Say When (15 page)

“Don’t you need pajamas?” he asked.

“Oh! Yes.” She got up and took a pair from the drawer, added them to the suitcase. Then she sat down again, her hands folded in her lap, staring straight ahead. She cried quietly, steadily, occasionally reaching up to wipe the tears from her face.

Griffin sighed. “You need your toothbrush, Ellen, and you need…I don’t know, don’t you need your hair things? Your brush and barrettes, and those things you use for ponytails, for when you wear a ponytail? And you need your makeup, sometimes you like to wear makeup.” And then he was crying, and she was holding on to him saying over and over that she was sorry, she was so sorry. He stroked her hair, spoke softly. “It’s okay, Ellen. We’ll work everything out. Don’t cry.” But she did not stop, nor did he, for a long time.

Finally, he got up and crossed the room, leaned against the dresser and asked her if she would like to talk about how to tell Zoe.

She nodded, sniffling. A long, shuddering sigh. And then, straightening, “Yes. Let me just wash my face, and then, yes, I would like to.”

“You should be the one to tell her,” Griffin said, when Ellen came back to the bedroom. “You must have been thinking about this for a while. You must have something in mind. I want you to tell her, but I’ll be there.”

She nodded. “I thought I would just say that I needed some time alone to think about some things. I know she’s going to ask if we’re getting divorced and I’m going to just say no for now, Griffin, all right?”

“I don’t know. Is that smart? Maybe we should just be honest and get the whole thing over with.”

“I think we should take it one step at a time. Let her get used to us being apart and see that it’s not so terrible, before we tell her it’s going to be permanent.”

“All right.”

She swallowed, started to speak, then stopped. And then she said, “Does your stomach hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah. Mine, too.”

He had no idea what to say, settled on “Right.”

“So I’ll be here every day after school, until you come home, and on your nights out. Can you get her off to school?”

“Yes.” He thought about Zoe and him having breakfast alone. It might not be so bad—Ellen had never been a model of morning cheerfulness. He and Zoe liked certain things that Ellen didn’t: sausage, pineapple-orange juice, eggs scrambled dry and not wet, as Ellen preferred. He’d take Zoe to the grocery store today, and they’d pick out things together. They’d have a good time; Griffin would make it a good time.

The door slammed, and they both stiffened and looked at the clock. Eleven. They walked downstairs together. There was Zoe at the foot of the stairs, looking up at them, and Griffin had a thought to take Ellen by the elbow, bring her back upstairs, and say, “I can’t.”

But he did not. Instead, he watched Ellen kiss Zoe’s forehead, then say, “You’re home early. Are you hungry?” Her voice had a quality of distracted control, as though she were speaking while carrying an overly full water glass across a room.

Zoe took off her jacket, hung it on the low hook Griffin had put up for her inside the closet. “No. I’m not so hungry.”

“Just felt like coming home?” Ellen asked.

“Nooooo.”

Ellen looked quickly at Griffin, then said, “What’s going on?”

Zoe walked into the kitchen, slumped into a chair. “I
hate
Eliot Bensen!”

“What happened?” Griffin asked, coming quickly into the room.

Zoe ran her hand along the edge of the table, her chin trembling. Griffin saw a Band-Aid on her thumb and thought,
Enough. No more today.

Ellen sat beside Zoe. “What did he do?”

“He called me Dumbo. Because of my ears.”

Ellen sighed. “He’s at it again, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Griffin asked. “He’s done it
before?”
He knew where Eliot lived. He could go over there. He’d be happy to go over there.

“Dad,”
Zoe said.

“It’s just when they fight,” Ellen said. “When they get into a fight, Eliot does this.”

“It’s
not
just that,” Zoe said. “He says they all decided I can’t play with them anymore. He says I have to play with
girls.”

“…Oh,” Ellen said.

Zoe looked quickly at her, then away.

“So…how do you feel about that?” Ellen asked.

Zoe stood up, pushed her chair in. “I’m going to my room.” She sped upstairs, and they heard her door softly close.

“Ellen,” Griffin said, “we can’t—”

“I know what you’re going to say, Griffin. But this is nothing unusual. It comes up all the time. Then it blows over and she’s right out there with them again. It usually happens when she beats Eliot at something, which is often. She’ll be back out with them this afternoon. Believe me.”

She began to assemble ingredients to make pita bread pizzas, one of Zoe’s favorites. “Want one?” Ellen asked, her back to him. And he said no, and he could tell she was glad. It would weigh too much, her making lunch for him, too.

He went outside to see if he could catch sight of the group of boys Zoe played with. No kids around but the three little girls who lived across the street, bundled up in their snowsuits and chasing each other across their front lawn.

He came back inside and went upstairs, knocked on the door to Zoe’s room. “Zoe?”

Nothing.

He started to push the door open and she yelled, “No!”

“Zoe? Can I come in?”

A pause, and then, “Okay.”

He came in and saw her lying stretched out on her bed. In the corner was her panda, apparently flung there just before she told Griffin to come in.

He sat on the bed beside her, pushed her hair back behind her ear. Quickly, she reached up and pulled the hair back over it. “Don’t.”

“You know what, Zoe?”

“What?”

“Sometimes when people are angry, they say things they don’t really mean.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “He means it, Dad. My ears are big.”

“They’re not so big.”

“Yes, they are! They stick out for about five hundred miles! Everybody says so!”

“I don’t think they stick out so far. I think they are lovely ears, and I think they just might need some earrings.”

