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“If we knew that, would we have to ask you in such a roundabout way?” Lisa said, and Judah made a sound of exasperation.
“Dearest one, I ambeggingyou to shut up,” he said, his hands folded together in a praying gesture. Lisa smiled at him and then blew a raspberry.
“See this,” Abi said, gesturing with her wine glass. “This is fucking traumatic.”
“Abigail,” Judah said, putting his hands on the counter and giving her the very seriousI am here for you and I am listeningface he had given her in fifth grade when she got her first period and Lisa was away at a conference. “This isn’t how we’d planned to discuss this with you—”
“Oh, youplanned—”
“Tone, Abi,” Lisa said automatically.
“Mom,” Abi said back, “boundaries.”
“You have every right to feel upset,” Judah said, still trying to use his therapy voice.
“Wait, is this why Leah skipped dinner? Did she know you were going to accost me with some weirdo speech about hypothetical childhood trauma?” Abi said, feeling actual betrayal at that thought. Not that her sister had known her parents were going to spring this bizarre line of questioning on her, but that she’d known and had the audacity to skip out when Abi could have used her help.
“As far as I know, your sister is having a high pain day,” Lisa said stiffly—Lisa always got stiff talking about Leah’s medical issues.
“Oh,” Abi said, mollified but still feeling defensive.
“Getting back to what we were talking about… with regards to trauma,” Judah tried again. Abi made a purposefully pained face. “You can have two perfect parents and still experience trauma even when your parents are trying their best—that’s what we’re trying to say.”
“Dad, seriously, can we not? I’ve had a rotten week, okay? The coffee pot I ordered to replace the one I broke on Monday is stuck in delivery hell, and I’ve been up every day at chapped-ass-o’clock because of the farkaktehtree cutter people out back, and now you want to talk about trauma that I may or may not have experienced but somehow don’t know about, and I’m justtired, right? Can I just eat my feelings, and then you let me go home, and we pretend none of this ever happened?”
“Why don’t you ask Ilan about the tree cutting if it’s bothering you so much?” Lisa said out of nowhere, as though this were the most obvious, rational thing to say at that moment. Abi looked at her, dazed.
“That’s not a terrible idea, actually,” Judah said, nodding. “He could probably do something about it.”
“What are you talking about?” Abi said, wondering if she could just open her own bottle of wine and sip directly from it with one of the loopy straws Lisa saved in the junk drawer from the twins’ fifth birthday.
“Efrat and Son is the company that won the bid from the city,” Judah explained, but there was a question in his tone, and Abi felt like kicking herself. Of course, she knew that. She’d been to the same zoning board meeting he had.
“I knew that,” she said— because she did— but she just hadn’t put it together that Ilan wasthatIlan Efrat.
“This is why you need more support, dear,” Lisa said, “so you remember things.”
I don’t need support, she thought mutinously, taking a large sip from her wine glass, she had her day planner. She was going to call Ilan as soon as this meal was over and let him know exactly what she thought of his day job. Then she wondered if that was the wine talking.
“Is it even worth it to speak to them directly?” Abi asked her father, choosing to officially ignore Lisa’s comment, “If they won the bid, would the county set their schedule?”
“I’m not sure, but if you didn’t want to speak to him, you could just call the Town Planner’s office. Damasia Molina is very personable.”
“I was so sad we couldn’t go to her wedding. Kirsten was such a sweet girl,” Lisa put in, and Abi gave her mother a long, long look.
“You don’t think that would have been awkward?” Abi said, it should have been obvious, but apparently it wasn’t. Lisa looked at her blankly. Abi waved her hand in the general direction of the house across the street. “Shoshana?”
“Kirsten and Damasia met more than six months after Shoshana and Kirsten broke up,” Lisa said, slightly defensive, but her tone said Abi was borrowing trouble. “Shoshana told Judah she was fine with us going to the wedding–”
“Dad you didnotask Shoshana’s permission to go to their wedding,” Abi said, appalled now. Judah gestured to Lisa helplessly.
“We ran into her at the Farmer’s Market right after we got the invitation. I wasn’t thinking when I mentioned it.”
“And she said it was fine!” Lisa said, “But we ended up not being able to go because your father had a conference or something… I forget. Jude, why didn’t we go?”
“Who can remember?” Judah said, waving his hand in a way that made Abi think he likely made an excuse because he wasn’t clueless and knew just because Shoshanasaidit was fine didn’t mean it was actually fine.
“And, anyway, Kirsten is so happy now that Damasia is pregnant,” Lisa said still pointedly oblivious.
