They lay on the floor of the room that might belong to a son and tried to imagine how he would see it. Is it large? So large it is frightening? They tested nightlights. The brown rabbit here. The little polar bear. He would have a favorite animal.
“I think he’ll favor a clam,” Jeremy said.
“Definitely a lion guy,” Alexandra said.
“Or snails.”
“What kind of kid’s favorite animal is a mollusk?”
“Children like an octopus, don’t they?” he said.
In the corner of the room, they attached three small glowing stars. She looked at them. One for each of the family. She rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself by elbows to look at her husband.
“What if his favorite animal is shrimp, and we can never eat scampi again?” she said.
“Then we’ll hire a babysitter once a month.”
“And what if he wants a dog?”
“Then we’ll attach longer ears to So-So and Jill.”
“You are very wise,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows, turned on his side. “A fortune cookie amongst men,” he said.
“And what is the secret to happiness?”
“You.”
“And how do we solve war?”
“Sterilization.”
“And what is the meaning of life?”
“The opposite of sterilization.”
“And now for the soft pitch: How do you make an angry person not?”
“Sometimes you can’t,” Jeremy said.
“Then how does he get better?”
“Sometimes she doesn’t.”
“It seems too meager to be Jeremy wisdom when you say it,” she said.
So-So swished in from the living room, a pale orange body climbing over Jeremy’s torso as though it were any other terrain. He lifted the cat, detaching claws hooked into his shirt, and replaced So-So on the floor.
“Do not mistake discrete for meager,” Jeremy said. “The distinction is what maintains my mental health when clients quit.”
Alexandra lay back on her back. Her hair was splayed beneath her. “But what about the ones you work with for a while? Wouldn’t it be impossible to see them leave when you know what could happen?”
“Why would it?” Jeremy asked.
“Because people over time,” she said to the corner stars. “Because you’re used to them, and it isn’t easy to remove someone from your life.”
“We live in New York City. Every day doing errands, buying milk, on the MTA, I see hundreds of people I’ll never see again. That is the grammar of the universe and nothing more. It’s normal not to see people again, more normal than continuing to meet for the rest of your life. They are only the laws of time and space that never again will we coincide with almost everyone.”
“If you love them let them go? Is that what it is?”
“Don’t,” Jeremy said, “love them in the first place. I think that is the point. Let’s talk about the animals again. I liked the animal conversation.”
Alexandra closed her eyes. “A discussion for the birds.”