“So?”
“So, the only time you come see us is when it’s a foregone conclusion. You have to gosomewherefor Christmas.”
“No, we don’t! We don’t even have to celebrate Christmas at all!”
Doug let out one of his wry laughs. When they got to the Range Rover, Carver held the back door open for him so he could put the wine under the seat.
“Thank you,” Doug said stiffly. “What I’m saying is, we don’t see you often enough to have these serious discussions any other time. I don’t like to get into this stuff on the phone. We want to talk to you about your future, we’d like to know what your plans are. We’re both retired, we don’t want to hang around waiting for things that might not happen.”
“What, you want to move to Florida like Scott’s parents? But you literally already have grandkids tying you here, Dad. You have Chip. I’m genuinely confused.”
Doug shut the back door and turned to him. Carver wobbled on the curb, then leaned against the car. “Chip is more reliant on us than you or your sister,” he said. “For childcare, for advice, for work, sometimes a loan. He would follow us, I think, if we moved.”
Carver looked at him, still confused. “So…”
“So — it’s a lot of house your mother and I have.”
“And?”
“And we might not want to stay there forever. But we don’t know where we would move. And you and your sister have been endlessly putting off kids. You both say you want them, but don’t act like you do.”
“I — Dad, it’s a huge question.”
“It’s really not,” Doug said. “You froze embryos, didn’t you? Why? Just to do it?”
“I —” Carver exhaled. “Dad, I…”
“And,” Doug said, leaning in, “when I look at you, Carver, I do not see a man with the desire to lead a family. I see a man who’s happy to let his wife drag him around by the nose, I see a man who’s very vain about his clothes and hair and weight, I seea man who lets his work stress get the better of him more often than not —”
Carver’s eyes and throat grew hot. “You know what — you were totally obsessed with work the first twelve years of my life —”
“I worked hard to provide so that your mother could feel comfortable cutting back her workload to stay home with you all when you were little. But I came home every single night for dinner. I came to your recitals and games. I helped you with your homework. I was —” Doug’s voice broke a little, and he looked around, but the sidewalk was empty. “I wasn’t as on top of things with your older brother. Your mother was alone a lot when he was small. When you were born, I — I did things differently. And you have no appreciation for that, I understand, but that’s part of why I worry that you wouldn’t do the same for your children, because you don’t even see the value in it.”
Now Carver’s eyes were stinging dangerously. He meant to protest, but what slipped out was, “Then maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t have kids. So can we just drop this? Can we just say I’m not having them and drop this?”
Doug stared at him, then heaved a massive sigh and got into the car. Carver took a moment to get a grip on himself before he got in, too.
CHAPTER FIVE
As they rolled into the driveway, concluding a silent ride back, Carver’s attention was pulled to the garage on the right side of the house. The door was open, which was unusual; his parents mostly used the garage for storing skis and golf clubs and only put their cars inside when the weather forecast was bad. Scott was inside, leaning against his beat-up black Chevy van with a weary look, talking to someone who was out of view.
Carver and Doug exited the car and were greeted by Chip, who was standing at the edge of the driveway, drinking from a can of Diet Coke and scrolling on his phone.
“What are you doing out here?” Doug said.
“Avoiding getting roped into work,” Chip said.
Doug chuckled. “Well, you’re out of luck. Go ahead and get that bag of wine out of the backseat for me.”
Chip groaned, and Carver said, “Dad, I’ve got it.” He had already opened the backseat door to grab it, in fact.
“No,” Doug said without looking at him. “It’s fine. Let your brother get it.”
Chip came over, sighing, and nudged Carver out of the way. Carver let him and said, “Then I’m gonna, uh —” and indicated the garage.
Neither of them paid any attention to this. Carver strode away, following the curve of the driveway over to where it branched off into the garage’s separate inlet.
He shouldn’t be scurrying over to Scott, but he almost couldn’t help himself, as if running his tongue over a toothache. He still didn’t want to be alone with him — he wouldn’t have gone over if it hadn’t been clear that there was someone else in the garage — but their conversation at the country club had roused his curiosity. Carver had thought he was alone in his prolonged dwelling about their high school entanglement, but now he knew Scott was still thinking about it too. Even if he just felt guilty for what he’d said the last time they spoke, this was interesting. Why was he still thinking about this shit in 2019? What about Carver could possibly stick to the ribs of a free-spirited drifter with a woman in every port?
