and found a container of leftover spaghetti with meatballs that he proceeded to eat cold.
Eyeing him, Shawn said, “I’m hungry.”
“What about Velveeta,” Deborah said with a quick look at Greg. He was responsible for enforcing Shelly’s food laws when she wasn’t in the room. Deborah had given up trying to make sense of Shelly’s rules, which were arbitrary, capricious, and nonnegotiable. Greg shrugged his approval, so Deborah opened the package of Velveeta and handed Shawn a slice. He wandered into the living room, engrossed in pulling off pieces and dropping them in his mouth like a baby bird. He wasn’t allowed to watch television, and Deborah hoped he’d find a way to amuse himself without getting into trouble.
She filled the sink with soapy water, tucking in the dirty bowls and utensils before she took a seat at the table. She knew Greg didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart talk, but she had him cornered and he seemed resigned.
“I’ve been thinking about Shelly and I realized I didn’t know anything about her family. Where’s she from?”
“Los Angeles. Tustin or Irvine, I forget which,” he said. “Her family disowned her when she was fifteen and got pregnant with Shawn.”
“That’s too bad. It must be hard for her.”
“Nah. They didn’t get along anyway, so it was no big deal. She says they’re a bunch of pigs with their heads up their butts.”
“I see.” She hesitated and then plunged on. “I’m not sure this is the time to bring it up, but your father and I are curious about your plans. I wondered if you wanted to discuss the situation.”
“Not particularly. Plans for what?”
“We assumed you’d be looking for a job.”
She heard Shawn giggling and she looked over to see him round the corner from the living room, stark naked. He dashed into the kitchen with a certain brash confidence, whooping and leaping to claim their attention. Deborah looked over at him coolly as he shook his bottom at them and galloped away. She could hear his bare feet slapping down the hall as he ran around the house, circling through the living room, dining room, kitchen, the front hall, and back through the living room. Clearly, Greg had learned to block out the child’s shrieking, which Shelly, of course, encouraged as freedom of expression.
“A job doing what?”
“You have a family to support. At the bare minimum, you have to have income and a decent place to live.”
“What’s wrong with the bus? We’re doing fine. Unless you begrudge us the parking space.”
“Of course we don’t begrudge you the parking space. Don’t be ridiculous. All I’m saying is that once the baby’s here, you can’t go on living like vagabonds.”
“Shelly doesn’t want to be tied down. She likes being on the road. Lots of our friends do the same thing and it’s groovy. You gotta go with the flow.”
“What will you do for money? Babies are expensive. Surely, I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Mom, would you just cool it with this stuff? I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t need your advice. We’ll take care of it, okay?”
Deborah let that one roll off her back and tried again. “Could you at least give us an idea how long you plan to stay?”
“Why? You want us out of here?”
Shawn tiptoed into the room, like a cartoon character, with exaggerated steps. Deborah watched him creep up on Greg with his hands out in front of him like claws. He let out a fake roar and gave Greg a swipe. Greg growled and grabbed at him. Shawn screamed with laughter as he galloped toward the dining room. “You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me. Nah, nah, nah.” He stopped and made a face, fingers wiggling at his ears. Off he went again. Deborah absolutely could not stand the child.
She said, “Why are you being so argumentative? That’s not like you. I’m trying to get a sense of your intentions if it’s not too much to ask.”
“Who says I have to have intentions?”
“Fine. You have no
Stefan Zweig, Anthea Bell