“That English friend of yours, Roy Clarke,” Elizabeth went on. “His books are not as ‘important’ as everyone thinks. If a woman wrote them, they’d be considered chick lit, not absurdist masterpieces or astute social satire.”
“I keep meaning to read them,” Tupper said. “Well, it’s nice to hear they’re not full of testosterone and bullfights. Maybe it’s a good thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’ve read them?”
“Yes, every color of his Rainbow. You know I read everything. What will be the title of the new one?”
“Gold,” Tupper said. “Or Red. He hasn’t decided. He seems very excited—”
Someone knocked loudly on the door. Elizabeth jumped to her feet. It was the MacArthur people, come to deliver the news in person.
“Who is it?” Tupper called out gaily, his eyes still closed. He imagined it was Roy, wanting to meet up for a quick drink. They could sit outside on the stoop. Elizabeth could nap.
“Police,” said the voice on the other side of the door.
* * *
It was Monday. Stuart was at work, but he wasn’t paying attention to anything he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be composing music for a “healthy” macaroni and cheese commercial featuring animated dinosaurs. Instead, he was obsessing over Mandy. Her recent energy and behavior were just so inconsistent.
Girl’s so hot her limbs are fired
My lazy lady used to be so tired
He decided to call Dr. Goldberg.
“Hi, it’s Stuart Little, Mandy Marzulli’s husband?”
“Mmm,” Dr. Goldberg said. “The man with the mouse tattoos. How can I help?”
Stuart immediately felt guilty for not going in for a checkup in at least three years. He probably had something dire like skin cancer or fatally high cholesterol.
“Yeah, well, I was just wondering if all the activity she’s been doing lately is okay. I know you have her on some kind of new medication and she’s like, so much better. Plus, and I don’t even know if I should say this, but I got her pot and she’s using it. We both are. Anyway, it’s like—and I don’t even know if this is possible—she’s cured. Maybe you want to do some more tests?”
“Tests for what exactly?”
“Like, to see if she still has MS. I mean, like a month ago she couldn’t get out of bed, and now she’s bouncing around and modeling again and cooking and carrying heavy boxes.”
Friday night, after Mandy had sent Stuart and Ted away to shop for food, they’d come home to find her hauling a huge, heavy box up the stairs.
“I totally forgot,” Mandy had said, “I signed us up for Grandma’s House!” And then she’d cooked them an incredible meal of salmon shepherd’s pie.
“I mean, I just don’t know if the modeling thing is such a great idea,” Stuart went on. “She’ll be traveling, not eating right, standing up all the time and putting her body in weird positions. I guess what I’m concerned about is, with her condition, and with her already being so exhausted—well, she was exhausted recently—shouldn’t she be resting more? Can you tell me what you recommend?”
He heard the sound of papers rustling and the beep and click and whir of a computer. The doctor cleared his throat.
“I have no record here of Mandy having any existing condition, certainly not MS. She had a sinus infection a year and a half ago. That was the last time I saw her and the last medication I prescribed.”
* * *
Ted’s parents had forgotten that the Brooklyn Strategizer had kicked him out. Used to be, Danner from the Strategizer picked him up in the schoolyard with the other boys who went there after school. Now no one picked him up. Now, two afternoons a week, after the nannies and mothers and fathers and grandparents had picked up his schoolmates, Ted messed around in the corners until the air got cold and smelled of fireplaces and the sky turned royal blue. Then he walked home by himself.
Except for today. Today, as he was kicking around in the corners of the schoolyard, foraging in the dried leaves and garbage, he found, amongst other things, a lighter. The lighter was small and green. When he flicked it, a tall flame, taller than he’d expected, rose up and wavered, hot and glorious. The other things he found were a half-full bag of Lay’s potato chips, an unopened pack of watermelon gum, an almost-full water bottle, a pink-and-white polka-dotted lunch bag monogrammed with the name DAKOTA in lime green, and a paper subway