it seemed that no one else had noticed the press coverage, and Richie was the last person who would say anything.) He was not the only politician, but he was the only one who looked exactly like the host, and whom the hostess came up to every time she thought of it and linked arms with. She made him feel like a beloved pet, and every time he voted with the administration, he felt himself inwardly licking her hand and asking for a treat. She took personal credit for “converting” him. Former Monsignor Kelly, who was now a bishop and head of a diocese in Minnesota, an outpost if ever there was one, was present in spirit, if not in person, she said, since she still sent a lot of money to his favorite charities, and also flew him in from Duluth whenever she could.

To go from the letter on his desk to dinner at Michael and Loretta’s felt, to Richie, like swimming in molasses. He wasn’t drowning fast enough; in fact, everyone told him he looked better than ever and seemed “to be coming into his own.” Even Leo, now fourteen, was more respectful. Loretta had gotten him into Dalton; he enjoyed it, and Ivy was not complaining. Younger members of the House gazed at him respectfully, perhaps the very way he had once gazed at Congressman Scheuer.

—

THERE WAS a car parked in the driveway, which Henry didn’t mind — he’d just awakened from a nap and wasn’t going anywhere. It was cold and damp, and he was tired. He’d finished his translation of the Táin Bó Cúailnge , and was trying to decide whether there were any plausible connections between Cuchulainn’s transformation into a monster and Grendel or his mother. Monsters were an interesting study. There were plenty of them in Indo-European literature, and he was inclined to think of them as being a remnant of the indigenous peoples that the Indo-Europeans had overcome on their journeys west. Henry yawned. A woman came out of the front door and headed to the car. She got in and drove away. Henry looked at his watch. It was five-thirty-four. Riley would be cooking (she was strict about giving Alexis wholesome food). Henry thought he might sneak downstairs and hang around for an invitation.

He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a nice blue cheese that he’d picked up, and, yes, there was an unopened box of water crackers in the pantry. Riley was a sucker for blue cheese, and Alexis did love crackers. Thus he bribed his way into Riley’s kitchen.

Riley was putting an onion quiche into the oven, and Alexis was sitting in her usual spot, a small chair that hooked onto the table. She was patting her hands on her red placemat and saying, “Go go go go.” She was eighteen months old, which meant that Charlie had been dead for two years and two months. Alexis was like a small clock to Henry, measuring the period of his loss. He and Riley never talked about this. He set the cheese on the table and opened the box of crackers. He said, “May Lexie have a cracker?” Alexis said, “Yes!” Riley laughed, and said, “She’s good at giving herself permission to do whatever she wants.”

“I’ve never seen her want anything you wouldn’t want her to have.”

“That’s her genius,” said Riley.

“Who was here?” Henry sat down in his usual spot, put his hands on his cheeks, pulled them out, and crossed his eyes. Alexis stuck out her tongue. They both laughed. It was possible that, before Alexis, Henry had never played with a child. It was rather fun.

Riley said, “Bunny Greenhouse.”

Henry said, “Did you make that name up? It’s perfect for a friend of yours. Animals and global warming, all at once.”

“No, I didn’t, and I only hope she becomes my friend. I’m wooing her, or maybe she’s wooing me. She has the goods on Halliburton.”

“Who’s that?”

Riley spun around. She said, “Please go back upstairs and do your homework, Professor Langdon.”

Instead, Henry unwrapped the blue cheese and set it on one of the plates that were stacked in the middle of the table, then lined some crackers up beside it. It was cold, but it was fragrant. That worked. Riley took a knife out of the drawer, cut herself a sliver, and laid it on a cracker. She ate it and said, “That’s a nice one.”

“It’s a Stilton. I buy it in honor of the Mercians.” But she didn’t rise to the bait, so he held out his fingertip, with a tiny fragment of cheese on it. Alexis took it and put it in her mouth. Then she made a perplexed face that caused him to laugh.

“Bunny is in procurement for the Army Corps of Engineers. She knows what everyone is charging the taxpayers for gas in Iraq. Halliburton, which Cheney used to run, is charging two sixty-something per gallon. Everyone else, including the Kuwaitis, is charging around a dollar a gallon. The Halliburton contract was a no-bid contract — the DOD just rubber-stamped it because it had ‘Cheney’s Bank Account’ scribbled across it. I think it’s called extortion? Or maybe just fraud? Corruption? Like that. I want the congressman to do something about it.”

Then they exchanged a look that said, Oh, right. We’re talking about Richie here.

Henry said, “There’s always hope.”

Riley said, “I used to think that because I wanted to. Now I think it because I have to.” She leaned over and kissed Alexis on the top of her head. Henry said, “Has Michael captured him?”

“You tell me. I think he’s been obsessed with Michael since he was born. I wonder if that’s always true of younger twins.”

Henry said, “Richie is older. By something like four minutes.”

“Well, I wish he’d remember that. Anyway, Bunny is moving with all deliberate speed. Her younger brother is Elvin Hayes.”

“He was good,” said Henry. “He had a great jump shot.”

“She can handle herself.”

Now she opened the oven door and peeped in. From where he was sitting, Henry could see the top of the quiche, brown and crinkly. He got suddenly hungry. He said, “I can set a table very nicely.”

“Oh,” said Riley, “you are so like Charlie at worming your way into my affections.”

Henry said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

JANET WAS FEELING kind of empty and cold, the way you did in California when the air was damp, the sky was overcast, the holidays were over, and your beloved eleven-year-old had turned twelve and begun to disdain (well, maybe ignore) you, and even though you knew it was essential for his development into manhood that he do so, it still hurt. So, when the phone rang and it was Emily on the other end saying, “Mom! I’m in Pasadena! You have to come!” she called Jared and said she was going to meet Emily in L.A. that evening, spur of the moment, and would he pick up Jonah, and she would be back the next evening, or they could join them…

Jared was no fool. He knew that any invitation from Emily was a big deal, so he said, “Of course,” and she got in the Audi, leaving Jared and Jonah the van, and left, though not without swinging by the barn and taking pictures of both Pesky and Sunlight for Fiona — she was sure that Emily must be staying with Fiona.