Anna laughed at that. “They will become tax attorneys when they find out what the billable fees are. But why do you like it?”
“It’s complex but at the end of the day it’s really simple. It’s mostly just math, except in the case of fraud. The IRS makes the rules and prosecutes if they’re broken but their rules are poorly written and ambiguous. It’s like mystery multiple choice and one has to figure out what they meant. There are taxes, fees and percentages. It becomes complicated with interest and penalties, which are often discretionary. No one really goes to jail. Well, sometimes, if there’s fraud, premeditated fraud. But it’s soft time.”
Anna was momentarily taken aback. “Soft time?”
“Easy incarceration. White-collar incarceration. Color TV, state-of-the-art gym, internet, catered meals...” She lifted one of her sushi bites to her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. “Conjugal visits.”
Anna laughed. “And what more could a felon want?”
Then Bess rattled off several paragraphs of tax code from memory, most of it involving rather obscure situations like property tax on a chicken coop in one state, sales tax on deodorant in another, “Because antiperspirant is considered an over-the-counter drug.” She went from real-estate taxes to capital gains deductions, pausing only for a bite of sushi.
“That memory,” Anna said. “Remarkable.”
“You have a great memory,” Bess said.
“Nothing to yours!”
“I think my memory would be more fun if it wasn’t directly tied to the fact that I’m so weird.”
“I wouldn’t call you weird,” Anna said. “You like things a...” She paused a moment. “A certain way. That’s all.”
“I certainly do. And not many people understand. Martin seems to. I’m not sure why.”
“Martin again.”
“Martin kind of likes tax law and is willing to drill me on it. But his first love is cybersecurity and identity theft, that sort of thing. Because it’s a little harder to untangle. He’s like me in that way. The bigger the challenge, the more he likes it.”
Anna swallowed. “I think you’ve mentioned Martin before but I can’t remember in what context.”
“I study with him,” she said. “He’s a hopeless nerd, like me. He’s just a smart nerd, not on the spectrum. But his memory is even better, if you can imagine.”
“Hard to,” Anna said.
“And I sleep with him,” she said.
Anna nearly choked. “You do?” she asked weakly. Bess just nodded and continued to work away at her sushi. “Are you in love with him?”
“I don’t know. Probably. But we have a lot in common and spend a lot of time together. He’s a great study partner. He pushes me. I do like him a lot. Of course.”
Of course, Anna thought. If Martin was like Bess—brilliant, gifted, almost a photographic memory, low on emotions, high on autonomy—they could marry and produce a flock of adorable robots.
She wanted to scoop Bess up in her arms and cradle her, like a defenseless child. Bess, who could solve major legal and computer problems but didn’t know if she loved someone. Beautiful Bess, who didn’t bother with makeup but didn’t even realize she didn’t need it.
“Do you think law school was the right choice?” Anna asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But there are other things, too. I’m drawn to science and research and computers. I just have to go to school forever, I guess.” Then she smiled brightly.
“No, not exactly,” Anna said, also smiling. “Eventually you have to go to work!”
“I look forward to that,” she said. “But work worries me. There are times I get a little bored.”
“Well, that’s always been a problem. So, tell me more about Martin. Is he...kind?”
“He is,” she said with a smile. “He helps a lot of people. And not just with law school. He has a five-year-old brother who is special needs and he helps him and his classmates. He’s a good person.”
It flashed across Anna’s mind that that explained a lot—Bess was never labeled special needs or autistic or disabled or anything, but there was no question she was not the average twenty-four-year-old. “He must be sensitive to your needs,” Anna suggested.
“I guess so,” she said.
“What does he look like?” Anna asked.
“Well, let me think about that,” Bess said. “He’s six feet tall and has dark hair and dark eyes and big feet. But he’s actually good at some sports while I’m only good at chess, bridge and dominoes. He’s not clumsy like I am. He’s steady. He plays football in the park on weekends. Just a friendly game, he says. But he also likes chess.”
“Do you have a picture?”
“Yes,” Bess said, grabbing her phone out of her purse and clicking it open to display a picture of a young man in sweats and a tee, holding a basketball against his hip. And of course Bess hadn’t volunteered a picture until she was asked.
He was beautiful. Stunningly, John Kennedy Jr. beautiful. “Bess, he’s so attractive.”
“Is he? I suppose he is. I’ve never been a good judge of physical beauty.”
Anna folded her hands on the table. “What does Martin like best about you?”
“I only know what he says...”
“What has he said?” Anna asked.
“Well, he likes that I’m honest, but I don’t know how not to be. He said he admires my focus, but I think that’s another thing I can’t help. If something takes root in my head, I can’t shake it loose. And he likes the way I taste.”
Anna felt a flush creep up her neck. “You don’t have to tell that. That can be private.”
“Okay. Is your sushi okay?” she asked, nodding at Anna’s plates.
“I ordered too much, as usual. Are you happy?”
“Of course,” Bess said. “I had my usual meal and, as a bonus, I could talk to you.”
That was how Bess structured emotional responses—did they fit into her routine, was it uneventful and was there no anxiety related to uncertainty or change. But Anna just said, “That’s very nice, thank you.”
Being the parent of an adult child like Bess took diligence. Anna had to constantly remember that Bess’s idea of pure joy didn’t bear any resemblance to her own. To Bess, never being spontaneous was joyful. If she could manage her world by wearing the white blouse every Monday and the black blouse every Friday, by eating at the sushi bar every Saturday at four, ordering the same meal, that was joy. She liked the challenge of her studies; conquering them made her feel strong. And when things were off and uncertain, she became very anxious until she could wrestle her routine back into order.
Bess had lived in a group home for a year during college; getting her there had been one of the biggest arguments Chad and Anna ever had. Anna didn’t want her to go away, didn’t want her to live away from her. In that, Chad had been right; he had been wise. Bess had learned to function in a world that couldn’t accept her peculiarities. Would she ever have a normal life? Not Anna’s kind of normal. Not ever. But she could have a comfortable life, a successful life. She could be her own kind of happy. Anna struggled to remember that.
For what felt like the millionth time, Anna was reminded that accepting people as they are is the hardest work there is.
“Tell me something, Bess. What’s the very best thing about Martin?”
She didn’t hesitate or pause to consider. “He has never once suggested there are things about myself I should change.”
Anna smiled. “That is truly a rare thing in a man.”
NINE
On Sunday, Anna received a call from Amy. “I know you’re very busy but I have something to tell you. Something I believe you want to know, though you haven’t brought it up.”
“What’s that, Amy?” Anna asked.
“Can we meet, or is your day too wildly busy?”
She sighed. She had groceries and dry cleaning to pick up. Michael planned to stop by later, by which she assumed dinnertime. Jessie had left a message for her to call and she had planned on changing the sheets and doing some laundry. “I have a little time. Would you like to meet?”
“That would be ideal,” Amy said. “Nikit isn’t on call today and he offered to keep Gina. And frankly, I could use a little time away from the baby. I’ll come closer to you if you can think of a place.”
Anna’s first thought was to be disappointed the baby wasn’t going to be included, but she kept that to herself. She reminded herself that Amy and the baby weren’t really a part of her life, but rather Chad’s. And Chad was gone. “There’s a little Mediterranean grill in Mill Valley. They’re always busy but they have some nice booths in the bar. I’ll call and see if I can reserve one.”
“Perfect!” she said. Then she asked for directions and promised to meet her in an hour.