“Do I still think of whom? David? Not often. Every now and then something will remind me of him, like that stupid fake plant, but for the most part I no longer do. It has been so long.”
“But why do you even bother?” He asked this sternly, looking at her. She noticed the left corner of his mouth twitch momentarily, and then go slack.
“I don’t know. I guess I just loved him.”
“But you loved a lot of people. You always say you loved Dad.”
“I still do. It’s different, that’s all.” She slowed down. They were getting close to her brother’s house, and she wanted to enjoy this walk a little more. “Who is your girlfriend?” she asked hesitantly, careful not to let her eagerness show. She ran her finger across his cheek.
“Well, if you know I have a girlfriend, then I’m sure you know who she is. Dad must have told you.”
“Well, why the subterfuge?”
“Because it’s nobody’s business.”
“Oh, my. This is serious.” She watched him begin to redden, even his ears changed color. “Is this love I see before me?”
“Cut it out.”
“So is it true what your father said, that your lips and hers seem to be sewn together?”
“Glued together. The metaphor is glued together, not sewn.”
“I can use whatever metaphor I like. I’m the writer.”
“You wish.”
“Oh, my, my, my. This is serious.” She could not help smiling. She had heard about what was going on, but had not expected to find him so smitten. “This is love. I can see why you’d have a fight with your dad over her.”
“Is that what he told you?” He shook his head in consternation. “He told you the fight was about her? He didn’t tell you about FreeCell, I assume.”
“FreeCell?”
“The computer solitaire game. That’s what all politicians in Lebanon do. They drink coffee and play FreeCell. Dad doesn’t let anybody use his computer. You know why? He doesn’t want to fuck up his FreeCell ratio. Can you believe that? I sat and played the dumb game and I lost. I broke his record of eighteen straight games. He freaked. He started screaming I should leave his FreeCell alone.”
She started laughing again. “That wasn’t about FreeCell, you know.”
“Don’t start with psychoanalysis, Mom. Please. FreeCell isn’t a metaphor for his penis. I don’t care about his FreeCell or his penis.”
By the time they reached the door, she was convulsing with laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.
Sarah’s half-brother, Ramzi, lived with his lover in an old Victorian across the hill from her flat. The house, like everything in their life, was meticulously kept. The garden, which was small even by San Francisco standards, had a tropical motif. In the northwest corner stood a miniature fountain, shaped like a giant seashell, with water spouting from the mouth of an “authentic” black-lava Tiki god with red, faux-ruby eyes. In the northeast corner sat a hot tub, barely seating two, built to look like a miniature volcano, including a lava flow fit to scale. The plants were mainly giant birds of paradise, ferns, and even a new mutation of a banana tree, which produced inedible fruit full of seeds.
The brunch was in the tiny gazebo dominating the center of the garden. Sarah sat on the chair — the color of all the patio furniture was forest green, which was also the color of the gazebo — and felt dew seeping through her skirt.
“You know, Sarah,” Peter said when Ramzi was back with the drinks, “it’s always disconcerting to see you with your son.”
“Why’s that?” Sarah asked.
“Simply thinking of you as a mother is disconcerting.”
“Thanks, Peter,” she said. “I can always rely on you to say just the right thing to make me feel better.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just meant it’s difficult to see you as a mother since you never seemed to have developed any competence at being an adult.”
“Fuck you,” she hissed at him. “You’re such a stupid asshole sometimes.”
“And she didn’t mean that in a bad way,” added Kamal.
“Now, now.” Ramzi squeezed himself next to Peter. “Let’s talk about more important things. What’s this thing I hear about you being in love?”
Kamal stared at his mother. “I can’t believe you,” he said. “Don’t you have anything better to talk about?”
“Your mother wasn’t the one who told me,” Ramzi said. “I think the first to mention it was my mother. When I talked to your father, he told me as well. Then both my other sisters told me. Come to think of it, only Sarah hasn’t told me.”
“That’s because Sarah has better things to talk about.” Sarah gave her son a raspberry, beginning to feel the two mimosas. “If I wanted to talk about you, my dear, I would have told everyone how you were having an affair with Mrs. Hatem last summer.”
“I can’t believe you said that,” her son yelled.
“Did you say Mrs.?” Peter asked in mock seriousness.
“Oh, settle down, Kamal,” Ramzi said. “Did you think we wouldn’t know?”
“Everybody knows,” his mother said, sipping her drink slowly. Kamal looked more and more glum. “You’re part of the family. You can’t escape no matter how hard you try. Trust me. I tried.”
Ramzi glanced at his sister, a look of concern. “Was that a little bitter?” he asked. “You doing all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s not bitterness as much as confusion. I was just wondering how I could’ve been so gullible. I’ve been thinking about it all recently. I mean here I am, the black sheep of the family, yet I’m still part of it. I tried separating from the family all my life, only to find out it’s not possible, not in my family. So I become the black sheep without any of the advantages of being one, just the disadvantages. It doesn’t seem fair!”
“How do you mean?” asked Ramzi.
“So, Kamal,” interrupted Peter, “what do you think of our summer weather?”
Sarah stood up and stretched. She walked over to the volcanic hot tub. “You want to go in,” Ramzi said, standing right behind her. She smiled.
“No,” she replied softly. She sat down on the edge of the volcano, above the lava, and faced her brother. “I just wanted to get away from your boyfriend. He treats me with a certain condescension, which I do not like. It has to stop.”
“I know.” He stood in front of her, slightly embarrassed, hands in pockets. “Don’t think it’s personal. He just has trouble with my family, and with his for that matter. He’s terrified of anything coming between us.”
“Well, tell him if he doesn’t stop, something will come between you. I will fucking kick his butt back to Minnesota and he’ll never see you again.”
“Look, I’m sorry. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it. I’ll talk to him. I promise. Anyway, I’m interested in what you were saying about being part of the family. I’d like to hear what you have to say sometime.” He bent over and kissed her.
“Hey, Mom,” Kamal called, turning around in his chair. “Did you watch the women’s World Cup?”
“Of course, I did,” Sarah replied. “I loved it.”
“Hey, your mother was way ahead of her time,” Ramzi added. “She was damn good too. I can vouch for that. She was better than anybody on those teams.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“In any case, your mother cried during the whole final,” Ramzi said.
“Well, that’s not saying much,” Kamal replied. “She cried in the hardware store on the way over.”
“You did? What about?” Ramzi held her hand.
“Nothing important. Something silly reminded me of David.”
“Oh, come on. Are you still thinking of that jerk?” Ramzi turned away, looked up at the sky.