Naja Aidt - Rock, Paper, Scissors

Thomas ashes his cigarette in a potted plant. “There’s no point getting so upset. Can you please stay calm?”

“You be calm!” she says sharply, turning toward the twilight and the towering black pine trees outside. “After all, you’re completely paranoid about Alice’s random friends. It actually seems like you can’t let go of her, Thomas.”

She stretches her legs languidly and leans back. “Am I right? You can’t let go of her. But you need to.” Thomas wants to raise his hand and slap her across the cheek; he clenches his fist in his pocket.

“I think what you’re doing now is a massive projection, dear sister.”

“A what?”

“As far as I recall, you called bawling only a short time ago because she’d moved out. Your life was over, you said. Is your life over?”

“You’re so mean, Thomas. So totally mean. You know what? I wish I was an only child.”

“I just wish you weren’t such a child. You act like one. It’s really unbecoming at your age.”

She straightens up and stares angrily at him.

“Here you are, you two!” Helena stands smiling in the doorway, dressed in a loose-fitting linen dress. “Time to eat. Come join us.”

Jenny gets to her feet. As she passes Thomas she hisses, “Mean selfish bastard.” He stubs the ashes from his cigarette in a jar filled with withered chives.

The wonderful aroma of something that has simmered for hours drifts from the kitchen. Herbs, meat, sweet and sour: a thickly condensed scent that instantly relaxes the body, makes it long for food and warmth. And it almost causes Thomas to forget his argument with Jenny; he feels welcomed into the fold, seduced by this fragrance that fills his nose and throat, and he realizes just how hungry he is. When he enters the kitchen, the first thing he sees is Luke and Patricia squatting and talking beside the oven door, which is open. Patricia probes at whatever’s inside the oven with her fork. Then he looks right into Helena’s alert, gentle eyes. He turns his head and sees the long table, now set. And there, at the table, with a glass of red wine in his hand, is Maloney. Maloney, here, in this kitchen. Thomas halts and simply points at him. Maloney waves. “I told you I’d see you soon!” He stands up and approaches Thomas, grinning from ear to ear. “Gotcha, didn’t I?” He taps Thomas on the shoulder. “Jenny invited me. I thought I’d surprise you. We drove up here this afternoon, and I just returned from a quick trip to the neighbor’s. Though quick may not be the right word. There’s a helluva long way between houses up here. They sent me to borrow some coffee.” Jenny leans against Maloney, smiling. “In this house they drink only tea,” she says, “and that’s not good enough for this gentleman.” She beams at him. Now her face seems totally open, and this lazy sensuality seems to pulsate in her supple body. The fabric of her salmon-colored dress shines with the same brightness as her eyes. Maloney wraps his arm around her. “You should’ve seen the man who opened the door at that farm. Hell, it looked as though he hadn’t seen a living person in years. He freaked me out!” Thomas has nothing to say; he simply stares at the two, blinking. Has to back away and lean against the kitchen table. “But Thomas,” Patricia says, “It’s just Maloney.” Then she laughs resoundingly. And Kristin says, “A lot of men we’ve got here now! Usually it’s just you, Thomas. And of course the dog.” Thomas feels everyone’s eyes on him, feels the discomfort, the sweat, his blushing face. A dull rage. Manically he brings bottles, bowls, and baskets of bread to the table. Alice giggles. “He’s completely pale,” Kristin snorts, “give that poor man a glass of wine!”

They take their seats, and Helena brings the bulky iron pot over from the oven. “ Coq au vin !” she says, blowing hair off her face. Patricia carries oven-grilled potatoes and parsnips, and there’s bread, hummus, baba ghanoush, and olives. Kristin ladles up the food. Thomas glances miserably at Patricia; she tugs him down next to her. Across from them sit Maloney and Jenny, Maloney with one hand firmly planted on Jenny’s thigh. Luke sits like a king at the head of the table, as if he had the right. Kristin takes a seat at the other end. The twins pick at their food and are given strict orders to at least try it. Conversation commences. Silverware clinks against the glazed ceramic plates. Luke and Alice have decided to get up early and go fishing on Sunday. But tomorrow they want to go hiking, Alice announces proudly. “You’re not usually a nature lover,” Jenny says. “Quite the opposite. When she lived at home with me she could lie on the couch for days . But apparently that’s changed. Now it seems you can’t get enough fresh air.” Alice pushes her fork through her hummus. “We are actually in nature now, Mom, so why not see what it’s got to offer?” Jenny gives her daughter an arrogant look. Then she seems to change her mind and nods, smiling kindly. Thomas is amazed they don’t begin to argue; everything feels wrong to him. Patricia beams at Luke when he raises his glass and they toast. The coq au vin is as tender and delicious as Thomas had hoped. The meat slides easily from the bones, and the sauce is dark and strong. Still, after a few bites he loses his appetite. Maloney tells them about the break-in, and the more wine he drinks, the more colorful are the details. Thomas doesn’t say a word. Kristin shouts, “Cheers! Welcome all of you!” She gets to her feet. The twins clink glasses and giggle. Kristin takes a deep breath and looks warmly at each of the guests. “Our family has always been too small. So I’m especially happy to see so many at the table tonight. I hope we’ll have a couple of truly wonderful days together. Please make yourselves at home. You are home with us.” Helena smiles at Kristin, who’s clearly moved. “Thank you for the invitation!” Maloney cries out. “My family’s extinct, so I’m happy there’s room for me.” They laugh. Thomas scrutinizes Luke. He eats with careful, regulated movements, scraping the meat from the bones, pushing sauce and meat onto his fork, lifting the fork with a sure hand to his mouth and chewing slowly, mouth closed. His face reveals nothing, no openings. “It’s delicious, Helena,” Patricia says. “What are we having for dessert?” one of the twins mumbles, biting her frayed sleeve. “Rumor has it that Maloney brought us a frozen custard,” Kristin says, smiling at Maloney. “Were you afraid you’d only get carrots and bran crackers up here?”

“A little.” Maloney gives a jolly laugh and pours more wine.

“Be happy you’re not here during the summer when we only eat vegetables, it’s terrible,” one of the twins mutters.

“With dirt still on them,” the other says.

“From the garden?” Patricia asks.

They nod.

“Your self-sufficiency is impressive.”

“There’s no one else to provide for us out here in the sticks,” Kristin says.

“No, but they also taste better. And it’s cheaper. You love our tomatoes, don’t you Maya?” Helena wipes her hands with her napkin.

Maya doesn’t respond. She gnaws at her sleeve.

“Did you know they raised these cockerels themselves?” Patricia asks.

“Oh my God!” Jenny nearly swallows something down the wrong pipe. “How do you have the heart to do it? Cute little chickens, living and breathing. .”

“You bet they were living and breathing, hon. Do you think it’s any better for hens in cages?” Maloney gulps his wine. “Do you hunt, too?”

“Of course,” Kristin says. “I do.”

“You actually have a hunting license? And a gun?”