Everybody Has Everything

Je

“We saw that show in Vie

James and Je

Ana put the book down on the table. She wondered if the girls had seen it. It seemed to her now as inappropriate as pornography. She drank her wine quickly.

“Uncle James, how come we never see you on TV anymore?” said Sophie.

James pulled Fi

“I got fired,” said James.

“On fire?” asked Fi

“Why?” asked Sophie.

“That’s a complicated question.…” interjected Je

“It’s okay, Je

“I know. I could be on TV,” said Sophie.

“Sophie was amazing in the Thanksgiving play. I know all parents think their kids are great on stage, but it was really striking. The teacher said she has a natural aptitude for theater,” said Je

“Now we’re adding acting lessons to the roster,” said Mike, in the part of exasperated father.

“I played an aboriginal person,” said Sophie. Ana laughed.

Sophie snatched a remote control from the coffee table. She hit a button and a large, wood-framed abstract painting—red and blue swirls on red and blue swirls—moved to the side with a gentle whoosh. A large flat panel TV appeared.

“Jesus, Mike, how James Bond,” said James.

“I know. It’s extravagant. But now or never, right?”

“Sophie, we don’t need the TV on,” said Je

But Sophie clicked, and the TV came to life. There, across the screen, was James’s former colleague, Ariel, each strand of her long straight hair clearly outlined with the perfectionist brush of high-definition television.

“I worked with her—” said James.

“What? Is this your show?” asked Je

Mike said, “Sophie—turn it off—”

“No! Let’s see Uncle James!”

Ariel was sitting in a hotel room across from a famous singer, a block-headed young man with one raised eyebrow.

“Who’s that?” asked Ana.

“The new Frank Sinatra,” said James.

“Really?”

“He thinks he is,” snapped James.

Ariel was breathless. “Just tell me, seriously—is this song about any particular girl? Or is it about girls in general?”

“This is news?” James shouted. “This is documentary?”

The singer chortled, winking and shifting in his seat, his nonanswer ru

“This is a fucking national news program,” said James.

“James, watch the language—” James turned from Mike’s pious face.

“Soph, turn it off—” said Je

Ana placed her wine carefully on the table. On the screen, Ariel threw back her head and giggled. Je

“You can’t be surprised, James. TV’s always been this way. You were just this unusual little exception,” said Ana. She gestured to the blank screen. “This is what people want.”

“People don’t know what they want. Give them shit and they’ll eat it,” said James. Olivia giggled into her hands.

“Jimmy! Language!” said Mike. The painting moved slowly and smoothly, until finally it had covered the entire TV with red blur.

At the door, Fi

“Olivia’s too old for these,” she said. The bag rattled with puzzle pieces and Legos. Something made a few electronic grunts, then silenced.

This was how people did it, then—an ongoing exchange.

Mike appeared, put his arm around Je

“Not in your socks,” said Je

“Hey, Jimmy,” said Mike, clearing his throat, alerting James to the fact that a speech had been prepared. “Listen, if you need any—you know. If we can do anything for you guys. With Fi

“Thank you,” said James. “It’s going all right, but thank you.” His brother was never good with tenderness. It didn’t suit him. James wanted to point out that they lived only a half hour from each other but got together maybe three times a year, so how much, really, could they help? But alongside that first thought, James found himself moved by his brother’s awkward gesture. He tried to picture a future of commonality, devoid of the decades-long strangeness.

He rode on this idea as they gathered and moved toward the car at the top of the circular driveway. James knew that Mike and Je

Je

“I’ll resend you the video card!” called Je

“Great!” Ana called back.

Fi

“Did you get that video?” asked James.

“Yeah, I did,” said Ana.

“Me, too.”

Now was the time where they would usually dismember the evening for a solid hour or two. James would go first, noting how Je