Gandhi's Guide to Getting By

chapter eighteen

Matt says to think of it as a coming out party.

"A coming out party?" I say into my phone. I look at what used to be my bed. Right now, it's my new closet because everything that used to be in my closet has been tossed haphazardly onto my bed. "What am I coming out from?"

Matt laughs. "You're coming out with me."

"That's what worries me."

"Don't worry about it," he says, "You've already met my mother and I think I can safely say she's the wackiest of the lot."

"The thing is, Matt, I've never met anyone's family before."

"Your friends don't have families?"

I smile. I tell him he knows what I mean - I've never met the family of anyone I dated. Then again, I've never really dated anyone. "Could explain it," Matt says. "Besides, it's not really a family gathering, more like a big cocktail my father's having where my parents will both happen to be. It's mostly my father's business associates. He just closed a deal. Chichi's is catering."

"Chichi's? Wow! Wait until I tell Stella. She's sort of bummed out because Mr. Wonderful cancelled out on her last minute."

Matt releases a long sigh. It's as if he's gone from jocular to heavy within the span of my sentence. I ask him if he's okay. "I shouldn't have said anything," he says.

"About what? Chichi's?"

"Can we just not talk about Chichi's?"

His voice is sharper than I've ever heard him sound before. "Emma?" he now says, "Sorry for snapping. I guess I'm just on edge with work."

"I still think your mother going to your father's cocktail party is weird," I say, more to change the topic than from actual interest. "I thought they hardly spoke to each other."

"My Dad's what people like to call an important man," Matt says. His tone of voice, I notice, is back to how it was at the beginning of our conversation. "It means he knows a lot of important wealthy people who just happen to be the kind of people my mother likes, especially if they're older. Oh, and it doesn't hurt if they've got a disease or two. In fact, the more diseased the better. My dad likes to help her out when he can because relationships keep her busy and the busier she is, the less he hears from her. It's like Gandhi said, Get someone involved with someone rich and you will not hear from them."

I laugh. "Gandhi never said that."

"Well he must have said something about getting involved with rich people."

"Don't think so."

We talk for a few more minutes, then hang up. He comes in an hour and I still don't know what to wear. I head over to the bathroom, only to find Ax kneeling on the floor with her ear pressed against the wall.

"What the--"

"Shh," Ax whispers, "I'm listening to the Dave and Liv show. They're talking about you."

I'm not sure how seriously I should take Ax. Yes, the bathroom we share is connected to Mom and Dad's bedroom, but I've never overheard any of their conversations from in here.

"Ax, you can't hear--"

Ax looks up at me and smiles. She motions for me to join her on the floor. I only now notice she's moved the basket with the towels to the side. She points to a small hole in the wall. "I drilled a hole right through to their room," she whispers.

"What? When did you do that?"

Ax shrugs. "A few years ago. Do you want to hear or not?"

I tell her to move over and to close the bathroom door. Ax is right, you can hear every word they are saying.