Swim, Butterfly Chapter 29
Flay the Potato
End of August, summer winding down nicely, peacefully, considering. One afternoon while peeling potatoes over the sink, with cartoons buzzing on TV, I hear my phone ring. My heart jumps, but I tell myself to cool the fuck down and look. Pete.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Deenah is coming over tonight, around seven. She wants to talk to me about something. Think you can throw some steaks on the grill or something?"
I feel my face leaden, "Uh, okay. Just Deenah? Not the rest of the fish bowlers?"
"Yeah, uh, the what? Hey, never mind, I gotta go. Just Deenah."
"She say what it's about?"
"Nah, wants to talk in person. Hey, gotta go."
"Okay, bye." I loosen my grip on the cold steel sink. Deenah's coming over the bridge? For her to come to New Jersey is like asking her to travel to Angkor Wat. Fish bowlers never go anywhere, just swim around the same 10-mile radius their whole lives. And visiting Disney World doesn't count as getting out and seeing a bit of the world. But fuck it, whatever will be, will be.
I have no idea what's on Deenah's mind. Could she have found out about me? We have no common friends and I don't think Pete told anyone at all. Hell, he knows anyway. I take steaks out of the freezer to defrost in a pan of cold water, and then continue peeling the potatoes, interrupted by switching the wash and running around cleaning the house and patio last minute.
Pete rolls in around 3:30. He trudges into the living room, tells the kids to go outside, and drops his work bag beside his easy chair. June and Rudy sigh but obey, turning off the TV and heading to the side door in the kitchen. I give them popsicles to sweeten the deal and shoo them outdoors.
Pete joins me in the kitchen, where I'm still trying to peel all the potatoes. "So, Pete, whatever she wants, tell her no."
He sneaks a glass under the faucet, the water missing the glass and running down his wrist. Finally he fills the glass and sips it, leaning against the counter by the sink.
"Ha ha, did I hear you right, Caroline? Say no to Deenah? I can't imagine why she wants to come over, though. Doubt it's anything good."
"Is she," I almost ask if she's getting along with her husband, Joe, but switch tracks, "is she doing okay financially?" I glance up at Pete.
He narrows his eyes. "I dunno. I don't talk to her much."
"Maybe she just wants some warm and fuzzy family time." I smile widely.
Pete laughs. "I doubt it."
He finishes the glass of water and sets it on the counter. He watches the peeler flay the potato. "What did he see in you, Caroline?"
I stop, nearly dropping the potato and the peeler. "Really? Now? We were having a nice domestic moment."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I asked. Of all the people who must be free and available in one of the biggest cities in the world, why another man's wife? Who has kids, too?"
My wrist goes limp. I'm tempted to roll my eyes, but I don't. "It just happened. There's no reasonable explanation. It's like electrical theory to me--you can explain it away forever and ever and I still won't grasp it."
"Oh, come on, I told you the difference between current and voltage is just..."
"Didn't you ever love someone, just love them without knowing why? There's no theory behind human emotion!"
