“Well, it’s not ideal,” Nora said. “But Letty’s a lovely girl, a lot of men were interested, it’s not like she was going begging. And it’s not like she had adverse experiences with men. She wasn’t scared off them, or anything.”
“Jesus, Mom.”
“I’m just saying, I think, you know — this really is just how she wants things, so, I’m happy to leave it there. Things are different now than they were a decade ago. I mean, it’s the law of the land now, and I’m an officer of the court, I respect that. I’ll admit to being initially shocked, but it’s been four years of this and the sky hasn’t come down. No one is marrying their dog.”
Carver cleared his throat and drank some coffee, then moved over to the breakfast bar and sat diagonally across from her. Nora peered at him over her reading glasses.
“And she’s notmydaughter,” she added.
His heart palpitated. “Right.”
“I know she’s making life more difficult for herself, but what can you do? She was always tough, and headstrong, so I guess she can handle it.” Nora was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how they plan to have children.”
“Buy sperm,” Carver said.
She winced. “That’s just so clinical. I don’t even like that you two froze embryos… Dozens of grandchildren trapped in a freezer.”
“I know you don’t think those are your grandchildren.”
“Of course not, but if you defrost one and use it, itbecomesmy grandchild, and I worry I’ll always think of it as freezer-burned.”
Carver drank more coffee. “I’ll come with you to the club, sure,” he said. He needed something to do.
“Good,” Nora said, smiling. “You seem more chipper this morning.”
“I guess,” said Carver, knowing it was because he had just taken a stimulant.
She opened theTimesto a middle page and shook out the wrinkles. “Your father’s coming too, and your friend Scott.”
Carver’s stimulated mind slammed into a brick wall. “Scott?”
“Yes, he’ll be playing live music, he needs to bring them all his things and do a sound check.” She chuckled. “He drives that stuff around in this terrible van. It’s comically old, I’m impressed it still runs. He drove it here from New Jersey — did you know he’s in Jersey now? Only about thirty minutes from you, I think. I told him I’m surprised you two haven’t gotten together since high school, but he said you’re both just so busy.”
Carver, dry-mouthed, said nothing.
“He’s a nice boy,” Nora said.
“Is he?” Carver said. “If he were your son, would you say that?”
“No, if he were my son I would tell him to get a haircut and a real job and pay his back taxes, but he’s someone else’s responsibility, thank God,” she laughed. “Though his parents weren’t exactly hands-on, as I’m sure you remember. I’m not surprised he didn’t end up going to college.”
Carver gave her a gesture in between a shrug and a nod.
“Apparently he barely sees them these days.” Nora set her paper down and turned to her right, in the direction of the dining room, looking through the windows there which peered out over the pool and poolhouse. “You know, I think his heart’s in the right place. A good woman might do him a lot of good. When I asked if he’s seeing anyone, he implied to me that he’s had mostly flings, nothing serious. He’s good-looking, and he spends a lot of time on the road, so it makes sense, but I don’t know if that’s ever made anyone actually happy.”
Carver finished his coffee and got to his feet. “I’m gonna go ask Lillian if she wants to come with us,” he said.
“Good,” Nora said.
While Scott drove separately in his terrible van, the Novacks made their way to the club in Doug’s beloved black Range Rover. Carver stared out the window for the duration of the very familiar drive, in order to reap the benefits of his mother’s unceasing patter on what had changed in the six months since they’d been here for Christmas.
“We’re thinking about selling Merriweather and leaving the yacht club, actually,” Nora said as they drove by it. Carver scanned for interesting watercraft in the marina, but the same old sailboats and yachts bobbed on the water. “We hardly ever take her out anymore, and they did this hideous revision to the clubhouse. Carver, I tell you, these people have completely lost their minds. They never should have made Gary Dodd commodore. I wish your father had taken another run at it.”
“I served my time,” Doug said, slowing the car to a stop and peering over his left shoulder as they came to a yield sign at the lip of a wooded area.
“And you were excellent at it.”
“I don’t think our friends agreed,” Doug said. “I got the finances under control, but I never got any credit for that. They just wanted to win regattas and drink.”
