{"id":1369,"date":"2006-05-02T13:46:00","date_gmt":"2006-05-02T13:46:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog2\/2006\/05\/another-excerpt\/"},"modified":"2006-05-02T13:46:00","modified_gmt":"2006-05-02T13:46:00","slug":"another-excerpt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/2006\/05\/another-excerpt\/","title":{"rendered":"Another Excerpt"},"content":{"rendered":"

Remember, Eric is the estranged husband, Emmy is the main character (nee Natalie). BTW, the scene I posted the other day, with Henry and the joint, is going to be much later in the book. –sls <\/span><\/p>\n

Eric could not concentrate on his work. Software was always his first love, but sometimes, it just didn\u2019t cut it. There had only been one thing that had ever replaced his obsession with computers, and that is what was commanding his attention now: Emmy. Now, always, Emmy. Goddamn her. From the moment he saw her, with her wild hair and her green eyes, at a party during grad school, surrounded by like six other guys, he knew he wanted her, and only her. He\u2019d hardly ever dated before Em. But once they became friends, it was only a matter of time.
They were inseparable; total opposites who had somehow found each other appealing. Emmy was getting her MBA but she was a total humanities type; she\u2019d majored in English, after all. The MBA was to earn a living, she had said. But of course, in the end, she hadn\u2019t done anything with it; the closest she\u2019d come to business was being a second-rate realtor.<\/p>\n

Eric felt guilty for that thought, but he also knew it was true. It was his business sense that had gotten them the house in Belleville, the vacations in the Bahamas, and her expensive wardrobe. Emmy was a high-maintenance chick who appeared low-maintenance at first. He was totally taken in by her lazy half-smile and her unkempt hair. Little did he know at the time how hard she worked on that mane of hers, just to get it to that windswept state it was always in.<\/p>\n

But it wasn\u2019t any of that that had finally made him leave.
He stood up, walked to the bookcase, and pulled down the photo album. A piece of paper fell out; looked like a receipt. He didn\u2019t even know what it\u2019s significance was anymore. Maybe none. He leafed through the funny grad school shots, so odd and poignant with their out-of-style hair and clothes. Even a geek like him could tell that these pics were like twenty years old.
There was Emmy in her wedding dress, and him in that monkey suit, looking really thin and scared. And happy. He remembered feeling like he\u2019d won the jackpot. He kept thinking that people weren\u2019t supposed to be this lucky. Why had she picked him? Why were they together? Why did she love him?
He kept asking himself until he got too busy. First with work, and then the boys.
Then, autism. Everything was autism. Em nearly lost her mind with Nick back then. His mind flashed to that day in that doctor\u2019s office. That stupid, clueless man. \u201cHe\u2019ll probably never marry, never go to college. He may be mentally retarded.\u201d Em \u2013 that firebrand \u2013 had looked him in the eye and said, \u201cNo. Autism, maybe. All the other stuff \u2013 over my dead body.\u201d She had picked up Nick, her pocketbook, and walked out, slamming the door. It wasn\u2019t until they were in the car that she\u2019d lost it. She had cried all the way home, and for days after, it seemed. She\u2019d been a zombie. Just barely functioning, taking Nick to the playground and letting him sit in the sandbox, eating sand while she just stared. Her playgroup dumped her. They stopped telling her where they were meeting and she\u2019d run into them by accident. Her parents didn\u2019t seem to get it, either, acting like the doctor was all wrong. Emmy could think of nothing else, talk about nothing else except what was wrong with Nick, what should they do, then, where should he go to school, were they doing enough? And once in a while, she\u2019d pay attention to Henry.
Well, that wasn\u2019t fair. She paid a lot of attention to Henry, because he was normal, and a knock-out baby. He made them laugh again, after so much crying.
Their whole life, though, had really become autism. Their vacations became few and far between, and extremely difficult. Then Dan came along, and they were both so worried that he\u2019d be autistic, too. When it turned out he wasn\u2019t, Emmy couldn\u2019t get enough of him. She kind of spoiled him, Eric thought. She became the total earth mother that she\u2019d always threatened to be, completely absorbed in her children and her garden. Nothing else mattered. Certainly not him. He was like part of the furniture. The breadwinner, the babysitter for her increasingly frequent trips to Gretta Kelly. At first he would pick fights with her to get her to notice him. Or be really nice, really thoughtful. Nothing worked. Nothing. She was too far gone into the kids. Suffering over Nick, in love with Henry and Dan. He felt the same, but it was like there was no room for him and how he felt. So when she asked him to leave, at last, he was only too willing.<\/p>\n

