Leaving New York

Chapter 24

I hated driving on the freeways in Paris—people drove like maniacs, even compared to New Yorkers. Charles de Gaulle airport is a massive clusterfuck of ramps, parking decks, massive terminals, but finally, I found Gardner and Chloe standing impatiently on the curb. I pulled up, hopping out to hug them.

"Welcome back."

"Thanks."

They got in as I stowed the bags like a servant.

I got in the driver's seat. "It's so good to see you both."

Gar looked at Chloe, "That hat cost me two hundred euros. Thanks for leaving it on the plane."

My eyes met Chloe's in the rearview mirror. Gar stared out the window the whole way home.

They hopped out at the old mansion without saying a word. I unloaded the bags then found a parking place. As I came in, I heard Gar yell at his wife upstairs, then a door slammed. Chloe came downstairs as I started carrying the suitcases upstairs.

"No, Jack. Let Dr. Frankenstein get all that shit. It'll give him something else to bitch about." She pulled a tissue out of her slacks and dabbed her eyes.

"I don't mind; it gives me something to do."

"Forget it."

"Okay. I was going to make myself a cupper. Would you like one?"

"That would be divine. I'm so wiped after the longest plane ride in history."

I put the kettle on as she stood looking at her garden. The kettle whistled; I set two mugs of Oolong on the table with a plate of ginger snaps, her favorite cookie. I was tired after working like a dog to make the place perfect for their return. Everything was dusted, swept, mopped, vacuumed in the eight thousand square foot house. The gardens were immaculate. Chloe sipped her tea, not noticing a fresh coat of wax on the kitchen floor.

"So, how are you?"

"Okay."

"Long flights are hard."

"I feel like a zombie."

"I'm sorry things didn't work out."

"I want to talk, Jack, but I think I'm going to lie down."

"Okay."

I went to my room to nap. I still worried my depression might come calling; if it did, I needed a game plan. I dozed a bit, then got up to start making a simple dinner—salad, a thick lentil soup, and bread. I looked from my bedroom window at Gar smoking a joint on a chaise lounge. What must he be thinking?

As I stirred the lentils, the kitchen door opened.

"Hey, Gar. Dinner's simple tonight."

Chloe stood next to him. "You are so sweet for making dinner. Isn't he, honey?"

"Yeah, sure." They sat down, Gar cursing as he flipped through the bills while I pulled a baguette out of the oven. I put the food on the table; nobody said much.

"I'm gonna call lost and found about that hat."

Chloe said, "I'm sick of the hat. And stop moping."

Gar jumped up, heading to the living room. Chloe disappeared. I washed up, then checked on Gar, who was drinking a big Bourbon.

"Hey."

"Jack."

"Can I get you something?"

"You can stop acting like a goddamn butler."

"I'm sorry."

I scanned Ethel's photographs covering every inch of the elegant room.

"Maybe I can help—what if I paid you rent instead of cooking and taking care of the house. It would at least be some money coming in."

The glass he was holding slipped and shattered on the tile floor. He jumped up and yelled, "Goddamnit!" wildly kicking pieces into the fireplace. Chloe appeared at the door.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" He fell back on the couch, covering his face. Chloe rushed to him, hugging him sweetly, "It'll be okay." She looked up at me, standing there, helpless. She mouthed the words, "I've got this." I nodded, then went to bed, thinking of my unanswered proposal.