she’d locked herself in the bathroom and run the water until dawn so he didn’t hear her crying. He’d realized that it was finally time to put his foot down.
“How are you?” Sheila now asked. He had to admit, it was nice to finally hear her voice. Also, and this thought did not illustrate his finest hour, he could always use that trust fund. He’d been burning through his cash lately. Hardly a single meal cooked at home. Turns out, eating alone is depressing.
“I’m good, Mom,” he said. His head wasn’t though. It felt like a splinter had lodged in his cranium, and was slowly working its way out.
“Oh, Saraub, I miss you! Your uncle will be so happy. We’re celebrating Ganesha tonight. Just in time. Will you come?”
“We celebrate that? Wasn’t it last month?”
“It’s a new thing. For good luck with the business. Would you come?”
He pictured their cook efficiently dropping pappa-dam in hot oil, cooking rotis special, just for him, and he grinned. Homecoming. He’d missed that apartment. For one, it was so big he could stretch out on the rug in front of the television. For another, it was on the thirty-sixth floor. So high up that the air was actually clean, and his stuffed nose always miraculously cleared. “I’ve got news, Mom.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and he realized that she thought he was about to announce his engagement to Audrey. She probably had no idea that it had already happened, and unhappened. “I’m not sure I want to hear…” she said.
“Maginot Lines, Mom. I might get a green light. Like, fifty percent chance they’ll finish the funding and distribute it in theatres. A real, feature-length movie. Can you believe it?” He was so excited he hopped up from his chair. Crumbs came with him. He really was a slob. No joke. For a neat freak, Audrey had put up with a lot.
“And now, which one is that?” she asked.
He reddened. “The movie about natural resources. I’ve been working on it for three years, Mom.”
“The hippy thing—your young-life crisis.”
He made a fist and squeezed. “Right.”
“Well, that’s wonderful! But don’t be too hard on Servitus. We’ve got half our stock invested. They paid for your college. And that beautiful wing at the Met, too.”
“I know,” he said, though it seemed like crappy timing to bring it up, just now.
“Only company that’s up this year. Thank God! Anyway, this is wonderful news, dear. We can celebrate tonight. I’m so happy you called. I was just thinking about you because I don’t have any recent pictures for the refrigerator. What do you want to eat? I’m about to give Innocencia the list. I thought puran polis—you like them, yes?”
He nodded, still wiping the crumbs from his backside. It occurred to him that he’d been down lately because normally he washed his clothes after wearing them. Working at home this last month had come at a bad time. He needed to be around people. “Dinner sounds great. What can I bring?”
“Wonderful! I’ll set an extra place. So much to catch up on. Did you know your two cousins took over the business? It’s still Ramesh and Ramesh, of course.”
He smiled. Better news than he’d hoped. It meant his mother and aunts had sold their shares, and likely, each eldest son, except for Saraub, was now a partner. Which also meant that he was out of the rug business for good.
“Great news. I’ll bring red wine. How’s that?” Saraub asked. He walked as he talked, feeling energetic for the first time since Audrey left. Feeling good. He started picking up clothes off the floor. Maybe the worst of it was over. Maybe that first two weeks after she left, when he hadn’t shaved or brushed his hair, were in the past. Hell, maybe he was even ready to start dating again.
“Yes. How about a nice Bordeaux? Two bottles. Oh, and Whiskers is good, but he’ll be happy to see you. No one ever scratches his ears.”
Saraub by now had piled his clothes into a heap on the kitchen table and was deciding whether to carry them to the Laundromat two blocks north, or burn them. “Okay. Two Bordeaux!” He was surprised by how well all this had gone. It was as if they’d never fought. And why had they fought? Over Audrey? It all seemed so ridiculous now. He’d built Sheila up in his mind as unreasonable, but maybe it was Audrey’s influence that