Amy took the remote and muted the sound on the television, leaving only the picture available. “That was Daddy on the phone,” she said. “He needs to know if we want him to fly Rosa to Hawaii with us to help with Zack.” She waited for Justin to acknowledge what she’d just said. When he didn’t, she told him: “I’m thinking that we don’t really need a nanny. I mean, Daddy’s rented this incredible villa, so it won’t be like Zack will be cooped up in a hotel room. He’ll have a whole house to roam around in. And you know how my mother loves to be with him. I’m sure if you and I go do something on our own, she’ll want to watch him anyway, so—”
Justin cut her off in mid-sentence with a cynical laugh. “For Christ’s sake, Ames, when do we ever get time to ourselves on one of your father’s forced marches?”
“A villa in Maui is hardly a forced march, Justin.”
“Look. I don’t want to fight about this. I already told you, I’ve got too many things on my plate right now. This isn’t the time for a trip.”
“How can anybody not be up for a free week in Hawaii?”
Justin took the remote from Amy and idly flicked through the channels. “I have a lot on my mind. Leave it at that.”
Amy went to the television, shut it off, and then stood in front of it, blocking Justin’s view. “This is my father’s birthday we’re talking about. If we don’t go, do you have any idea how disappointed he’s going to be?”
Each of Justin’s words was laced with sarcasm. “You know what your father should do to commemorate all the command performances … the birthday trips, the rafting trips, the Let’s Go to Europe for No Good Goddamn Reason trips? He should get roadie jackets made up. They could all say the same thing. Another Don Heitmann Punishment Tour.” Justin got up and walked out of the dimness of the living room into the brightly lit kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of soda. With an angry twist, he removed the cap and let it drop onto the floor.
Amy was already coming through the doorway. It was clear she was ready to fight. “You’re telling me lounging around in the lap of luxury is ‘punishment,’ Justin? Why are you being such a shit about this?”
Amy and Justin had been arguing about this trip for a week, and he knew that if she kept pushing him about it, he would explode. He was struggling to keep calm as he said: “Amy, did your father ask you if it was convenient for you to go to fucking Maui next week? Did he ask me? No. That’s because it isn’t an invitation. It’s a demand. We’re being ordered to sit in his villa, eathis food, see places he wants to see, and listen to him rap about his monster cash flow and how it gives him the big fat swinging dick the rest of us should get down on our knees and pray to.”
Amy’s voice was rasping with outrage. “You’re being a monumental asshole, Justin. All my father is trying to do is give us family time together in a place where we can make some great memories. This trip is as much for us, and for Zack, as it is for him.” She seemed to be fighting tears as she said: “He’s just trying to give us a present.”
Her impending tears, genuine or not, irritated Justin—he had no interest in buying what she was attempting to sell. He’d allowed himself to be sold too many times before. Without looking at her, he went back into the living room—back to the numbing comfort of the semidarkness, and the television.
As he was reaching for the remote, Amy appeared in the doorway, looking contrite. She took a deliberate, expectant breath, as if she was about to plunge into the deep end of a swimming pool. “When I was upstairs in the shower,” she said, “I had a thought … about all this craziness.”
Justin kept his gaze fixed on the television. “The craziness that’s going on in the rest of the world, or the stuff going on in my head?”
“Both, I think.” Amy moved out of the
Justin cut her off in mid-sentence with a cynical laugh. “For Christ’s sake, Ames, when do we ever get time to ourselves on one of your father’s forced marches?”
“A villa in Maui is hardly a forced march, Justin.”
“Look. I don’t want to fight about this. I already told you, I’ve got too many things on my plate right now. This isn’t the time for a trip.”
“How can anybody not be up for a free week in Hawaii?”
Justin took the remote from Amy and idly flicked through the channels. “I have a lot on my mind. Leave it at that.”
Amy went to the television, shut it off, and then stood in front of it, blocking Justin’s view. “This is my father’s birthday we’re talking about. If we don’t go, do you have any idea how disappointed he’s going to be?”
Each of Justin’s words was laced with sarcasm. “You know what your father should do to commemorate all the command performances … the birthday trips, the rafting trips, the Let’s Go to Europe for No Good Goddamn Reason trips? He should get roadie jackets made up. They could all say the same thing. Another Don Heitmann Punishment Tour.” Justin got up and walked out of the dimness of the living room into the brightly lit kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of soda. With an angry twist, he removed the cap and let it drop onto the floor.
Amy was already coming through the doorway. It was clear she was ready to fight. “You’re telling me lounging around in the lap of luxury is ‘punishment,’ Justin? Why are you being such a shit about this?”
Amy and Justin had been arguing about this trip for a week, and he knew that if she kept pushing him about it, he would explode. He was struggling to keep calm as he said: “Amy, did your father ask you if it was convenient for you to go to fucking Maui next week? Did he ask me? No. That’s because it isn’t an invitation. It’s a demand. We’re being ordered to sit in his villa, eathis food, see places he wants to see, and listen to him rap about his monster cash flow and how it gives him the big fat swinging dick the rest of us should get down on our knees and pray to.”
Amy’s voice was rasping with outrage. “You’re being a monumental asshole, Justin. All my father is trying to do is give us family time together in a place where we can make some great memories. This trip is as much for us, and for Zack, as it is for him.” She seemed to be fighting tears as she said: “He’s just trying to give us a present.”
Her impending tears, genuine or not, irritated Justin—he had no interest in buying what she was attempting to sell. He’d allowed himself to be sold too many times before. Without looking at her, he went back into the living room—back to the numbing comfort of the semidarkness, and the television.
As he was reaching for the remote, Amy appeared in the doorway, looking contrite. She took a deliberate, expectant breath, as if she was about to plunge into the deep end of a swimming pool. “When I was upstairs in the shower,” she said, “I had a thought … about all this craziness.”
Justin kept his gaze fixed on the television. “The craziness that’s going on in the rest of the world, or the stuff going on in my head?”
“Both, I think.” Amy moved out of the
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