Standard Deviation

It was Mr. Vargas, wearing a starched white shirt and bow tie. He was beaming and offering a bottle of red wine.

“Please come in,” Graham said, and they were halfway down the hall when they met Matthew coming in the other direction, probably headed to his room for his own supply of origami paper.

Matthew’s eyes got very big when he saw Mr. Vargas. “Do I have to have a piano lesson?”

“No, no,” Graham said soothingly. “Mr. Vargas is just here to have dinner.”

At that moment, the buzzer sounded yet again, and this time the door swung open before Graham even had a chance to move toward it, and a woman’s voice called, “Yoo-hoo!”

A man and woman entered. It was Dr. Moley, Matthew’s pediatrician, and his wife, Dinah. When Matthew saw Dr. Moley, his eyes got even bigger and he clutched Graham’s sleeve. “Do I have to have a shot?”

God, they were traumatizing him. The whole dinner was probably going to traumatize Graham, too.

“No, Matthew,” he said. “You go on back with everyone else.” And he turned to greet the Moleys.

Audra had always said that she could never make up her mind about whether Dr. Moley was a genius or belonged in a special home somewhere. But what Dr. Moley seemed like to Graham was an aging alcoholic. His eyes were bloodshot and he listed slightly as he walked. The faint smell of bourbon seemed to cling to his big gray walrus mustache.

Dinah Moley was a small spry blond woman with black shoe-button eyes. “I hope we’re not going to eat too late,” she said to Audra when they were all in the living room, “because we’re flying to Florence tomorrow.” Then she looked at Graham and said, “Vincent needs a drink.”

She said this in such a way that it caused Graham to think Vincent was either a very small dog she carried in her purse or an imaginary friend of some sort. He was about to ask cagily whether Vincent liked water or milk when he realized from the expectant way Dr. Moley was looking at him that she was referring to her husband.

“Certainly,” said Graham. “Bourbon on the rocks?”

“That’d be great,” Dr. Moley said, not seeming to wonder how Graham knew.

Graham stepped into the kitchen for ice cubes, and Matthew came up nervously behind him. “Who else is coming?”

“Just friends of Mom’s and mine,” Graham said.

“Not Dr. Alpen?” That was the dentist.

“No.”

“Would you tell me if he was?”

“Yes, of course.”

Matthew looked unconvinced but left the kitchen without further argument. Graham followed him with the ice bucket, figuring that otherwise he’d be making a lot of trips to the kitchen for Dr. Moley.

When Elspeth arrived, Graham was so happy to see someone normal, he nearly cut a caper right there at the door. Instead he said, “Welcome!” in a booming voice unlike his own.

How strange to see Elspeth here in their apartment—a single snowflake from a massive blizzard writ large once again. She carried her coat over her arm and wore a slim black skirt and plain white blouse. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Her skin was as firm and cool as the skin of a chilled apple.

“Graham,” she said, smiling a little.

Before Graham could close the door, the elevator chimed again, and this time it was Lorelei and Doug. Graham sent them all down the hall into the living room.

Bong! went the elevator again. He turned back toward the door, and this time it was Bitsy.

“Graham, hello!” she said in her soft voice.

Graham blinked. “Bitsy, how nice to see you,” he said, holding the door open for her.

“It’s nice to be here,” Bitsy replied, but Graham wondered: was it nice for her to be back here, the scene of such unhappiness, the very square footage where she’d realized her marriage had come to an end?

He led Bitsy down the hall to the living room, where Doug was saying, “Origami!” in the sort of falsely excited voice people use when they talk about visiting a museum. “What are we making?”

“We’re not making anything,” Alan said. “We’re folding the Roosevelt Elk.”

Doug was not offended. “Well, let me pull up a chair here and see what I can do to help.”

Everyone huddled around the coffee table, reaching casually for Manny’s stack of lokta origami paper, which Graham knew Manny had special-ordered from Nepal.

Audra paused beside Graham and whispered, “I’m so embarrassed that everyone thinks we’ve planned origami as entertainment!”

Matthew looked wildly relieved to see Bitsy—undoubtedly he was thinking, One for my team!—and Bitsy ruffled Matthew’s hair as she sat down next to him.

Graham took everyone’s drink orders and headed to the corner of the room where he’d set up the bar.

“Everyone, this is Elspeth,” Audra said. Graham hoped that Audra wouldn’t feel it necessary to say that Elspeth was his ex-wife, but she probably would. She believed, he knew, that you had to give people a little bit of information as a conversation starter when you introduced them. Graham didn’t disagree with this policy, it was just that Audra always chose information he’d rather she not share.

And sure enough, Audra said, “Elspeth and Graham were married for eight years, and then separated for—”

Graham turned to the table in the corner where he’d set out the wine and opened the first bottle. It was tempting to drink straight from it.

Behind him, Audra continued introducing people and tossing out conversation starters. “Clayton, this is Dr. Moley,” she said. “Dr. Moley once removed a piece of Lego from Matthew’s ear. Doug, this is Alan. He’s allergic to beets. Dinah, this is Bitsy. She has very clean fingernails. Pearl, this is Mr. Vargas. He’s just been through a difficult breakup.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mr. Vargas said. “Have you ever been to Whole Foods?”

Clayton said aggressively, “I think we should have an advanced table and a beginners’ table.”

Dinah Moley said to Bitsy, “I hope we eat soon because Vincent and I are flying to Florence tomorrow.”

Who were these people? What was Graham doing here? Where was his life, the one he was meant to be living? He sighed. Maybe if he turned up the oven they could eat sooner and everyone would go home. He sighed again and began pouring wine.



Elspeth bustled into the kitchen. She opened a drawer and shook out a fresh dish towel, which she tucked into the waistband of her skirt.

“You don’t have to be in here,” Graham protested. “You should go out to the living room and have a drink with the others.”

Elspeth gave him a sardonic smile. “I’d rather stay in here,” she said. “And it looks like you could use the help.”

Graham couldn’t argue with that. “Okay.”

Elspeth opened the oven and looked at the turkey with narrowed eyes. Then she turned back to him and said, “Do you mind if I make the cranberry relish? I have a certain way I like to do it.”

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