Peter had no problem with the directions, but he turned and glared at someone who would. CJ wasn’t listening of course, busy tracing her pointer finger down the window as she gnawed at the plastic top of her travel cup.
Herb took it all in, smiling.
“Did you hear that, CJ?” Peter said, looking for some sort of affirmation.
CJ couldn’t be bothered.
“CJ?” Abby said, stressing each letter as she usually did.
CJ’s stared at the back of her mother’s head. She seemed perfectly content to let her wait.
“Mommy’s talking to you,” Abby added.
“I-I-I-I know-w-w-w,” CJ said, parroting the inflection of her mother’s voice.
Peter’s head dropped, exhausted by his sister’s defiance.
“CJ!” Abby said sternly.
Herb didn’t care if this car ride never ended. He was enjoying every second of it. CJ turned to him as if she was appraising his value, her squinty eyes fixed on his face. Then she turned back to her mother and said, “You talking to me?”
Uncle Herb let his chin fall to his chest, in hopes of hiding the smile that cracked his face.
Abby shot back, “Young lady, I don’t know where you learn these expressions, but I strongly suggest you unlearn them quickly.”
CJ ignored the threat, choosing to stare at Uncle Herb, who looked like he was choking but was really trying to prevent his niece from seeing him bottle his laughter.
“She’s always like this, Uncle Herb,” Peter said.
A string of saliva dropped from Herb’s bottom lip to his lap. CJ bowed her head to get a better look at Herb’s face, so he turned his head toward Peter’s window. When he thought he could keep a straight face, he glanced over at CJ, but she was waiting for him, smiling. His body then bobbed in uncontrollable laughter, falling forward like a puppet dropped from the top of a building. Only the constraints of the seat belts and Peter’s grip kept Herb from falling face first onto the floor of the car.
* * *
At home, the family had barely dropped Uncle Herb’s suitcase, and him into his chair, before Abby jumped back into the car and left. She was late for her first day of work. Peter found himself in the front yard, a willing captive of CJ and her lasso. Uncle Herb sat parked on the driveway, thinking how lucky he was to get a front-row seat for this show.
As Peter let himself be tied, he heard shouting. He looked up and saw an attractive young woman storm out of Josh's house. Josh followed, not looking in a particular rush, and taking his time to look at the sky and his yard.
“Waste away your life if you want to, but I’m not going to be around to see it,” she shouted at the air, but Peter guessed her words were aimed at Josh.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Josh said. He looked over at Peter and CJ, but didn’t acknowledge them.
“Don’t give me your self-righteous crap. You piss away everything, that’s what you do, you and your crazy ideas and beliefs. There is just too much collateral damage with you. You leave it in your wake.”
“I don’t think that is a fair assessment,” Josh calmly replied.
The woman threw her arms up the air. Her pocketbook, which was wrapped around her shoulder, hit her square in the head on the rebound, fanning her anger. “You know what, Josh? Me wasting my life waiting for you to grow up, that’s not fair.”
She opened her car door, sat, and slammed the door shut. She stared at Josh as if she was taking a mental snapshot, and for a second, her anger seemed to turn into something sadder. “I’m sorry,” she said. The engine roared and the tires screeched. The back end of the car fishtailed as she sped away. Counting Dad’s taxi and Mom’s car, Peter noted it was the third car today to speed off down Ranch Street.
Across the street, Mr. Terry had watched the entire scene from his knees in his flowerbed. When the car was out of sight, he shouted, “Girlfriend needs some medication, I believe.”
Josh waved and headed back toward his house. From the ground, Peter craned his neck to watch Josh’s every step. Josh stopped at the stoop in front of his door and looked over their way. “That didn’t go too well,” he said, and flashed the peace sign before disappearing inside.
Day 60
Uncle Herb paid casual attention to the cartoon on television: this big, blue octopus was living in an apartment complex in the city, hanging out and getting into exciting adventures with his buddies—a wiener dog, a penguin, and a talking flower. It was a dated cartoon, considered a “classic” by the cable network, but much newer than the cartoons he had grown up on—and a lot less creative, in his opinion. It was like Friends for the kindergarten set.
It didn’t matter what was on; Herb’s enjoyment stemmed from his proximity to CJ. She sat at his feet, her back leaning against his knees as she ate raisins out of the container.
“Look, Uncle Herb, Oswald always wears a life preserver near the water,” CJ pointed out.
It was in moments like this when Herb wished that speaking wasn’t such a frustrating effort. He wanted to joke with her, tease her, and make her think: why does Oswald need a life preserver? He’s an octopus! But Herb knew by the time he pushed the words into the air, the payout wouldn’t be there, and both CJ and Oswald would be far from the water, flying a kite or eating ice cream. The last thing he wanted was to slow them down.
His first night of vacation at his sister’s home had gone as well as expected. He soaked in CJ and Peter, shared in Abby’s enthusiasm about getting a job, and spent a night of horrible sleep, which was nothing new.
The room Abby had set up for him was comfortable enough. The mattress was firm and didn’t swallow him, and Abby had installed bed rails—probably CJ’s old set—to prevent Herb from rolling off and falling to the floor. The troubling aspect was the small desk and unopened boxes piled high in the corner. The room was evidently intended as a home office for Nick.
Herb had to admit he wasn’t overly upset when he found out Nick was away on business. The comfort quotient rose exponentially. When Nick was around, Herb felt like a visitor. He didn’t know if Nick made him feel this way on purpose, if it just came naturally, or it all was in Herb’s head, but they were brothers by law only.
Herb knew this was partly his fault. He had felt this unsettling ping in his gut since Nick and Abby started dating. Early on, Herb tried to chalk the pings up to Nick being awkward around a person with a disability. Herb experienced it every day. But then there would be a look in Nick’s eye, a discreet facial expression or a conversation where the things left unsaid weighed heavier than the spoken words, and the pings rattled around like pennies in a cookie tin. He wanted to embrace Nick for the person he was, flawed like everyone else, but there was something more, something slippery that prevented Herb from getting to that point.
Herb felt awful about the situation, the strain it put on his sister during his visits, but the pings never disappeared. He hoped the plans for this visit hadn’t caused too much trouble. He also hoped that at some point he could salvage some sort of relationship with his brother-in-law, but right now he hoped Nick’s business trip was a long one. He was getting very selfish in his old age.
Peter entered the living room and plopped down on the couch.
“Mom said she called in my medication prescription this morning. Can I bike into town and go get it, Uncle Herb?”
“I want to go too!” CJ said.
Peter melted into the couch. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because