“Don’thello, Jackieme. I want to know why you’re here. And Jen, did you know about this? Did you two come together?”
So much for our romantic reunion. I shrugged and said Mary had shown up to the apartment and offered to come get him, and everyone had agreed maybe it was a good idea…
“Well, it wasn’t. It was anything but. So Mom, you can leave. Jen and I will take an Uber back.”
Unsurprised, weary, Mary sighed and asked, “Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”
“Now?!” Jack growled. “You want to talk now? Twenty-two years have passed, and you still haven’t figured this out? Hell no, I don’t want to talk. Go home. I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“I’m not going home, Jack,” Mary said. “I’m not moving until you talk to me. I’m not asking for much. I just want the three of us to go to lunch. You guys pick a place. I’m sure you’re both hungry, it’s almost lunchtime.”
To our surprise, Jack shook his head and got into her back seat. We tried to ask a few questions, but he said he wasn’t in the mood to talk. I devoted my time to scouring the internet for a half-decent place to eat and then reading the directions out to Mary.
We wound up at a cozy spot that looked like a place from the sixties, with puffy red vinyl on the chairs and booths, tables with plastic tablecloths, a black-and-white checked floor. I had read online that it was“quaint” but also that the food was delicious. I could smell meat roasting on the grill. Mary looked like she’d never set foot in someplace so vulgar. I think Jack found that amusing.
He sat next to me with his mother facing us, and we stared out the window at an indoor playground across the street where a bunch of kids were jumping in and out of a ball pit. A waitress came over and dropped off some menus, and I studied mine intently.
“Anything special you guys are in the mood for?” Mary asked, trying to sound normal.
Jack didn’t answer. I responded, “Ooh, a barbecue burger. Jack’s going to love that.”
“I’moffdrugs now, remember. A person would have to be high to eat one of those,” he said.
He must have been the only person in the world who could come out of rehab and joke about being high just a few minutes later. He was grinning as he scrutinized the menu. He wound up ordering chicken fingers, loaded fries, and onion rings. I asked, “Do you honestly think you can eat all of that?”
“It’s the men in this family,” his mother answered for him. “They’re all bottomless pits.”
It was true. I remembered a time when Jack took me out, ate three burgers in a row, and then finished off with dessert. Since Mary and I just ordered burgers, we had to sit there watching him devour his appetizers when they came. I found it entertaining. Jack started to get self-conscious. Mary was too nervous to talk. She was biting her upper lip, and after a few minutes, she finally asked, “Is it good? Because if not, you know, you can always get something else. Or if it’s not enough. Either way, it’s your day is what I’m trying to say, and…”
Jack hissed, “Why don’t you just say what you’ve got to say? That way we can finally get it out in the open.”
She froze briefly, then cleared her throat and informed him, “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”
Jack stopped chewing and looked up. He was so still, I had to peer close to make sure he was still breathing.
Time to go, I thought. I excused myself, said my phone was buzzing, and walked out. As I pretended to respond to a text, I tried to peek through the window and see if they were talking, and since they appeared to be, I sat on a bench by the front door, thinking it was best to give them some time.
Only when I worried things might be getting awkward did I go back. There was still an awkward silence, but it wasn’t as tense as it had been. Mary was fixating on her burger, which she kept repeating was delicious. That was weird, but it was still better than before I’d left. Trying to make her feel better, I said, “Yeah, we hit a home run with this place.”
Jack grinned. I could tell he thought it was funny, his mother writhing while I struggled to salvage the situation. “Who was texting you?” he asked.
“It was the clinic. They said you took some extra attitude with you, and they need it back.”
Jack laughed hard enough to nearly spit out his food. Even Mary, usually so prim and proper, found it funny. Things weren’t perfect—whatever the divorce meant for Jack and Mary, I couldn’t even begin to grasp yet—but I was glad, at least, I’d be riding back home with two people and not two stiff statues.
15
Brothers versus Friends
“You know when you’re watching a horror movie and the main character turns down the hallway, and you’re likedon’t do itbecause you know it’s suicide, but then he does do it, and you think,What a dumbass? Because that’s kind of where I’m at now.”
Jack’s words, of course, coming from the back seat, as he stretched out and adjusted his dark sunglasses. He was grumpy. He had been ever since he’d returned home.
He was complaining because he didn’t know where we were taking him. That was my plan, and I’d decided it was best to keep it a secret. The idea had come to me after a conversation with Will the afternoon before. He had been reading all these webpages with recommendations about how we should treat Jack once he was home. Jack had gotten cranky and said he wasn’t a vacuum cleaner and didn’t need an instruction manual, but Will didn’t care, and he’d printed up a list. One of the things everyone agreed on was that people coming out of rehab should try to get exercise. And what better exercise was there than basketball, the sport Jack used to love?
Jack, Will, Mike, and I were in the car. I admit I was intimidated at being the odd girl out, but I was pretty sure I could hold my own with them, and if it made Jack happy, it was worth it.
“I’m assuming I’m the killer in this scenario?” I asked him.
