“You just don't want to think badly of her. She's been pretty honest about what she's going for.”
“Maybe she likes him,” Sari said. “Maybe she really likes the guy, but it's easier to pretend she's only interested in his bank account—so she's not setting herself up to get hurt or embarrassed if it doesn't work out.”
“The excuses you make for her—” Lucy gave a sudden lurch and swore, grabbing at Sari to steady herself. “Ouch, my ankle. Why didn't you tell me to wear sneakers?” She reached down to adjust her shoe, which had a narrow two-inch heel.
“I figured you'd know,” Sari said. “It's a walkathon, for God's sake.”
“Sneakers are for the gym,” Lucy said. “I need a heel if I want my legs to look halfway decent.”
“I’ve never seen Lucy in flat shoes,” David said, coming up on Sari's other side. He had fallen briefly behind to look at a spider-web. “She always dresses like she's on her way to a job interview.”
“You should have seen her in high school,” Sari said.
“No, he shouldn't have,” Lucy said. “No one should have.”
“Give me a break,” Sari said. “You were adorable. She wore overalls every day,” she told David.
“Overalls?” His eyebrows shot up.
“If you tell James that, I’ll kill you,” Lucy said. “And you know I can do it, because you've seen me sac a lot of rats. Sari, your days are numbered.”
“I’m trying to picture Lucy in overalls,” David said. “I just can't. It doesn't compute.”
“It wasn't a pretty sight,” Lucy said. “I was fat then and I guess I thought the overalls would hide some of it.”
“You weren't fat,” Sari said.
“Did she actually eat food back in those days?” David said. “Because she seems to have sworn off the stuff in recent years.”
“I just choose not to eat around you,” Lucy said. “The way you eat could take away anyone's appetite.”
“Ouch,” David said. “That one almost hurt.”
“Don't be mean, Lucy,” Sari said. “Not after David was so nice about coming today.”
“I’m happy to be here,” David said. “You couldn't ask for a more beautiful day.”
Sari agreed, but Lucy said, “All right, you've successfully bored me out of here. I’m going to go see if I can get a feel for Kathleen's rich boyfriend.”
“A feel for him is fine,” David said. “A feel of him might annoy your friend.”
“That was an example of the fine wit I get to enjoy for hours every day,” Lucy said to Sari.
“Lucky girl, isn't she?” David said.
Lucy snorted and fell back to wait for the others, while David and Sari walked on.
“You guys always go at each other like that?” Sari asked.
“We're alone in the lab a lot. Shooting the shit helps to pass the time. It's all supposed to be good-natured.” He shrugged. “But sometimes I think she gets a little pissed off at me for real.”
“Lucy can be a little …” She groped. “High-strung. But she's a good guy deep down.”
“Yeah, I know,” David said. “She's definitely—” He stopped and left the sentence dangling.
After they'd walked for a little while longer, Kathleen came running up to join them. “Help!” she said. “Lucy's giving Kevin a hard time about some project his company's doing that she says is bad for the environment.”
“Do you want me to go stop her?” Sari asked.
Kathleen fell into step with them. “Nah. I just wanted to escape. Kevin's fine. He can hold his own. And if he can't, maybe she'll make him think twice about destroying the environment, and it's not like that's a bad thing, right?” She reached up and pulled out her hair elastic and redid her ponytail without breaking stride. “Hey, either of you guys know why James didn't come?
“I’m sure he doesn't approve of the organization,” Sari said.
“They support a lot of behavioral research and we all know what he thinks of that.”
“Still,” Kathleen said, “he could have come for Lucy. I think—” She was interrupted by a new voice calling Sari's name, and they all stopped and turned.
Jason Smith came running up, pushing Zack in a stroller. “I was hoping you'd be here,” he said, a little out of breath. “We were late. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Sari stared at him for a moment. Then she realized everyone was waiting for her to say something, so she forced a smile, greeted him, and introduced him to the other two. Kathleen stared at him with frank appraisal, then caught Sari's eyes and pursed her mouth in a silent wolf whistle. Sari pretended not to see it.
Lucy and Kevin caught up to them as they stood there, and more introductions were made.
“Nice to meet you,” Jason said, and Lucy said, “You've met me before. We went to high school together.”
“Oh, right,” he said uncertainly.
“I looked different then,” Lucy said.
“She wore overalls and was fat,” David added.
“Shut up,” Lucy said.
“You said so yourself.”
“I know I did. Shut up anyway. You look exactly the same, Jason.”
“I’m a lot older,” he said. “And I have this.” He gestured down.
“A stroller?” Lucy said. “You must be so proud. Oh, wait, there's something in there.” She bent down and peered in. “He's cute,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“What's your connection to the cause?” she asked, as if she didn't already know.
“Zack has autism,” Jason said. “And Sari's working with him.”
“Are you now?” Lucy asked her with deliberate staginess.
Sari could have killed her. “Yes, I am.”
Kathleen said to Jason, “You're lucky. I bet Sari's amazing at what she does.”
“She's better than amazing. She's a lifesaver.”
