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.The closing of one small art gallery hardly compared to that.So why was my stomach in knots?Well, I supposed that might be the pregnancy talking.Really, though, for all intents and purposes, I didn t feel like a mom-to-be.Other than forgoing myglasses of wine in the evening, I hadn t changed a single thing.I knew I d have to make some prettybig adjustments before long, but at the moment it sort of felt like some strange hypothetical game.Orthat health class assignment in high school where you have to carry around a bag of flour for a week and pretend it s a baby.I knew it was real, and I knew it was serious.But I suppose my brain was trying to take things onesmall, manageable bite at a time.And considering I hadn t even seriously though about having afamily until the charity dinner, I thought I was handling it pretty well.Daniel was, to my immense relief, not becoming ridiculously clingy or over-protective as timepassed.Not that I thought he would, exactly.But it was still nice to know I could continue living mylife without him hovering.Finally, one morning, I took my opportunity to begin an actual conversation. How are you feeling? he said, the same as every morning these days. Fine, I said. How about you? He eyed me over the rim of his coffee mug. & fine? he replied, not sounding terribly convincing. Really? was my only response.He sighed, setting down his mug. I know what you re thinking, he said. And the answer is, Idon t know.I don t know if I m going to see him again. It wasn t& I knew I had to approach this carefully. It wasn t& terrible, was it? It wasn t terrible, Daniel agreed. Certainly.He could have been outright hostile.Instead, hewas just condescending as usual. Well, I said, because I didn t know what else to say.He was right.Walter gave me the distinctimpression of looking down his nose at us. He thinks it s all right for him to be patronizing, because he s my father. Daniel s mouth twistedinto a sort of bitter half-smile. Do you know, one time when I told him to stop patronizing me, heproceeded to give me a lesson about the root of the word? Yes - I know it literally means to act likea father, but that isn t an excuse for treating adults like children who don t know any better.He justthinks it is.And nobody s ever going to convince him otherwise, so it s not even worth trying. I couldn t keep myself from laughing. I m sorry, I said, as Daniel looked at me askance. I just, Ican t imagine anything more patronizing than someone explaining the definition of the word patronizing to someone who just accused them of being exactly that.It s like he somehow made theconcept of patronizing crawl up its own ass. Yes, said Daniel, letting himself laugh a little bit. Yes - that s exactly it.That s my father in anutshell. I drummed my fingers on the table. Well, you know, I think& I didn t know what I thought,actually. I have to go to work. Daniel cut me off mid-thought, snatching his keys off of the coat rack andheading for the door. By all means, if you come up with a way to make him less insufferable, let meknow. *** Didn t you tell them you d have the biography done by the end of the year? I said one evening,over dinner.I could tell by the expression on his face that he d completely forgotten. Yes, he said, evenly. Yes, I did. I think maybe we should get back to work, I said. We can skip over all the childhood stuff fornow, if you d rather not talk about it. Daniel took in a sharp breath through his nose.This, I knew, was always a prelude to somethingimportant. I was actually thinking, he said, maybe it would be useful to talk to my father for thebook. I looked at him skeptically. Don t you think so? he said, mildly, as if the last conversation we d had about it hadn t endedthe way it did.I d been left with the distinct impression he d rather jam a pencil in his eye than talk tohis dad again. I guess, sure, I said. If you& I mean, if that s what you really want. You certainly don t have to, he said.I shifted in my seat. No, it s fine, I said. I like that idea, actually. He smiled. If he gets insufferable, don t hesitate to tell him to fuck off. I m definitely not going to do that, I replied. But it s nice to know I have your blessing. *** I don t know how much I ll be able to help you, Walter was saying, as he sat down on the sofa. But I guess I m honored. I smiled, opening my notebook. I just thought it might be interesting to get a different perspectiveon Daniel, I said. Especially his formative years. Walter shrugged. He was a pretty normal kid. I surveyed the man in front of me.It was absolutely eerie to look at him; like a strange vision of analternate future, where Daniel suddenly decided to start talking like a normal person instead ofsomeone giving a dissertation. Normal, I said. How do you define normal exactly? Walter shrugged again.I had a feeling that a pattern was developing. You know, just, more orless what you expect a kid to be.He wasn t as, uh& he wasn t as driven as his sister. He lookedslightly& not uncomfortable, exactly, but something [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.The closing of one small art gallery hardly compared to that.So why was my stomach in knots?Well, I supposed that might be the pregnancy talking.Really, though, for all intents and purposes, I didn t feel like a mom-to-be.Other than forgoing myglasses of wine in the evening, I hadn t changed a single thing.I knew I d have to make some prettybig adjustments before long, but at the moment it sort of felt like some strange hypothetical game.Orthat health class assignment in high school where you have to carry around a bag of flour for a week and pretend it s a baby.I knew it was real, and I knew it was serious.But I suppose my brain was trying to take things onesmall, manageable bite at a time.And considering I hadn t even seriously though about having afamily until the charity dinner, I thought I was handling it pretty well.Daniel was, to my immense relief, not becoming ridiculously clingy or over-protective as timepassed.Not that I thought he would, exactly.But it was still nice to know I could continue living mylife without him hovering.Finally, one morning, I took my opportunity to begin an actual conversation. How are you feeling? he said, the same as every morning these days. Fine, I said. How about you? He eyed me over the rim of his coffee mug. & fine? he replied, not sounding terribly convincing. Really? was my only response.He sighed, setting down his mug. I know what you re thinking, he said. And the answer is, Idon t know.I don t know if I m going to see him again. It wasn t& I knew I had to approach this carefully. It wasn t& terrible, was it? It wasn t terrible, Daniel agreed. Certainly.He could have been outright hostile.Instead, hewas just condescending as usual. Well, I said, because I didn t know what else to say.He was right.Walter gave me the distinctimpression of looking down his nose at us. He thinks it s all right for him to be patronizing, because he s my father. Daniel s mouth twistedinto a sort of bitter half-smile. Do you know, one time when I told him to stop patronizing me, heproceeded to give me a lesson about the root of the word? Yes - I know it literally means to act likea father, but that isn t an excuse for treating adults like children who don t know any better.He justthinks it is.And nobody s ever going to convince him otherwise, so it s not even worth trying. I couldn t keep myself from laughing. I m sorry, I said, as Daniel looked at me askance. I just, Ican t imagine anything more patronizing than someone explaining the definition of the word patronizing to someone who just accused them of being exactly that.It s like he somehow made theconcept of patronizing crawl up its own ass. Yes, said Daniel, letting himself laugh a little bit. Yes - that s exactly it.That s my father in anutshell. I drummed my fingers on the table. Well, you know, I think& I didn t know what I thought,actually. I have to go to work. Daniel cut me off mid-thought, snatching his keys off of the coat rack andheading for the door. By all means, if you come up with a way to make him less insufferable, let meknow. *** Didn t you tell them you d have the biography done by the end of the year? I said one evening,over dinner.I could tell by the expression on his face that he d completely forgotten. Yes, he said, evenly. Yes, I did. I think maybe we should get back to work, I said. We can skip over all the childhood stuff fornow, if you d rather not talk about it. Daniel took in a sharp breath through his nose.This, I knew, was always a prelude to somethingimportant. I was actually thinking, he said, maybe it would be useful to talk to my father for thebook. I looked at him skeptically. Don t you think so? he said, mildly, as if the last conversation we d had about it hadn t endedthe way it did.I d been left with the distinct impression he d rather jam a pencil in his eye than talk tohis dad again. I guess, sure, I said. If you& I mean, if that s what you really want. You certainly don t have to, he said.I shifted in my seat. No, it s fine, I said. I like that idea, actually. He smiled. If he gets insufferable, don t hesitate to tell him to fuck off. I m definitely not going to do that, I replied. But it s nice to know I have your blessing. *** I don t know how much I ll be able to help you, Walter was saying, as he sat down on the sofa. But I guess I m honored. I smiled, opening my notebook. I just thought it might be interesting to get a different perspectiveon Daniel, I said. Especially his formative years. Walter shrugged. He was a pretty normal kid. I surveyed the man in front of me.It was absolutely eerie to look at him; like a strange vision of analternate future, where Daniel suddenly decided to start talking like a normal person instead ofsomeone giving a dissertation. Normal, I said. How do you define normal exactly? Walter shrugged again.I had a feeling that a pattern was developing. You know, just, more orless what you expect a kid to be.He wasn t as, uh& he wasn t as driven as his sister. He lookedslightly& not uncomfortable, exactly, but something [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]