Dying for Chocolate

“I do, I just forget. It’s like changing a tire. You have to figure it out, just like when you have a flat tire. Only when you get a flat tire you’re so frustrated it takes fifteen minutes to calm down enough to think.”

“You have to pretend you’re an electrical circuit,” Arch said as he pinched open the toothed cable-claws and attached them to the batteries. “The cables just complete the circuit.” After a few moments he said triumphantly, “Now try it.”

It started like a charm. Arch disconnected the cables and threw them in on top of the shrimp. I was awash in guilt for thinking he did not know about cars. I yelled thanks to the woman and her son.

Back at the Farquhars, though, things did not go so smoothly. The phone began its incessant ringing. Aspen Meadow Florist called. Did General Farquhar really want three rare orchids on the corsage, at fifteen dollars each? Yes, I said. What could it hurt? Then Brian Harrington called. Was sweet Sissy going to be at the anniversary party? What business was it of his, I wanted to know, but only said yes. Then I heard a click and couldn’t get a dial tone. Either the Farquhars were having trouble with their phone or the person who kept picking up the line was doing it again.

“Damn, damn, damn,” I said as I slammed the phone repeatedly into its cradle. Whoever it was, I thought savagely, that shouldn’t feel too pleasant on the ear.

“Now what’s wrong?” Arch demanded.

“I can’t get the phone to work,” I said crossly. After a few more receiver-slams the dial tone finally popped back, and I tried four of the names on Arch’s list. Three no-answers and one busy signal.

“I’m sorry, Arch, I’ll keep trying once I get the pasta going for the salad. Nobody’s home, so it’s really not my—

“Nothing is ever your fault! Whose fault is it?” He stomped out of the kitchen. When he got into the hall, he yelled, “Sometimes I just want to go and live with Dad!”

I let cold water gush into deep pots, then set them on to boil. I gritted my teeth. All my motherly work for nothing. Go and live with your father, I wanted to yell back. But I would not. I dumped the almonds into the food processor. The blade made a huge noise, as if it were grinding gravel. It was strangely comforting. I was not going to get angry. I was not going to say what I knew to be true.

Your father doesn’t want you.

23.

Adele and the general entered the kitchen. They were together, they were quiet, they avoided my eyes. I figured I was either going to get sympathy or get fired.

To my surprise, it was the former.

“Let’s go out on the veranda, shall we?” said General Bo in a time-for-the-staff-meeting tone. “We couldn’t help but overhear.”

I mumbled in the affirmative. Before we could move in that direction, though, Julian padded across the kitchen tiles. Ignoring the Farquhars, he lightly touched the fudge he had made that morning before he left for school. Left without Arch, I added mentally, but was in no mood for another hostile encounter. The candy appeared to be cool. Then he peered into the blender with the almonds. Satisfied, he moved to the refrigerator, opened the door, and clanked jars around. He emerged grasping soft drinks under each arm. He said, “Could you send Sissy down when she comes? I’m helping Arch build his stand.”

“You’re home early,” I observed coolly.

“Yeah, I skipped my lab because I thought Arch might need some help.”

I said I would indeed send Sissy down when she arrived. Pressing my temples with my fingers, I followed the Farquhars out to the porch. I welcomed anyone’s willingness to help Arch.

“Goldy,” said the general once he was seated and had fixed me with his ice-blue gaze, “you’re under a lot of fire. Let us give you a hand.”

I explained to them that I was just trying to get Arch’s party set up, the party that was going to be at the same time as their anniversary soirée. I turned to Adele. Which was your stupid idea, I almost said to her, but did not.

Adele clucked. “Oh, and I was so hoping it would make him happy.” She paused. “I think children go through ungrateful periods. Marla had tough teenage years, I remember.”

I looked out at the sky. It was a liquid blue that permeated the air and brought the hills, the trees, the lumps of mountain grass into sharp focus.

I said, “I don’t want Arch to go off the deep end. You can’t imagine what a shock it was to see him walking into town today. I thought he was running away. I ended up doing a money-binge at Aspen Meadow Drug on something extravagant that he doesn’t even need.”

The general cleared his throat. “If you really don’t want him to be going AWOL on you,” he said in a conspiratorial tone, “I can just set the perimeter alarm whenever he’s in the house. If he tries to run away, we’ll know.”

“No. I would never. . . but thanks very much. Really.” I regarded them both, a pair of tilted heads, two pairs of empathetic eyes. “Keeping him prisoner won’t work. I’ll call his friends while I’m cooking. Maybe you two could invite him out now for a swim.”