Emma Cline - Stories

LINDA WAS INSIDE, ON HER phoneto who, this early? From the hot tub, John watched her pace in her robe and an old swimsuit in a faded tropical print that probably belonged to one of the girls. It was nice to drift a little in the water, to glide to the other side of the tub, holding his coffee above the waterline, the jets churning away. The fig tree was bare, had been for a month now, but the persimmon trees were full. The kids should bake cookies when they get here, he thought, persimmon cookies. Wasnt that what Linda used to make, when the kids were little? Or what elsejam, maybe? All this fruit going to waste, it was disgusting. Hed get the yard guy to pick a few crates of persimmons before the kids came, so that all theyd have to do was bake them. Linda would know where to find the recipe.

The screen door banged. Linda folded her robe, climbed into the hot tub.

Sashas flights delayed.

Till?

Probably wont land until four or five.

Holiday traffic would be a nightmare then, coming back from the airportan hour there, then two hours back, if not more. Sasha didnt have her license, couldnt rent a car, not that she would think to offer.

And she said Andrews not coming, Linda said, making a face. Linda was convinced that Sashas boyfriend was married, though shed never brought it up with Sasha.

Linda fished a leaf out of the water and flicked it into the yard, then settled in with the book shed brought. Linda read a lot: She read books about angels and saints and rich white women from the past with eccentric habits. She read books by the mothers of school shooters and books by healers who said that cancer was really a self-love problem. Now it was a memoir by a girl whod been kidnapped at the age of eleven. Held in a backyard shed for almost ten years.

Her teeth were in good shape, Linda said. Considering. She says she scraped her teeth every night with her fingernails. Then he finally gave her a toothbrush.

Jesus, John said, what seemed like the right response, but Linda was already back to her book, bobbing peacefully. When the jets turned off, John waded over in silence to turn them on again.

Sam was the first of the kids to arrive, driving up from Milpitas in the certified pre-owned sedan he had purchased the summer before. He had called multiple times before buying the car to weigh the pros and consthe mileage on this used model versus leasing a newer one and how soon Audis needed servicingand it amazed John that Linda had time for this, their thirty-year-old sons car frettings, but she always took his calls, going into the other room and leaving John wherever he was, alone with whatever he was doing. Lately John had started watching a television show about two older women living together, one uptight, the other a free spirit. The good thing was that there seemed to be an infinite number of episodes, an endless accounting of their mild travails in an unnamed beach town. Time didnt seem to apply to these women, as if they were already dead, though he supposed the show was meant to take place in Santa Barbara.

Chloe arrived next, down from Sacramento, and she had driven, she said, at least half an hour with the gas light on. Maybe longer. She was doing an internship. Unpaid, naturally. They still covered her rent; she was the youngest.

Whered you fill up?

I didnt yet, she said. Ill do it later.

You shouldve stopped, John said. Its dangerous to drive on empty. And your front tire is almost flat, he went on, but Chloe wasnt listening. She was already on her knees in the gravel driveway, clutching tight to the dog.

Oh, my little honey, she said, her glasses fogged up, holding Zero to her chest. Little dear.

Zero was always shivering, which one of the kids had looked up and said was normal for Jack Russells, but it still unnerved John.

LINDA WENT TO PICK UP Sasha because John wasnt supposed to drive long distances with his backsitting made it spasmand, anyway, Linda said she was happy to do it. Happy to get a little time alone with Sasha. Zero tried to follow Linda to the car, bumping against her legs.

He cant be out without a leash, Linda said. Be gentle with him, okay?

John found the leash, careful, when he clipped it to the harness, to avoid touching Zeros raised stitches. They looked spidery, sinister. Zero was breathing hard. For another five weeks, they were supposed to make sure he didnt roll over, didnt jump, didnt run. He had to be on a leash whenever he went outside, had to be accompanied at all times. Otherwise the pacemaker might get knocked loose. John hadnt known dogs could get pacemakers, didnt even like dogs inside the house. Now here he was, shuffling after Zero while he sniffed one tree, then another.

Zero limped slowly to the fence line, stood still for a moment, then kept going. It was two acres, the backyard, big enough that you felt insulated from the neighbors, though one of them had called the police once, because of the dogs barking. These people, up in one anothers business, trying to control barking dogs. Zero stopped to consider a deflated soccer ball, so old it looked fossilized, then kept moving. Finally he squatted, miserable, looking back at John as he took a creamy little shit. It was a startling, unnatural green.

Inside the animal was some unseen machinery keeping him alive, keeping his animal heart pumping. Robot dog, John crooned to himself, kicking dirt over the shit.

Four oclock. Sashas plane would just be landing, Linda circling arrivals. It was not too early for a glass of wine.

Chloe? Are you interested?

She was not. Im applying to jobs, she said, cross-legged on her bed. See? She turned the laptop toward him for a moment, some document up on the screen, though he heard a TV show playing in the background. She still seemed like a teenager, though shed graduated college almost two years ago. At her age, John had already been working for Mike, had his own crew by the time he was thirty. He was thirty when Sam was born. Now kids got a whole extra decade to dowhat? Float around, do these internships.

He tried again. Are you sure? We can sit outside, its not bad.

Chloe didnt look up from the laptop. Can you close the door, she said, tonelessly.

Sometimes their rudeness left him breathless.

He put together a snack for himself. Shards of cheese, cutting around the mold. Salami. The last of the olives, shriveled in their brine. He took his paper plate outside and sat in one of the patio chairs. The cushions felt damp, probably rotting from the inside. He wore his jeans, his white socks, his white sneakers, a knitted sweaterLindasthat seemed laughably and obviously a womans. He didnt worry about that anymore, how silly he might look. Who would care? Zero came to sniff his hand; he fed him a piece of salami. When the dog was calm, quiet, he wasnt so bad. He should put Zeros leash on, but it was inside, and, anyway, Zero seemed mellow, no danger of him running around. The backyard was green, winter green. There was a fire pit under the big oak tree which one of the kids had dug in high school and ringed with rocks, but now it was filled with leaves and trash. Probably Sam, he thought, and shouldnt Sam clean it up, clean all this up? Anger lit him up suddenly, then passed just as quickly. What was he going to do, yell at him? The kids just laughed now if he got angry. Another piece of salami for Zero, a piece for himself. It was cold and tasted like the refrigerator, like the plastic tray it had come on. Zero stared at him with those marble eyes, exhaling his hungry, meaty breath until John shooed him away.