He put back the photo album, not really sure what he had hoped to accomplish by looking at painful pictures. He sat back down at his computer, determined to write some tasty code that would bring him back to life again.<\/p>\n

The phone rang before he could start. It was Emmy. Creepy, because he\u2019d just been thinking about her. \u201cHey,\u201d he said. He never bothered pretending he didn\u2019t have Caller I.D. What was the point?
\u201cEric. I wanted to tell you something good for a change.\u201d
Eric smiled just hearing her happy voice. \u201cOkay,\u201d he said. \u201cI wasn\u2019t really working anyway.\u201d
Emmy laughed as if he were joking. \u201cIt\u2019s Nick. He\u2019s doing really well!\u201d
Eric felt something light and airy in his middle. \u201cOh?\u201d he asked carefully.
\u201cWell, I mean, it\u2019s just really nice. Sweet. He\u2019s started painting.\u201d
\u201cPainting?\u201d This was the big fucking newsflash?
\u201cDon\u2019t sound like that! It\u2019s really good. He is very into it. And he\u2019s good at it, too.\u201d
\u201cGood at it? As in, he might have a savant skill as an artist, or as in, he painted a few circles with a fat brush dipped in tempera?\u201d
\u201cJesus, you piece of shit,\u201d Emmy whispered.
\u201cEmmy, wait! I\u2019m \u2013 \u201c
Emmy slammed the phone down.
\u201cSorry,\u201d he said to the receiver.<\/p>\n

The next morning, probably because of the wine, she was running late. She snapped at the kids several times trying to get them going. \u201cYou mean you haven\u2019t showered yet?\u201d she yelled at Henry, who seemed to be daydreaming in his bed. Daydreaming! At 7:30 a.m. on Tuesday! She stormed downstairs, where Dan was supposed to be getting the cereal out. He was sitting in front of a full bowl of Kocoa Krispies, reading the back of the box. \u201cMom, can you find all the hidden \u2018Kocoa\u2019s\u2019 in this picture? I got ten.\u201d
\u201cDan, where\u2019s your milk? Why aren\u2019t you eating?\u201d
\u201cCan you get it?\u201d
\u201cHoney, why do I have to get it every day? What\u2019s with that?\u201d
Dan sighed and looked at her sadly. \u201cOkay, I\u2019ll get it.\u201d He started to slide off the chair.
\u201cOh, never mind, I\u2019ll get it!\u201d She bent to the low refrigerator shelf and pulled out the gallon, already halfway down. She slammed the milk onto the table. Then she looked for the telltale signs of Nick: crumbs, scattered bits of cereal, empty cereal box with paper lining upended on table. Nothing. \u201cNick!\u201d
A muffled, \u201cYes, okay, yes,\u201d came from upstairs.
\u201cWhat, did everyone forget that it is a school day?\u201d
\u201cWhy are you mad?\u201d
She looked at Dan and her heart twisted. \u201cArgh, I\u2019m sorry. I don\u2019t know, I just am. It\u2019s not you.\u201d
\u201cIs it Dad?\u201d
She sighed. \u201cI don\u2019t know, Dan.\u201d
\u201cThat means yes.\u201d
\u201cDan, no, it means I don\u2019t know.\u201d
\u201cCan you get me juice, too?\u201d
Henry slunk in, wet stringy hair clinging to his emerging man\u2019s face. Would she ever get used to that strong chin, those all-seeing eyes, that bit of mustache? He said, \u201cIs there any more OJ?\u201d
\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know, did you check downstairs?\u201d
He shuffled off to the basement. She knew there was probably either no OJ or just one more. She\u2019d have to go shopping today. Her least favorite way to spend a morning.
\u201cThere isn\u2019t any,\u201d he said tone
\nlessly.
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Honey, I\u2019ll get some today. There\u2019s apple.\u201d
\u201cNo thanks.\u201d
\u201cMom! You said you\u2019d get me juice,\u201d yelled Dan.
\u201cComing,\u201d she said, tired already, at 7:37 a.m.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Remember, Eric is the estranged husband, Emmy is the main character (nee Natalie). BTW, the scene I posted the other day, with Henry and the joint, is going to be much later in the book. –sls Eric could not concentrate on his work. Software was always his first love, but sometimes, it just didn\u2019t cut […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1369","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pSTth-m5","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1369","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1369"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1369\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1369"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1369"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/susansenator.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1369"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}