THE FIRST THING ERICA DOES the next morning is call Dirk.
“Hi, Erica,” he says, antipathy dripping off the two words. He would never come out and admit it, but he’s jealous of her success. Erica knows she has to tread lightly.
“I wanted to talk to you about Jenny’s birthday.”
“We’re taking her on a whale watch tour. That’s what she wants.”
“Our daughter, the marine biologist.” No response. “That sounds wonderful. Do you think she would enjoy coming down to New York and seeing where I work?”
Dirk sighs. “It would be difficult logistically. I’m not just going to put her on a train by herself.”
“Of course not. I’ll send a car and driver to come up and get her.”
“ ‘Send a car and driver’? Honestly, Erica, success is ruining you.”
Former husbands can be such a-holes.
“I guess I flourished in failure.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she knows they’re a mistake.
“I can live without your sarcasm. And I don’t think it’s in Jenny’s best interests to go down there. She’s finally settling down in school.
Linda is a steadying influence. Being exposed to all that New York razzle-dazzle could easily throw her off.”
“Linda is a steadying influence.” Which means one thing: Erica is an unsteadying influence. Here comes that mocking voice in her head: bad mother, bad mother, bad mother. Yes, she has been a bad mother, but that’s in the past. Today is today.
“It’s just one day, Dirk, and the party is going to be small and low-key.”
He sighs again, but this one sounds like surrender. Then there’s a long pause before, “Erica, I can’t provide for Jenny the way you can. She’ll come home and see me as a disappointment.”
Erica appreciates his honesty. Dirk is a high school history teacher. He’s basically a well-meaning guy. When they first met, Erica was attracted to his passion for history and his idealism about teaching. These days he’s in mid-burnout and he takes out his frustrations on Erica.
“On the other hand, Dirk, she may spend one day here and say, ‘No thanks to that stress fest.’ ”
Dirk chuckles. It’s a nice sound. Erica flashes back on a weekend camping trip they took in Vermont’s Green Mountains early in their courtship. Erica had never been camping but wanted to be a good sport. The first day out—after a dinner of slimy, lukewarm ramen noodles—they spent an unromantic night shivering on lumpy ground in a flimsy tent surrounded by animal noises that to Erica sounded like hungry bears licking their chops. She learned a valuable life lesson that night: man invented houses for a good reason. In the morning Erica pleaded with Dirk to head back to civilization. He chuckled—that sweet, indulgent chuckle of his—and packed up the tent.
“Erica, are you on the beam with the drinking?” he asks, suddenly deadly serious.
She wants to say, Do you really think I could function at this level and drink? But she holds her tongue. It’s a legitimate question. “I am, yes.”
“All right then. Jenny can come. But just for the day.”
Erica hangs up. So Jenny is coming down to see her next Monday. A birthday visit. How wonderful! Erica takes out her cards and deals a hand of solitaire, trying to convince herself that the visit doesn’t fill her with anxiety and dread.