The Neighbors Are Watching (14 page)

At least Kevin was attracted to girls—Dick managed to ascertain that much from his limited heart-to-heart talks with his son. And when it seemed Kevin, who had remained girlfriend-less for his entire adolescence so far, was lacking interest in that area, Dorothy had done her duty by both her husband and her son and told Dick about the random bits of strictly heterosexual pornography that she turned up in Kevin’s room from time to time. She found it revolting, of course, but knew it was important that he had it. And so she never said anything about it to Kevin and only faintly protested to Dick—just enough so that he’d feel reassured.

Well, no worry about that now, was there? Kevin had certainly convinced them both of his attraction to girls. It was why Dorothy was sitting in the waiting room right now, prepared to try to convince some Arab doctor that she needed something for the pain. Because suddenly, out of the clear blue sky and with such a wealth of others to choose from, her oversensitive, underachieving son had managed to fall helplessly in love (or whatever he was confusing with love) with an uppity pregnant girl who had no business even being in the neighborhood in the first place. What’s more, that girl had managed to persuade her son to take on a baby that he wasn’t even responsible for. And all of this at
seventeen
.

Dorothy remembered thinking that Diana had blown in on an ill wind, creating a general feeling of uneasiness for everyone. It couldn’t have been more than a month ago that Diana stood in her kitchen with that disrespectful look on her face and those nasty tattoos on her legs. Dorothy had just assumed she was an unpleasant but temporary distraction for Kevin that would disappear as soon as she had that baby and went back to where she came from. Now vague unpleasantness would be a welcome relief. Dorothy wished she could go back to that moment in her kitchen when she had a chance to change the future, when she could have gotten rid of that girl before it was too late. She wasn’t sure exactly what she would have said or done, but she was resourceful. People never gave Dorothy the credit she was due as far as that went. If people knew …

Well, at any rate, she would have found a way to make sure that girl never set foot in their house again. Doing so would have been a blessing for everyone,
including
Joe and Allison. Kevin would have been furious, of course, but what boy his age wasn’t furious at his parents? He would have gotten over it in time anyway and they all could have gone on with their lives. Instead there was this dreadful mess and Dorothy’s family—Dorothy
herself
—was in the center of it. No, that wasn’t exactly right. There was a baby at the center of it. A baby who was born innocent and who deserved a chance at a decent life, but also a baby who was not Dorothy’s and who
was certainly, certainly not Kevin’s. Out of everything that happened in the last few weeks, Kevin’s sudden grab at fatherhood was perhaps the most surprising to Dorothy. What had that girl done to him or
for
him to render him quite so senseless?

But Dorothy already knew the answer to that question: It was the same thing Diana had done to get herself pregnant in the first place.

Disgusting. It was all so disgusting.

A nurse wearing lavender scrubs and staring at a clipboard appeared from the hallway. “Sarah Johnson?” she said, without looking up. The nurse’s voice sliced through Dorothy. Why was she speaking so loudly? There were only four of them sitting here—was there really a need to broadcast the first and last name? Dorothy hoped this wasn’t the same nurse who would be calling her in. She couldn’t stand to hear her full name called out like that, even if it wasn’t the name she was born with. The nurse and patient disappeared into the hallway and Dorothy searched for a place to rest her gaze. She didn’t want to be caught looking at anyone, but she didn’t want to seem as if she was staring into space either.

Sometimes it was so difficult just to sit somewhere. Dorothy’s head was starting to throb but she didn’t mind—her description of the pain would be that much more authentic. And if Dick found out that she’d come here today (and there was no reason he should, because Dorothy was paying for this visit in cash and no record of it would show up on insurance statements), she’d have a legitimate reason. Not that Dick would be likely to pay attention to such a thing now that he had so much else to be upset about. Dorothy shut her eyes for a moment as if that would block out the memory that came rushing to her now.

