Chapter 37

Mary lets me sleep while she helps Muller with breakfast. I hear skillets banging and Mary humming. The phone rings, I pick up, but Mary’s already on the extension. Otis is telling her he misses Muller’s baking. “We’d appreciate his attendance in our kitchen,” he says. The crazy fucker is too spaced out to care. All Mary can say is, “What? Who is this?” I tell her it’s Max clowning around and once she’s off the line, I explain to Otis that he needs to fuck off. “That’s a fine howdy-do,” he says and hangs up.

Out in the sunroom, I hear Otis back on the air: “That’s ‘It’s All Over Now’, by The Valentinos. You probably remember The Rolling Stones’ version. They were nothing special ‘til Bobby Womack pulled their nuts out of the wringer.”

The Rec Room of Sound is going constantly in this house, even when Otis is just sitting there, slack-jawed, sleeping through another album. Sometimes Margot just slides his chair back, does her show, then slides him in front of the screen again. Amazingly, the numbers are growing, especially for Otis Cries for You. The crazy bastard can cry on a dime and still be an insensitive asshole. Fortunately, Margot anticipates these critical moments, pushing Otis out of his chair before he gets into real trouble. As I make my breakfast now, I hear Otis, talking to some girl on line. Then I hear something crash, and Margot saying, “Listen, Susie, Otis is feeding you a line of bull. Contraception is your responsibility. Just because your boyfriend’s all thumbs doesn’t mean you stop protection. Practice makes perfect. Try putting it on a banana . . .”

I take my cereal over to the computer, watching Margot slipping a condom over a banana. “That’s my breakfast,” Otis is saying. Margot ignores him and keeps talking. “Practice your technique, Susie,” she says. “Craig isn’t going to lose his stiffy if you’re fast. I can’t believe I just said stiffy.”

“I can’t believe it, either,” Max says.

Ruby laughs in the background. Margot tosses Otis the banana. “Take your stupid banana, Otis.”

“I don’t want it now.”

“I’ll take it,” Max says.

“Get your own banana, Max.”

“Stop being a baby, old man. Look, you’ve got blogs.”

“Get out of my chair, Margot,” Otis says, pushing her aside. “Okay, here we go. A woman in Rockford just lost her son in a kayaking accident. That’s a tragic loss, ma’am. Hope he’s not your only kiddie—” Margot leans in to read the screen. “He’s not dead, you idiot,” she says. “He just hasn’t called.”

“Correction,” Otis says. “We don’t know if the kid’s alive or under a deadhead somewhere. Either way,”—fist to his mouth—“Otis is feeling your pain and your loss—”

“Read the next message, for God’s sake, Otis,” Margot says. Bisquick jumps on Otis’s head. Otis swats him away. Max is standing behind them, eating the banana.

“Okay, her kid just walked through the door,” Otis says. “Hallelujah for that. I’m happy for you, ma’am. Little Johnny came marching home, eh? Here’s a cry for the happy reunion of mother and son. You hold him in your arms. Hold him good and tight, ‘cause one day, things won’t be so rosy.”

“Just cry and shut your yap,” Margot says.

Bisquick pulls at a hair on Otis’ arm. “Ouch! Fuck off, Bisquick!”

“Shove over,” Margot says, pushing Otis out of the way. “Just a little perspective on that last story. Mrs. Klein, if your kid’s doing water sports, make sure he’s wearing a good life jacket. Better than sinking like a stone, honey.”

Ruby comes out of the laundry room, holding a monkey wrench. “Something’s clogging up the drain, Max,” she says. “You got any whites, Margot?” Margot disappears into the bedroom next to the laundry room. I guess she’s been crashing there since Ruby let Otis move back upstairs. “Otis, give me your shirt,” Ruby says.

“Why?”

“It’s filthy,” Ruby says, pulling the shirt over his head. “Anything else you want washed? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I’m half-naked here, Ruby.”

“Nobody cares if you’re half-naked.”

Mrs. Klein is laughing her head off.