“That sounds like our girl.” Kathleen took Kevin by the arm. “Shall we walk?”
“I’d love to,” he said, and they strode off together, well matched, both of them tall and healthy and good-looking.
Lucy watched them go and said, “I just can't get a sense of what he's really like.”
“Maybe he's an android,” David said. “Looks human but has no scent.”
“Wow,” she said. “You've actually reached new heights of nerdiness. And just when I thought you had no place to go but down.” She beckoned to him. “Come on—let's you and me go smell Kevin, just in case.” As they moved forward, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Hey, Jason, stick around after the walk. I want to see what you're like now. You were a real asshole back in high school, you know.”
She took off, her heels leaving small neat holes in the dirt path. David shrugged apologetically at the other two and followed her.
There was a pause and then Sari said, “Uh,” at the same moment that Jason said, “So I guess—” They both stopped and said, “Excuse me?” at the same moment.
“Let's keep walking,” Jason said then, with a jerk of his head.
Sari nodded and moved forward, trying to conceal her discomfort. She knew her friends had deliberately left her alone with him, and she could have slit their throats for doing it so obviously.
After a moment, Jason said, “The funny thing is, ‘Fat and wore overalls’ did it for me. I remember her now.”
“She wasn't that fat,” Sari said, a little wearily.
“It was probably just the overalls. She's certainly not fat now. Not an ounce on her.”
“No.”
“Was I really an asshole?” he said. “Is that how people remember me?”
Sari searched for a response. “Do you care?” she finally said.
He gave a short laugh. “That answers that.” She was silent and he said after a moment, “I mean, I know I wasn't a saint, or anything. I probably did some pretty shitty things. But it was high school. Who didn't? We were all just trying to impress each other, right? It was a crazy,
awful time for everybody.” Sari stayed silent. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have with him. So she didn't say anything, just let him stumble along for a few moments and then gradually fade into silence.
The park was mostly empty, except for the autism walkers, who were strung out along the path. Ultimately, they would make a big circle, ending up back at the same wide grassy field where they had cut the ribbon to start the walk—which seemed very appropriate to Sari. Years had gone by and here she was, right back where she had started, hating Jason Smith and being aroused by his very presence.
Her silence went on for too long, and Jason said, “Everything all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m glad it didn't rain. We got good weather for the walk.”
“I don't even know who the money's going to,” he said. “And, to be honest, I didn't have time to get any sponsors. It's just… I saw a flyer at the clinic. So I asked Shayda if she knew whether you were going, and she said she thought so. So I came.”
“It's a good excuse to take a walk,” she said.
“It's a good excuse to see you away from the clinic.”
Another silence. Then Sari said, “Zack's been awfully quiet.”
Jason glanced down. “He gets that way in the stroller. Very mellow and relaxed. Sometimes, when the day feels like it's been endless, I just throw him in and we walk for hours.”
She craned her neck to see into the stroller. “I think he might be asleep.”
“I wouldn't be surprised. He was up at four this morning.”
“Oh, man,” she said. “That's too early. Did he go back to sleep?”
“Neither of us did.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Constantly.”
“You should have told me he was having sleep issues. We have some strategies for dealing with them.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Like not letting him nap during the day,” she said.
“Now she tells me.” There was a pause. “I wasn't even supposed to have him today. Denise was. But she said she had to work. On a Saturday morning, she has too much work to—” He stopped.
“I’d like to meet Denise,” Sari said. “Show her what we're doing with Zack.”
“I tell her what I can,” he said. “She's not with him enough for it to matter.”
“Why isn't she?” Then: “I’m sorry. If you don't want to talk about it—”
“Are you kidding? I’m desperate to talk about it. I’m just afraid that if I start, I won't be able to stop. You may run away from me screaming.”
“I doubt it.” She instantly regretted saying that because it sounded flirtatious. But she was curious.
“We'll see,” he said. “Anyway, the thing about Denise is … How do I describe her?” He thought for a moment. “Perfect. She's perfect.”
“No one's perfect.”
“Not her, then. Her life. Her life was perfect. Up until this”— he gestured down at the stroller—”everything in her life was perfect. First of all, she's really beautiful. We met in college and she was just the most—” He stopped. “Doesn't matter. She's beautiful, is all. And smart and talented and athletic and funny and basically just good at everything. So she figured she'd be good at the mommy thing, too. Better than anyone else. Meanwhile, I didn't even want a kid. That's the real joke of this whole thing. I didn't think I was ready.” His mouth curled briefly into a humorless grin. “I’m sure you'll be shocked to hear I’m not the most mature guy in the world. Before we had Zack, I was still getting drunk a lot on the weekends and my career wasn't working out, but I kept thinking what the fuck, I was still young, I didn't have to grow up yet. But Denise just kept moving ahead. In every way she could.”
“What does she do?”
“She's a TV executive. She started as someone's assistant right out of college and kept getting promoted like every six months. And now she has her own assistant. And treats him like shit, I might add.” He swatted at a fly near his face. “Anyway, she talked me into having a kid. She said any child of ours would be amazing, and it seemed—well, it's obnoxious to say, but it seemed like a kid of ours probably would be.”
