“Ethan, the ground isn’t hot. Come on, let’s eat. Come on. It’s nice inside.”
A man in a dark suit, swinging a briefcase, turned the corner and walked toward us. He paused when he got close, and since he was a normal man in the middle of a normal morning, he asked a normal question.
“Lose something?”
Ethan and I were now both on all fours. “Nope,” I replied.
“Oh.” The man stepped close to the wall and passed.
When he was gone, I tried once again to pull Ethan to his feet. “Okay, let’s go, buddy. Up. Now.”
We took a few more steps, then once again he sank.
“Please, Ethan!”
We essentially crawled to the coffee shop, where the smell of food, bacon in particular, seemed to overpower his compulsion. When we approached the hostess, he finally stood and allowed her to lead us to a table by a window.
“Thank. You!” he said cheerfully when she left. Then he handed me a menu, said, “It’s. Nice. Outside,” very conversationally, and politely reached for his water.
I ignored him. Karen, Mary, Tonto. The day was off to a bad start. I checked my phone, scanned the restaurant for our waitress.
“It’s. Nice. Outside.”
I opened my menu. “Yes,” I said petulantly, “I suppose.”
“Nice! Outside!”
I closed my menu, glared at him. “Okay, fine, okay, it’s nice outside, whatever. It’s perfect. Now, just drink your water and please try to be quiet. I need to think.”
“Why. Mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
Ethan eyed me suspiciously. Anger always fascinated him. Though he frequently misread it, confused it with other emotions, he liked to explore its root cause, which, more often than not, was him. “Why. Mad?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not mad. I’m worried. It’s not your fault. I’m worried about Karen. And your mom is upset with me. Why, I don’t know. Your mom is something else sometimes. She just…”
He searched me with his big brown eyes.
“Listen, I’m not mad at you. I love you.” I reached out and patted him on the top of his hand.
“Shut. Up. Idiot.”
I opened my menu again. “Let’s just eat, okay?”
We had just finished ordering when my phone went off.
“Dad, where are you?”
Mindy. Another problem orbiting my cluttered universe. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Mom says you’re only in Kentucky.”
“Mom says you’re only in New York.”
We didn’t say anything.
“Why are you only in New York?” I asked.
“Why are you only in Kentucky?”
“I’m closer to South Carolina than you are,” I said.
“I don’t know about that, Dad. I just checked Google Maps and, technically, if I stand at the southernmost point of my apartment and lean—”
“Mindy! Just get down there. Things are hard enough.”
There was another silence.
“So how is he?” she asked. “How’s he doing?”
I glanced up. The “he” in question was now absorbed by his nails. “Busy.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s doing a crossword puzzle. Here, talk to him.”
Ethan looked up from his fingers, surprised, and took the phone after I thrust it at him. “Hi!” He listened intently, his eyes narrow in apparent thought. Then he said, “Shut. Up. Idiot,” and handed the phone right back to me.
“Always good catching up with him,” Mindy said.
I took a swallow of coffee, wished it were stronger. “So, what’s going on with your big sister? What’s this about some kind of fight?”
“No idea what’s going on.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
I took another gulp of coffee. “When are you coming down?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?
“I’m trying to figure out my travel.”
“Mindy, please just book a flight! You’re not going to another planet. You’re going to South Carolina.”
“That’s another planet, Dad.”
“They picked this date around your schedule. Do you remember that? They waited until you were off for the summer so you could attend.”
“I never asked them to do that. Besides, she doesn’t even want me there. She’d just be embarrassed if I weren’t there.”
The waitress placed our orange juice down on the table, and Ethan attacked his glass.
“You’re her sister. Her younger sister, and you should be there. And don’t come empty-handed. Make sure to bring something. A wedding gift. Buy something.”
“I hope she’s registered at Newark Airport, because that’s where I’m flying out of.”
“Mindy.” I shook my head and pried Ethan’s juice away from him. It was a huge glass, and he was draining it fast. “You know, I have it hard enough.”
Mindy was quiet. “How’s he been?”
“Yesterday was bad.”
“How bad?” Her voice changed, softened. When it came to Ethan, we usually circled the wagons.
“Bad. He just pulled a Tonto.”
“God, Tonto.”
“I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
“Can’t you get on a flight somewhere?”