“Maine? What, you couldn’t find a place in Australia?”
“It’s the best place; of all the places we saw, it’s the best. They can deal with people like Ethan there. It was made for him. He’ll be very happy there. I know him; he’ll love it there.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this now.”
“When exactly would I do this?
“Later, in a few years. And not right after Karen’s wedding. I mean, that’s crazy.”
“She’s not getting married anymore, okay?”
“I can’t believe this. So you’re really on the way there now? This whole trip was really to do this?”
“There’s no point to wait. It won’t get easier with time; nothing is going to get better. He’s not going to improve.”
“He’s gotten better. He’s gotten a lot better. He doesn’t throw up now. You can go to restaurants and shop with him.”
“He almost drowned you in the pool an hour ago. He’s unpredictable.”
She shook her head. “He’s better. You just said, it’s this trip that’s making him bad.”
“I know this is the right decision. If something happens to your mother or me, do you want to watch him, live with him? Do you want to be doing Stinky Bear the rest of your life? Dragging him through hallways? Is Karen going to do it? You both live in New York now—you never see him anymore. You’ve forgotten how it is.”
“I can do it.”
“You know you can’t,” I said softly.
“So, so, some stranger is going to do it? You’re going to leave him with some … some … minimum-wage guy a million miles away? Someone who will beat him up, or … or worse?”
“I thought you’d understand.”
“I understand it’s hard, yeah, but Maine. Now? I don’t know, it’s just—” She stopped. “There has to be another option. Some place closer to Chicago.”
“There are other places, but we could wait ten or twenty years or longer.”
“You can’t do this, Dad. You can’t just leave him. You can’t just … dump him there.”
Those words, dump him, set me off. “Do you think I want to do this, huh? Do you think I’m looking forward to it? No one loves him more than me, no one. But this is the best I can do. It’s a good place. A good place!”
I braced for more protests, more anger, more questions, more guilt, but instead Mindy did something I didn’t expect: she covered her face with her hands and started to quietly cry. My little buddy.
“Oh, baby.” I reached for her, but she brushed my hand away.
“You can’t just leave him, Dad. You can’t.” Then she slid out of her seat and into the back with Ethan.
*
Sal was waiting for us on the expansive porch of the Jefferson Davis Inn. Despite nearing sixty, he remained a powerfully constructed person, with a barrel chest and thick arms that sprouted multiplying tufts of black hair. When he saw us approach, he flicked his cigarette into the bushes with his middle finger, a practiced and efficient move, and extended those beefy arms wide. Standing in white linen pants and a pink polo, smoke pouring through his nostrils, he looked like a vacationing Neanderthal, a Town and Country Caveman.
“Heeeere’s Johnny!” he yelled.
I tried to smile, but I was sure it came off more like a grimace. “Sal.”
Ethan bolted from me, racing up the steps, pencil arms outstretched. “Sal! Sal! Sal!”
His uncle warmly embraced him. “There he is! Ethan! Mr. Big. Hi! It’s nice outside, right? Look at that sun! Hot! Global Warning. Been sweating my ass off out here waiting for you guys.”
“Sal, watch the language. He repeats things,” I said.
Sal looked at me, then back at Ethan, and snapped his fingers. “Sorry. Jesus, right. Hey, Ethan, don’t say nothing you hear from me, okay?”
“Nice. Outside!” Ethan shouted.
“Bet your fucking ass.”
“Sal!”
“He may as well learn from his favorite uncle. Get over here.” Sal opened his arms toward me. I closed my eyes as he hugged me hard.
“You’re looking good, Johnny.”
“Thank you.” He released me. “You look … summery,” I said.
He waved away my comment, took hold of both my shoulders, and looked intensely at me. “Hey, listen, all I want to say is, you’re gonna get through this, okay? It’s like when I had that gallbladder thing, that attack. Remember that thing? Thought that was it. I had the urn picked out. One day at a time, that’s one thing that experience taught me.” He raised a solitary finger. “One day at a time.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“There she is!”
“Hey, Uncle Sal.” Mindy dropped her bag on the porch. She’d been quiet the rest of the trip, and I sensed she was in no mood for Sal, normally a favorite of hers.
“Let me look at her! Little Miss Celebrity and everything! I saw you on the Conan O’Brien Show last month! There you were! I couldn’t believe my eyes. My fucking niece! Come here.”
“Your fucking niece.” Mindy disappeared under another Sal embrace.