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She filled the sink with soapy water, tucking in the dirty bowls and utensils before she took a seat at the table. She knew Greg didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart talk, but she had him cornered and he seemed resigned.
“I’ve been thinking about Shelly and I realized I didn’t know anything about her family. Where’s she from?”
“ Los Angeles. Tustin or Irvine, I forget which,” he said. “Her family disowned her when she was fifteen and got pregnant with Shawn.”
“That’s too bad. It must be hard for her.”
“Nah. They didn’t get along anyway, so it was no big deal. She says they’re a bunch of pigs with their heads up their butts.”
“I see.” She hesitated and then plunged on. “I’m not sure this is the time to bring it up, but your father and I are curious about your plans. I wondered if you wanted to discuss the situation.”
“Not particularly. Plans for what?”
“We assumed you’d be looking for a job.”
She heard Shawn giggling and she looked over to see him round the corner from the living room, stark naked. He dashed into the kitchen with a certain brash confidence, whooping and leaping to claim their attention. Deborah looked over at him coolly as he shook his bottom at them and galloped away. She could hear his bare feet slapping down the hall as he ran around the house, circling through the living room, dining room, kitchen, the front hall, and back through the living room. Clearly, Greg had learned to block out the child’s shrieking, which Shelly, of course, encouraged as freedom of expression.
“A job doing what?”
“You have a family to support. At the bare minimum, you have to have income and a decent place to live.”
“What’s wrong with the bus? We’re doing fine. Unless you begrudge us the parking space.”
“Of course we don’t begrudge you the parking space. Don’t be ridiculous. All I’m saying is that once the baby’s here, you can’t go on living like vagabonds.”
“Shelly doesn’t want to be tied down. She likes being on the road. Lots of our friends do the same thing and it’s groovy. You gotta go with the flow.”
“What will you do for money? Babies are expensive. Surely, I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Mom, would you just cool it with this stuff? I’m twenty-one years old. I don’t need your advice. We’ll take care of it, okay?”
Deborah let that one roll off her back and tried again. “Could you at least give us an idea how long you plan to stay?”
“Why? You want us out of here?”
Shawn tiptoed into the room, like a cartoon character, with exaggerated steps. Deborah watched him creep up on Greg with his hands out in front of him like claws. He let out a fake roar and gave Greg a swipe. Greg growled and grabbed at him. Shawn screamed with laughter as he galloped toward the dining room. “You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me. Nah, nah, nah.” He stopped and made a face, fingers wiggling at his ears. Off he went again. Deborah absolutely could not stand the child.
She said, “Why are you being so argumentative? That’s not like you. I’m trying to get a sense of your intentions if it’s not too much to ask.”
“Who says I have to have intentions?”
“Fine. You have no plans and no intentions. We do. We’re willing to have you stay here until the baby’s born, but it can’t be permanent.”
“Would you get off that stuff? I said we’d take care of it and we’ll take care of it.”
Deborah stared at him, struck by his refusal to address reality. This was the first time she’d understood how immature he was. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. He’d adopted Shelly’s worldview, but without foundation or depth. Maybe it was the same form of parroting that had gotten him through school. “I don’t understand what you see in her.”
“Shelly’s cool. She’s a free spirit. She isn’t all hung up on material things.”
“The way we are. Is that what you mean?”
“Mom, you don’t have to be so defensive. I didn’t say that. Did I say that?”
“You’ve been looking down your noses at us since the day you walked in. Shelly despises us.”
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it is. Why don’t you just admit it?”
“You despise her so why don’t you admit that? Take a look at yourselves. Dad works to make money so you can buy, buy, buy. His employees scrape out a living at minimum wage and he reaps the profits. Are you proud of it?”
“Yes, I am. And why not? He’s worked hard to get where he is. He provides jobs and benefits for hundreds of people who’re devoted to him. Most of them have been with him for over fifteen years so they must not feel too downtrodden.”
“Shit, have you ever really talked to those guys? Do you have any idea what their lives are like? You pat yourselves on the back for doing good deeds, but what does that amount to? You and your hoitytoity girlfriends have ‘charity luncheons,’ raising a pittance for whatever tidy little cause has taken your fancy. What difference does it make in the overall scheme of things? None of you put yourselves on the line. You’re safe and you’re smug and you wouldn’t dream of dirtying your hands with the real problems out there.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you. You talk about safe and smug. You’ve had everything handed to you. You blew off your education and now you’re playing house, thinking you’re a grown-up when you haven’t accepted a shred of responsibility for yourself or Shelly or even that poor son of hers. What have you done that makes you think you’re superior?”
“I’ll tell you what we’ve done. We’re civil rights activists. You didn’t know that, did you? Because you never bothered to ask about our beliefs. We’ve marched in support of Freedom Rides, desegregating bus terminals and restrooms and water fountains in the South…”
Deborah was taken aback. “You went to Washington, D.C.?” “Well, no. There was a rally in San Francisco. There were hundreds of us. You and Dad are sheep. You’d go along with anything just to avoid making waves. You’ve never stood up for anything…”
She could feel a flash of temper. “Watch yourself, Greg. None of your political rhetoric has anything to do with what’s going on here so don’t muddy the waters. You’ve dropped a bomb in our laps and we’re doing what we can to adjust to the situation. You and Shelly don’t have the right to abuse and insult us.”
Shawn tore into the kitchen again, ru
Shawn stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t accustomed to reprimands. He looked from her to Greg. His face crumpled and he burst into tears, his mouth coming open in a howl so profound there wasn’t any sound at first. He clutched his penis for comfort, perhaps realizing for the first time how vulnerable he was without clothes on. Deborah couldn’t even bear to look at him. When his tears failed to have the desired effect, he added screams. “I hate you. I want my mama. I want my mama.”
Deborah waited for his tantrum to subside, but he just revved it up a notch, the tone of his screams climbing up the scale.
Greg said, “Hey, hey, hey,” doing what he could to calm him, trying to reason and explain while Shawn collapsed on the kitchen floor. He lay on his back and kicked his feet hard, catching Deborah’s ankle in the process.
“Shit,” she said, knowing she’d be bruised for a month.
Shelly appeared in the door, the picture of righteous indignation. Her face was puffy and her hair was matted from sleep. She took one look at Shawn and turned on Deborah. “What did you do to him? You have no right. How dare you lay a hand on my child? I won’t have you interfering with my discipline.”
Adopting a pleasant tone, Deborah said, “What discipline, Shelly? All I did was tell him to stop ru