They were eating dinner. Dorothy had made shepherd’s pie, one of Dick’s favorites. She usually waited until the temperature dipped to make this dish, but it seemed it was never going to cool off this year—they were already into October and it still felt like the middle of summer. So instead of
her usual baked green bean side dish, Dorothy prepared a cold salad to go with the pie, iceberg lettuce and tomatoes tossed with a little ranch dressing. They were enjoying their meal with a nice chardonnay Dorothy had picked up on sale at Vons. They rarely had wine with dinner, and Dorothy wondered now if she’d had some kind of sixth sense about that night without even knowing it because she’d also taken special care with the table, setting it with the good china and using cloth napkins instead of paper. Her efforts did seem to have a positive effect. Dick was in a relatively good mood and for a change they were having a pleasant conversation that didn’t have anything to do with money or Kevin or what needed to be done around the house. Dick asked her if she’d done something different with the shepherd’s pie because it tasted better than usual and Dorothy, pleased that he’d noticed, told him that she’d used a little of the chardonnay in the pan when she cooked the meat. Then he asked her if she’d noticed that
FOR SALE
sign hanging off the Suns’ mailbox, and Dorothy said she had and that she’d been wondering about it. Dick said that they’d never get rid of it for what they paid—not in this market.

“You should go over there,” Dick said. “See what they’re asking.”

“I can’t just knock on the door and ask them how much they want for their house, Dick.”

“Why not?”

Dorothy hesitated, trying to think of why, in fact, she didn’t feel she could go across the street and ask Mrs. Sun about the price of her house, and in that moment Dick’s attention shifted abruptly—back to the one thing that constantly chafed at him, that perpetual rock in his shoe.

“Where’s Kevin?” he asked.

Dorothy considered lying. She could have told Dick that he was at a friend’s house or had gone to a movie. She might even have gotten away with telling him that Kevin was in his room. He might not have checked, might not have cared that Kevin wasn’t eating dinner with them, especially because Kevin had been skipping a good percentage of meals at the table anyway. But she wasn’t fast enough, either for a lie or the truth.

“Is he over at Joe’s with that girl? Goddamn it, Dorothy.”

“I don’t know if he’s over there, Dick.”

“Well, where the hell else would he be? Goddamn
Joe’s
never there. The man can’t control his house at all so he just takes off. When’s the last time you saw him around here taking care of his business?”

“I don’t know. Joe does work unusual hours at the restaurant so he’s not here in the evening. I do know that.”

“Bullshit. He’s hiding or running away and leaving other people to clean up his mess. And Kevin has to be right there in the middle of it.” He paused, his mouth twitching around a thought. “Hasn’t she had that baby yet?”

“You know she had the baby, Dick. Last week.”

“And how would I know that, Dorothy?”

“Because I told you. We had that conversation.”

Dick had put down his fork and knife by then and pushed his plate forward. There were beads of ranch dressing caught in the hairs of his mustache and Dorothy wondered why he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t wiped his face. Usually he was so fastidious about that kind of thing. The tension gathered fast then, making the air around the table thick and heavy like the still before a tornado or the painless pressure before the onslaught of a migraine.

“Maybe you could refresh my memory,” he said, “because I don’t seem to have any recollection of that conversation.”

“She had a girl,” Dorothy said, and stopped. What other information could he need beyond that?

“And?”

“And nothing. She had the baby and now she’s—
they
are home.”

“But they aren’t
home
, Dorothy. They’re still here. Why are they still here?”

“I don’t know why you think I’d know, Dick. It’s not like I talk to Allison anymore.”

But, of course, Dorothy did know. She knew that somewhere between
the onset of Diana’s labor and her release from the hospital, it had all gone wrong. Instead of turning the baby over to the family who had meant to adopt her, Diana had done a complete about-face and brought the baby back to Fuller Court. And Dorothy suspected that her own son had something to do with that decision.

Dick stood up, knocking into the table. Their wineglasses shivered with the impact and the silverware rattled on their plates. Dorothy lunged, anticipating the sound of broken glass, but nothing fell.

“It’s enough, Dorothy,” he said. “We should have put a stop to this already. Look what happens when you let things go. Give an inch and they’ll take a mile, isn’t that right?”

