Page 12 of Retrofit Analysis

There’s a heavy silence in the room. Elizabeth stares at me. I’m not really able to control the muscles of my face, so I stare back. I feel the tears return to their proper place in my ducts and I smile, tapping the phone. “Orla looks just like her.”

“I’m so very sorry,” Elizabeth says.

“Thank you.” I inhale, exhale slowly through my nose. “I bought this house about 8 years ago,” I explain. “Orla and I lived with Mick and his boys for a while after Helen died. You remember my brother Mick?”

Steve shakes his head, but Anna rolls her eyes. I chuckle. “He’s still the same.”

“What was it like living together? You two boys…and a young girl…”

I’m used to this question and it doesn’t phase me at all. “It was the best time of my life,” I tell them honestly. “And also the worst.” Mick had been through two divorces in a row, was raising three boys who were basically Irish triplets. “Neither Mick nor I had any idea what the hell we were doing, and I was pretty sick with grief,” I say. Anna squeezes my hand and I smile. “But we had each other. All of us did. We’re all so close now.”

Elizabeth adds, “Kellen works with his family, too. They have an engineering firm.”

“Do you now?” Steve perks up. He was always interested in my fascination with physics. Maybe he hoped it would rub off on his daughter. She always tended more toward art and literature.

“It’s nice working together, all of us,” I tell him. “Mick’s boys, Orla, Mick and me…we’ve got a bunch of others on staff, too, so we aren’t at each other’s throats all day. People tease us, but we do good work,” I assure them. “Beltane Engineering has good synergy.”

“That does sound nice,” Elizabeth says. “I’m glad you all have each other like that.”

She starts to put away the chips and cereal from her grocery bag, and I rise from the table. “I should get going,” I say, hoping they’ll insist I say, and then immediately feeling embarrassed by how desperate I am for company all of a sudden.

“We’re just getting caught up,” Anna says. “I’m sure Elizabeth can offer you a snack if that’s what you need. Bethy, get the man a cookie.”

“Oh, no thank you, really.”

From this angle, standing at the table, I can see Elizabeth bent over to put the snacks in her pantry. For the first time in many years, I feel the zing of heat churning through my veins, straight to my crotch. Good lord, man, control yourself, I think, noticing with uncomfortable certainty that I have a hard-on in my neighbor’s kitchen with her son and parents present.

Concerned with how visible this situation will be through my sweatpants, I sink back down into my seat. “Water would be great,” I manage to croak out. Someone hands me a glass and I gulp it down, trying to forget the way I felt just now, staring at the round swell of Elizabeth’s hips in her dark jeans. This is not how I expected my evening to go at all.

I have no idea what to do about any of it.

Ten

Elizabeth

“It’s 3:06, Mom.” Jake has both palms on the glass of the storm door, staring out at the street where I know Todd is not going to arrive any time soon. Damn him and his selfish horse shit. I should never have relied on him for anything.

“I know, babe,” I tell my son. I pick at my shirt, adjusting one of the “capsule” outfits that Lisa and June declared interview appropriate. I don’t actually have an interview, but I plan to go drop my resume in person at FARE and want to look nice. Of course, I can’t go do that if Todd doesn’t come meet his fucking custody responsibilities.

We both stand there for another five minutes, our breath becoming irregular. I’m sure Jake’s heart is racing as much as mine. “Are you calling him?” My son looks at me so intensely. I have no desire to call Todd, because I am sure I’ll regret what I say to him if I get through, but I nod to Jake and pull out my phone. I dial.

“Right to voicemail, Jake.” We both sigh. Then he screams.

“I don’t even like him. His new house smells like fragrance and I don’t like that person he’s living with because she smells like hairspray and all the food has tomatoes in it.” Jake yanks open the front door and steps into the front yard, where he screams again and then plunks down on the grass.

I close my eyes and wait for inspiration to come to help me salvage this day, but it doesn’t arrive. Until I open my eyes and see Kellen crossing the street, a lawnmower abandoned in his driveway. “Hey, Jake,” he says, his voice kind. “Something bothering you today?”

“Yes!” Jake doesn’t elaborate. I smile because he did indeed answer Kellen’s question. Kellen also grins, and I feel warmth spread through my chest, where I hadn’t quite realized an icy chill had settled.

“Would you—now wait. Let me get it right. I’d like to see if I have an idea to help. What’s bothering you?”

Jake seems to ponder Kellen, who sits down next to him in the grass and waits, patiently. Why can’t Jake’s actual father be this patient with him, I think, and immediately hate myself for having such thoughts. There’s just so much to unpack there. I listen as Jake complains that his dad is late, is not answering his phone, and has basically ruined Jake’s entire life.

Kellen looks up at me and nods. I wave. “Your mom is pretty dressed up. She looks like she had some plans go awry, too.”

Jake considers this and looks at me. “She is dressed atypically, yes.”

“You got somewhere to be, Beth?” With his legs bent, arms dangling as he and my son fidget with the clover growing in the yard, I can easily pretend, just for a minute, they both belong there, together. Father and son, making sure I get out the door okay. It’s a fantasy, totally unrealistic and a dangerous path to let my thoughts wander.