“It's not obnoxious,” Sari said.
“Yeah, it is. At any rate, she talked me into the whole thing. And when she got pregnant, she was totally into it. She did yoga and drank milk and basically just did everything right. And then Zack was born and he was a really cute baby—”
“He's still amazingly cute.”
“Yeah, I know. But pretty soon things started being weird with him.” He glanced at her. “You know how the story goes. And Denise just couldn't deal.” He thought for a moment, the two of them walking in rhythm, his fingers tapping on the stroller handlebar like he was typing. Then he said, “No, that's not fair. She tried to connect to him at first, but he kept getting worse and eventually it was easier for her to just go to work and let me or Maria take care of him. And when he got diagnosed, I think it just—” He shrugged. “You know. She had always been this golden girl and now she was failing at something.”
“It's not a question of failing,” Sari said.
“Strangely enough, I got that,” Jason said. “I didn't feel like I had failed. I just felt like I wanted to make it better. As soon as possible. But she … You know what she said to me before she moved out?”
“What?”
“She said she was too sensitive to stay. That it hurt her too much to look at him and know he'd never be like the other kids and that's why she had to go. Like the only reason I could stay with him was that I didn't care as much as she did.”
“That's kind of bullshit,” Sari said.
“Thank you for saying that. I’ve never— Uh, excuse me?” This last was to a guy who was kneeling on the pathway in front of them, tying his shoe. The guy jumped up.
“Sorry,” the guy said. “Didn't see you. Oh, hey, Sari!”
“Jeff,” she said, her heart sinking at the sight of her ex-boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you, I assume. The autism walk, right?” He kissed her on the cheek. “I was hoping I might see you here.” He looked pretty much the same as the last time she'd seen him, his back shaped like the letter C, his hair still badly cut and combed all wrong—there was even a familiar sheen of greasy perspiration on his forehead. Fortunately, he no longer looked like she had just socked him in the stomach the way he had the last time she saw him, when she had broken up with him.
It was hard not to compare him to Jason, who stood a head taller, his shoulders wide under a simple V-neck black sweater, his thick hair tousled and wavy. When his eyes caught the sun, they were this unbelievable shade of blue …
Sari suddenly realized that both men were watching her, waiting for her to say something. “I didn't know you were involved with GRAY,” she said quickly. GRAY stood for Get Rid of Autism Yesterday, the name of the organization sponsoring the event.
“Are you kidding?” Jeff said. “They've funded most of our research. I’m fairly certain I told you that.” He had an aggrieved tone to his voice, like she owed him that at least—to remember things he had told her back when they were still going out.
“Oh, right,” she said.
“So.” Jeff stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at Jason. “What brings you here?”
Sari realized she had to introduce them. “Jeff, this is—” She hesitated. “My friend. Jason Smith. Jason, Jeff Fleekstra.”
The men nodded at each other and then they started walking again, Sari sandwiched between the two of them and wildly furious at herself. Why had she made that little pause at the word “friend,” the pause that everyone knew meant someone was more than a friend? Why didn't she just say that he was a dad at the clinic?
More important, why oh why was she so desperate for Jeff to leave them alone so they could talk more?
It was wrong, all wrong, and she knew it. So, while the two men exchanged pleasantries, she worked on pulling
herself out of the daze she'd been in. Remember the history, she told herself. Remember who he is.
And, so, for the rest of the walk, she made herself remember.
IV
Arriving back at the field where they had started, Sari spotted Kathleen and Lucy settled under a shady tree. She headed their way, accompanied by Jason and his stroller. Jeff had split off at the finish line.
“Where are David and Kevin?” Sari asked when she reached the others.
“Getting food,” Kathleen said with a nod toward the distant In-N-Out Burger truck.
Jason looked at Sari. “Should I go get something for us?”
“Don't feel you have to,” she said. “If you need to take off or anything—”
“I’ve got time.”
You could tell he was waiting for Sari to give him some kind of clue, let him know if she wanted him to stick around or not. But even her friends, who thought they knew Sari pretty well, couldn't figure out what the blank look on her face meant.
Sari said, “If you want a burger, you should certainly get one.”
That seemed to be encouragement enough for Jason. “Actually, I’m starving. I’ll go see what I can find.” He left, still pushing the stroller.
Sari sat down on the grass and hugged her knees to her chest.
“God, he's cute,” Kathleen said, watching him walk away. “Totally built. But he's got a kid. Does that mean he's married?”
“Divorced,” Sari said. “About to be, anyway. But it doesn't matter. I’m not interested.”
“Why not?”
“Lucy knows. He was a jerk to Charlie. Back in high school.”
“Really?” Kathleen said. “He doesn't seem the type.”
“Well, he was. I was thinking about it all just now, during the walk—about all the awful things they used to do. Like shove the food off of Charlie's tray at lunch. Or bump into him when he was carrying something and make him spill it on himself. Or stick his stuff in someone's locker and lock it in there. They'd throw water at his crotch and act like he'd pissed himself. Stuff like that.”