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‘That’s a twenty-five-million-dollar item, baby.’
‘It is. And let’s just leave it at that.’
‘OK, sweetheart, while you’re leaving it at that, one more thing.’ I breathed deeply and deliberately into the phone while awaiting his umpteenth request. I mouthed, ‘So sorry!’ to Peter. He shook his head and mouthed, ‘Don’t worry.’ He closed the book and walked over to the large box next to the coffee table.
‘And Goodman understands that he is to mention her lawyer …’
Peter was now riffling through the HOUSEHOLD EMERGENCY SUPPLIES box. Out came a Department of Homeland Security pamphlet, which he glanced at and threw back in the box. Next, he pulled out an Israeli gas mask, took it out of its protective plastic bag and started reading the instructions.
‘Yes, Leon, we will mention you by name and have the rolling video of you that you like, not the one on the windy day where your hair looks like Don King’s …’
Peter put on the gas mask. Then he pulled out a full-body, orange bio-terror fall-out suit, checked the label, held it up against his shoulders and anchored it down with his chin pushed into his neck.
The front door slammed. It was only two o’clock in the afternoon. I knew Carolina was in the kitchen, Yvette was still in the park with both younger children, and Dylan was in school. No one usually came through the door unannounced. I stretched my head around to the front hall while Leon began explaining exactly which video of himself he wanted us to use.
Phillip’s overcoat flew across the foyer. Shit. Just after lunch and Phillip is home? I knew he wasn’t travelling and he had never once come home like this in the middle of the day without calling. He walked into the living room with a man I’d never seen before only to find Peter with a gas mask on and the orange suit.
‘Jamie, what in God’s name is …?’
Peter pulled the gas mask off. His turn to have Don King hair. He politely put his hand out to Phillip.
‘No, no!’ I screamed at him.
Peter stopped dead in his tracks and gave me a ‘What the hell, lady? I’m just introducing myself here!’ look.
From my cell phone: ‘You don’t have that shot, baby? The one I mean?’
‘No. I mean not you, Leon. I do, Leon. I know exactly what you mean. I was just …’ I waved my hand for Peter to come sit down right here, now, young man! I pointed to his chair. ‘You want your hair flat like in the shot where you’re wearing the trench coat and yellow silk scarf and matching silk socks – not like the one where it looks like a huge Frisbee. I remember. Is that all?’
Phillip shook his head and walked down the hall with his guest. Then the doors of his study closed behind him.
‘All right, Leon. Thanks for the confirmation on Theresa. Goodbye.’
I hung up the phone and breathed out deeply.
‘I’m sorry,’ Peter said. ‘I was just trying to be courteous …’
‘No. I’m the one who has to apologize. It’s just this big story again, and I wanted to introduce you to my husband in calmer circumstances.’
‘I see.’
‘So sorry to interrupt again, Peter.’ I stood up. ‘I just need to check on him. Excuse me just for a second.’ I tiptoed across the living room and put my ear against the sliding doors.
‘Damnit, Allan. I left the papers here to keep them out of the office. Obviously.’
‘So where are they now? If you kept them here, they better be here.’
Allan who? I knocked on the door and heard a lamp smash on the floor. The pocket doors slid open a notch and my normally composed husband put his face through the minimal crack he had opened.
‘Yes?’
‘Phillip, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon on a work day. You give me no warning that you’re coming home. Why are you here? Who are you with?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘I heard you talking to someone named Allan.’
‘Oh, him.’
‘Yes, him. Allan.’ Still no acknowledgement from my husband. ‘Why are you being so weird, Phillip? This is our home.’
‘Why are you being so weird? What is the deal with the guy trying on the orange suit?’
‘I’ll explain later. Why are you home?’
‘Some papers I need to find. In my study.’
‘And this Allan guy is helping you find them?’
‘Yes. He’s helping me find them. Yes. Are we done now? I’m sorry, honey, but I’m really stressed out. Would it be possible to be left alone from here on in? Actually two Diet Cokes would be great. With limes. On the sides of the glass. Don’t drench them in the Diet Coke.’
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