Perry
It had finally happened. His whole family had lost their minds. First over Grandma Elsie, whom they let roam unsupervised throughout the house and gardens like some kind of aged toddler on the loose. Who could at any minute roll one of her well-heeled feet on the edge of an over-mulched rosebed and topple to her death. Well, more likely to a broken hip. Followed by indeterminate bedrest, followed by subsequent pneumonia, thereby guaranteeing convalescence. Same thing as death, really. It was all there in the insurance statistics, documented warnings available to millions. But not his family. They kept to a strict diet of euphoric ignorance.
As if that weren’t bad enough, now Jake was engaged. To a woman from another country whose citizenship was a complete mystery. Who was a single parent of a child who did not speak, yet another puzzle that his family seemed perfectly happy to add to their flourishing do-not-ask list. A child who may or may not have a father lurking in the wings, and for whom Jake would now be financially responsible. There was a term for this in Perry’s line of work: damage offset. There was still time for Jake to employ it.
Their mother, Jane, had called that morning as Perry rodethe train to work. The family knew better than to bother him on weekdays. So he’d taken the call, wondering if something had happened to Elsie. “Can you believe it?” his mother had cried.
Perry had slapped his laptop shut, straining to understand her through the tears and hiccups. “What is it? What happened?”
“Jake and Olivia. What else would I be talking about?”
Leave it to his mother to start the conversation with a greeting inducing cardiac arrhythmia. “No, Mom. No, I cannot believe it.”
Jane paused. “Now, Perry. This is good news.”
“Is it?” Then, “What do we even know about her? For that matter, what does Jake know? Haven’t they been dating mere months?”
“Six months. I’ll grant you that. It’s not long. But Daddy and I knew each other less than a year.”
“That was another time,” Perry reminded her.
“Oh, please. It was hardly the Dark Ages.”
“Mom, my train is approaching a low-signal area. I’m afraid I’m going to lose the call.”
“Hang on, I just need a moment.” As if Perry could signal the conductor and slow the train. “I’d like to host a party for them. Just a little engagement shindig this weekend. Are you and Amelia free?”
Perry did not understand the posthaste urge to celebrate a union, one half of whom his family had met only twice. Himself, just once. But he understood all too well the nature of his mother’s invitations. They didn’t require RSVPs. The fact was, they didn’t allow for them. You were summoned: if you weren’t dead, you came.
“I’m working on the Super Bowl contract, and it’s due that following Monday. But I’m sure Emma and Amelia will go.”
“Perry. You work too much. It’s a Saturday. Spend time with your family.”
“I know, Mother, but you see…” Perry hesitated. There was no winning this conversation. “I’ll do my best to make it.”
“Wonderful. And Perry—a simple request, darling.”
Perry sighed. “Yes?”
“Jake is excited. He’s finally come home. He’s landed a job, and he’s got a great girl. Let’s not shit on his parade.”
Perry was used to his mother’s profanity, if he tended to avoid it himself. A cultured and elegant woman, she was also not afraid to be direct. She’d recently emailed him an article from theNew York Timesthat claimed people who cursed with gusto were intelligent. He’d not bothered to read beyond the headline. According to that criterion, Jane was pure genius. “All right, Mother. I’ll fetter the urge.”
“Thank you. And honey? Try and be fun. It’d be good for you.”
Didn’t she meanhavefun? As the train hurtled south toward the city, Perry stared out the window. Fun was well and good, but it did not make a successful man. Just look at him and Jake. Perry was stable, accomplished, productive. Jake was immature and given to wanderlust and impulse. A victim of his own inertia who still rented an apartment and probably had less than one hundred dollars in his bank account. And yet people flocked to him. Soaked up his silly stories about ridiculous trips he took, like the one Perry must’ve heard a hundred times about hitchhiking across the Australian outback by car and camel, a two-day trip that turned into two weeks because he had not yet captured the perfect shot of a red desert sunrise. A place where he had to inspect the tent for snakes at night and shake scorpions out of his boots in the morning, butit was all worth itto see the Southern Cross constellation rising over the ebony horizon. The words were lost on Perry, who excused himself from the telling each time, but not before noting the expressions on people’s faces. Jake drewpeople as effortlessly as Perry seemed to bore them. It was a fact that irked him today as much as it had when they were kids.
Still, he would do as his mother asked and show up at the party. Hell, he’d even bring a good wine. That was the kind of man Perry was. He still had a gorgeous bottle of Three Rivers Shiraz from his and Amelia’s Barossa Valley trip last year to South Australia. But he would not put a cork in voicing his opinions or trying to protect Jake. Because that was also the kind of man Perry was.
What he needed was to get Jake alone. Had he any thought of adopting the child once they were married? Had he even consulted a lawyer? What if Olivia was just using Jake for a green card? Perry did not concern himself with where this woman heralded from, or what the estranged father’s status was. That was her concern. Whatwashis concern was the legal and financial responsibility for his brother that came with marriage and a child. And in that vein, what on earth did his little brother know about parenting? Jake was no more than a large kid himself. Who after years of wandering about the country, working as a bike messenger in LA, then a ranger in Yosemite, then an IT consultant for a friend’s startup, had finally stood still in one geographic location long enough to land a real job. If you counted working for a nonprofit nature center as real work. Even so, he’d barely sat down at his new desk at the Audubon and was already talking about squandering his limited vacation time on a honeymoon.
Perry sniffed. What Jake needed was a girl in finance who was allergic to pets and exotic travel. The kind of girl to squelch the worst of his impulses and keep him on the straight and narrow. And what did he do but dig up a woman with a young child. A starving artist who rescued even hungrier dogs. (Come to think of it, perhaps Olivia fancied herself as rescuing Jake? Perry had read once that people who rescued strays identified with the urge to berescued themselves. Sort of like hoarders trying to fill a void. He’d have to share this with Amelia later.)
And what did their family do upon being gobsmacked with the news? Why, throw another party! Perry could not abide it. But that would have to wait. His train was pulling into Grand Central, and he headed to the 6 train.
At exactly 8:55 Perry strode through the front doors of McElroy, Greenspan, and Luxe. In his tenth-floor corner office he flipped through the folders on his desk that Maura must have left for him to review before she went home for the night. First, the World Figure Skating Championships at TD Garden in Boston. He grabbed a green Post-it off his desk. Green was the color for “green light”: file progressing as expected. Next was the country summer concert series held at Foxwoods Casino. Perry grabbed a yellow Post-it. He’d reviewed the expected ticket sales and show details. But country-western events were famous for high intoxication numbers and arrests. He needed to go over those figures again. Last was his baby, the gig Perry had helped to secure for the firm three years ago and helmed ever since: the halftime show for the Super Bowl. No one but he and his select team had worked on it this year. He ran his hand across the folder front. Super Bowl shows were the crème de la crème of risk analysis. Pyrotechnic accidents. Drunk and disorderlys. Inclement weather. Ticket fraud. Crowd control. Perry had amassed a team of talent in the firm to cover all the bases. They were still in the process of writing up the final draft.
By the time Maura arrived, Perry had reviewed the music festival file and emailed the others his updates. “Good morning, Mr. Goodwin.”
