The Constellations

When Roy got home

WHEn roy goT HomE from work he saw Eric in the garden. Grub staggered nearby amidst the hung linen, swatting at it until it knocked her down then struggling to her feet to try again. Roy scooped her up for a kiss and called a hello to Eric. Eric waved without looking up and bent to examine the first green tomatoes on their vines. Deb sat at the kitchen table, working the crossword in one of the Chicago papers. Despite having two fans on her she looked sweaty and miserable. Roy thought back to Jean carrying Grub. Just two summers ago. “I made lemonade,” Deb murmured. He nodded. “They accepted him, Roy.” “That was fast,” he said. “It didn’t seem that way to me.” “I haven’t been able to really think about it,” Roy said. “There isn’t much time.” She spoke softly, but Roy felt her intense stare as he poured lemonade.“By now you must be leaning one way or the other. If the school doesn’t hear from us by the end of the week, Eric’s spot will go to another child. We’re only getting this long to decide because I’m connected.” Deb paused to allow an answer, but Roy remained quiet. “You said he liked Akhmatova,” she continued. “Jean was happy with his progress there.” “The money,” Roy said. “Half of it will be paid for.” “I thought those scholarships were for poor kids.” “You pump your own drinking water. You’re poor.” Deb took a deep breath. A few words in and she already missed Fergus’s moderating influence.“What would Jean have wanted?” Kevin Cunningham 157 “Doesn’t matter. We can’t ask her and there’s no way of knowing . Look, Eric’s happy here. The girls want him here.” “He’ll be around,” Deb said, her voice rising.“Most weekends, during breaks, and over the summer. Emma’s situation with David is very similar, except you’d get Eric the entire summer. People do this, Roy.” He lit another cigarette, flung the spent match at the ashtray. It missed. A tiny black halo opened on the wicker place mat beneath its head. “You know,” he said sharply, “Cammy needs a special school, too.” Deb reached and lifted the spent match off the wicker.“Let me give birth to my child,” she said,“and then I’ll start taking care of yours. Never mind that my work may be a waste of time—” “I didn’t ask you to do anything,” Roy said.“You’re just taking control again.” “You would have never started. You never start. Anything. You survive, Roy. You endlessly survive. Nothing else. You’re a givea -shit about yourself and you’re teaching the same thing to your kids.” Deb stopped herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind Fergus told her to retreat, but his voice was far away, behind many doors angrily slammed shut. Roy mistook the pause for an opening.“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. She slammed her hands against the table.The ashtray,the wicker place mat, Roy—all jumped in unison.“It should’ve been you,” she exclaimed.“Somehow you survive everything. Every lapse in judgment . Every ugly little incident. Do you think if the positions were reversed Jean would not find a way? Do you really think that?” “She made her choices,” Roy said. “She didn’t choose,” Deb cried. “Choice didn’t lead to her out to this barn you live in. It was because this was the best you could do, and she loved you and she couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you by asking for what she deserved. Jean was passing you by, Roy.Why do you think she quit so close to the end? Every day she 158 The Constellations sat in her classes absorbed in things totally unconnected to you. That life meant something to her, while at the same time it had less and less to do with you.” He motioned to the room.“I guess this life didn’t mean anything.” “She couldn’t have both and she couldn’t admit to herself that she regretted the decisions she’d made. She made a choice, all right. To maintain. To put her strength and passion into enduring misfortune instead of avoiding it. Don’t you dare say another word, unless it...