“What do you mean, Dick?” Dorothy had started feeling queasy, anxiety churning her stomach. Dick was on the verge of a full-blown rant, his anger and frustration with his own life turning outward to find fault with everything in the world at large. He’d never been the most open man, but she’d always accepted his strong beliefs, even taken them for a sign of inner strength. More and more lately, though, that strength seemed like aggression and utter inflexibility. There had once been a time when she’d been able to soften him, to present another point of view without challenging him, but she’d lost that skill set and the will to relearn it.

“This used to be a decent neighborhood,” he said, his voice rising. “People around here used to have some
values
, Dorothy. It wasn’t that long ago that people didn’t even advertise living together if they weren’t married. You know, I remember that and I’m not even that old. Now you can do any perverted thing you want way out in the open without any fear. You know why, Dorothy? Because the goddamn liberals are running everything. Everyone’s got to have their goddamn
civil rights
. But what about mine? What about my right to raise my own kid in an unpolluted atmosphere—”

“Dick, I don’t think—”

“No, you don’t, Dorothy, and that’s part of the problem. If you hadn’t been so soft on him all the time—”

“You’re his father!”

“That’s right. I’m his goddamned father and I’m putting an end to this now. I’m going over there.”

“Dick, wait.”

“Why?”

“What are you going to do?”

“He needs to get his ass back home. I’m going to go get him.”

Dorothy wondered now if it would have made a difference if she hadn’t followed Dick to the Montanas’ house, if the outcome might have been better had she not been there to witness it, or if it might have gotten even worse if she’d decided to stay there at her dining room table, staring at the remains of their ruined dinner. In the end, it probably didn’t matter because it wasn’t as if her presence had made much of an impact to begin with.

Dick had at least a two-minute lead on her because she’d stopped to get her keys, make sure the back door was shut, and lock the front door behind her. By the time she’d done all of that, he was a good way down the street. Outside it was warm and dry. The tall eucalyptus and palms were outlined against the sky, swaying very slightly. The air had a tang of wood smoke and lemony tree bark, and it was so still that she could hear Dick clear his throat as he passed Sam and Gloria’s house on his way to the Montanas. The only other sound was the regular thunk of a basketball as it hit the backboard because the Sun boy was outside too, practicing his shots in the gathering dark. He looked at her briefly as she passed by and stopped for a moment.

“Hi, Mrs. Werner.”

“Oh, hi …” Dorothy fumbled. She didn’t know his name and couldn’t just call him by his last name. “Hi,” she said again and quickened her pace.

Joe and Allison’s door was unlocked when she got there and Dick was already inside. Dorothy fought an onslaught of sensory information the
moment she crossed the foyer into the dining room, a path identical to the one in her own house. The first thing to hit her was that newborn smell of diapers, milk, and birth suddenly so familiar to Dorothy despite the many years since she’d had her own child. Then there was the mess, a mad jumble of clothes and empty packages, half-filled coffee cups, and unopened mail. It looked as if the floor hadn’t seen a mop in months, and Dorothy didn’t even want to think how long it had been since anyone had dusted the place. There was an aura of chaos and neglect in the house that seemed somehow intentional. The people in the room seemed messy too—all standing at odd angles to one another, waving their arms, their faces in disarray. There was Allison, her hair stringy and dirty like Dorothy had never seen it before, wearing old sweatpants and a stained T-shirt without—and Dorothy couldn’t believe she was seeing this—
a bra
. Joe, who was in fact here in his own house and not working, was standing very close to Dick, his face flushed and angry. Behind all of them, on the edge of the darkened living room, stood Diana clutching a pink bundle to her chest and Kevin right there next to her. Dorothy wondered why she couldn’t hear the baby making any noise. But then, as if someone had unmuted the sound in the room, noise came rushing in and Dorothy had to struggle to separate it all and put it in some kind of order.

Joe was barking something at Dick, and Dick was responding in kind. Allison had raised her voice as well, something about this being her house and people needing to leave. The baby was crying—a thin, high-pitched wail winding itself around everything else. Finally, as Dorothy stood there like a holograph projected into a room full of people, the words she was hearing began making sense.