She wouldn’t look at him, but one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I think some nice little birthstone studs would be nice. Don’t you?”

She looked at him. “You said I can’t pierce my ears until I’m a hundred years old.”

“I don’t think I said one
hundred.”

“Yes, you did, one time. But usually you only say, ‘Not until you’re six
teen.’”

“Move over,” he said, and then lay down beside her. “Tell me something, Ms. Griffin. Do you believe that people have the right to change their minds?”

“Yes. I guess so.”

“Well, I have changed my mind about you getting your ears pierced.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Her face clouded. “But Mommy won’t let me.”

“Oh, I think she might. I think she might have changed her mind, too.”

“No, she hasn’t.”

“I think she has.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I just do. Let’s go tell her.”

“Can I get my tongue pierced, too?”

“No. And Zoe?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t lie on your bed with shoes on.”

She looked down at her red high-tops, wiggled her feet. “You mean these? These aren’t shoes, Dad. They are expeditors.”

“I see. Well, keep them off the bed, and come down to lunch.”

In the kitchen, Ellen had set a place for Zoe, and the pizzas were on a cookie sheet on the table, covered with sauce and vegetables. “You want to grate the cheese, Zoe?” Ellen asked.

“You said I can’t anymore!”

“It’s time to try again. But I want you to be careful. Remember what happened to your knuckles last time. You have to go slowly.”

She handed Zoe a block of mozzarella, laid some waxed paper on the table, and Zoe began grating furiously.
“Slow
ly,” Ellen said, and Zoe began grating in extreme slow motion until Ellen said, “Not
that
slow,” whereupon she happily sped up again.

Griffin watched silently, as did Ellen. When Zoe had finished, Ellen put the pizzas in the oven, then said, “Zoe, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Ah. Here it was. Griffin crossed his arms, leaned back against the kitchen wall.

Zoe scooped up some of the cheese left over on the waxed paper, dropped it into her mouth. “I am an
excellent
cook!” One little girl, sitting on her knees on a kitchen chair, happy. One little girl, held up high between the fingers of her parents, about to be dropped.

“Sweetie?” Ellen moved her chair to be closer to Zoe. “Listen. I have something to tell you. It’s about something I want to try for a while, something different from the way we live now. I will see you every single day, but I’m going to be moving to a different place, to a little apartment very near here.”

Zoe stopped chewing. “What?”

“I’m going to be moving today to a place very close by. An apartment. I’ll be here every day after school, just like always, but Daddy will get you ready for school in the mornings.”

She frowned. “What do you
mean?”

“Well, I’m going to live in another place for a while so I can think about some things.”

“What things? What did I do?”

“Oh, Zoe, nothing. You didn’t do anything. I just…” She looked up at Griffin, who quickly shook his head.
Uh-uh. You do it.

“See, sometimes when people are really thinking hard about their life, they need to—”

“You’re getting a divorce. Are you getting a divorce?”

“Did I say that?”

“…No.” She looked at Griffin. “Are you, Dad?”

He picked her up, sat her on his lap, and she pushed off him and stood before him, her hands on her hips. “Tell me! I’m not a stupid baby!”

“Mommy did tell you,” he said. “She wants to go and think about some things. That’s all.” The buzzer for the pizzas sounded, ridiculously. “I’m not hungry,” Zoe said. “I
told
you I wasn’t hungry!”

“All right,” Ellen said. “That’s fine. You can eat later.” She took the pizzas out of the oven, put them on the counter. Then she came back to the table, sat down.

“I need to go away for a while to be by myself. You know how sometimes Daddy goes on a business trip? Well, it’s like that. Only now I’m the one who’s going.”

“Can I come?”

“Well…No. I will bring you there to visit very soon, but you will live here.”

“Why can’t you decide things here?”

Ellen nodded, as though agreeing with an answer that had not yet been given. Then she said, “Because sometimes a person just needs a lot of quiet in which to think.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

“Oh, it’s not that, honey. It’s not that kind of quiet. It’s a kind of quiet on the inside. It’s deep on the inside, like a holy place that is just in you. Do you know what I mean?”

To Griffin’s surprise, Zoe said, quite calmly, “Yes.” And then, “But you will come back.”

“Well, I…Yes, I’ll come back.”

“When?”

Ellen hesitated, then said, “I’m not exactly sure, but I think it will be…around Christmas. Okay?” She looked quickly at Griffin and he saw the message she was sending him:
A step at a time, remember?

Zoe shrugged. “Okay.” She looked over at the pizzas. “I guess I’ll eat.” And then, as Ellen placed her food in front of her, “Guess what, Mommy? Dad said I can get my ears pierced!” She looked fiercely at Griffin.
“No backsies.”

“Is that something you really want?” Ellen asked. And when Zoe said yes, Ellen said all right.

After lunch, the group of boys with whom Zoe played came to get her—minus Eliot. Ellen told Zoe goodbye, that she would call her that night, and Zoe kissed her, then quickly put on her jacket and went outside.

“I guess she’s all right,” Ellen told Griffin, watching Zoe run down the street.

“I guess.”

“I didn’t do such a great job, telling her.”

“There is no good way. You might as well go now, Ellen. I don’t think it will help for you to hang around any longer.”

She nodded, went upstairs for her suitcase. When she came down, she was all business. “My address is written at the front of the phone book. I’ll call you with my number as soon as I get it; it’s supposed to be Monday. And I’ll have my cell, and—”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I wish I—”

“We’ll be
fine.
Are you sure you have everything you need?”