The Descendants (22 page)

“What if he’s a wreck? What if he loses his shit?”

“Then I’ll take care of him.” I imagine Brian Speer wailing on my shoulder. I imagine him and my daughters by Joanie’s bed, her lover and his loud sobs shaming us. “Just so you know, I am angry. I’m not this pure and noble guy. I want to do this for her, but I also want to see who he is. I want to ask him a few things.”

“Just call him. Tell his office it’s an emergency. They’ll have him call you.”

“I want to tell him in person. I haven’t told anyone over the phone, and I don’t want to start now.”

“You told Troy.”

“Troy doesn’t count. I just need to do this. On the phone he can escape. If I see him in person, he’ll have nowhere to go.”

We both look away when our eyes meet. She hasn’t crossed the border into my room. She never does during her nighttime doorway chats.

“Were you guys having trouble?” Alex asks. “Is that why she cheated?”

“I didn’t think we were having trouble,” I say. “I mean, it was the same as always.”

This was the problem, that our marriage was the same as always. Joanie needed bumps. She needed rough terrain. It’s funny that I can get lost in thoughts about her, but when she was right in front of me, I didn’t think much about her at all.

“I wasn’t the best husband,” I say.

Alex looks out the window to avoid my confession. “If we go on this trip, what will we tell Scottie?”

“She’ll think we’re going on a trip of some sort. I want to get her away from here.”

“You’ve already said that,” Alex says. “Why should I go?”

“You’re the only person I have,” I say. “And I want us all to be together. It will be good for us.”

“Oh, so now I’m back in the picture again.”

“Alex. Something bigger than you is occurring right now. I’m sorry about your unhappy childhood.”

She glares at me in that special way of hers and Joanie’s that makes me feel worthless and foul-smelling.

“So we’ll tell Scottie we’re going on a vacation while Mom is in the hospital?”

“It’s for a day or two,” I say. “Scottie’s been in the hospital every day for almost a month now. She needs a break. It’s not good for her. I’d like you to be in charge of answering any questions she may have. She looks up to you. She’ll hang on whatever you say.”

I’m hoping a leadership role, a specific chore, will make Alex act like an adult and treat Scottie well.

“Can you do that?”

She shrugs.

“If you can’t handle things, let me know. I’ll help. I’m here for you.”

Alex laughs. I wonder if there are parents who can say things to their kids like “I love you” or “I’m here for you” without being laughed at. I have to admit it’s a bit uncomfortable. Affection, in general, is unpleasant to me.

“What if Mom doesn’t make it for two days?”

“She will,” I say. “I’ll tell her what we’re doing.”

Alex looks uncomfortable with this idea, that what I’ll say will make her mother want to live. “I’m bringing Sid,” she says. “If he doesn’t come, then I’m not going.”

I’m about to protest, but I see the look in her eyes and know this is yet another battle that I’m bound to lose. Something about this guy is helping her. And Scottie seems to like him. He can keep her distracted. He can work for me.

“Okay,” I say. “Deal.”

I CALL THE
Realtor who spoke to Alex, and she doesn’t know, or won’t tell me, where Brian’s staying, but she does tell me he’s in Hanalei. I print out a list of Hanalei hotels and call them all with no success. I make a reservation for two rooms at Princeville; I’m surprised he’s not staying there. Either he’s staying in an unlisted B and B, he’s rented a house, or he hasn’t checked in. I don’t know what to do. He needs to be found, but I’m sure I can go and run into him somehow. It’s what happens on islands, especially in the miniature town of Hanalei.

I think about what else I need to take care of before I go. I need to finish that motion, ask someone to cover a deposition. I need to get my daughters to join forces with me. I need to get Sid to go home. I need to be with my wife, to forgive my wife. I need to be able to look at her without thinking of him.

I need to talk to Joanie’s doctor. I call Sam at the hospital, and when he isn’t there, I call him at home.

“No,” he says. “I can’t put it off any longer.”

“I just need a few more days,” I say. “One more day. I need to go to Kauai to get someone.”

He tells me he needs to abide by the will now that the permanent coma assessment has been made. Tomorrow it has to be done. “But it’s okay,” he says. “You can go. You have time.”

I pack my bags and hope he’s right.

24

IT’S A
beautiful morning.

I look at Joanie’s side of the closet and touch her clothes. Then I close my eyes and walk into the clothes, letting her blouses and dresses fall over me. Today her ventilator will be removed, her room will be stripped of the things that sustain her, and our family will leave her on her own. I don’t feel good about this, yet it needs to be done, and as the doctor says, it can be done. He says it will be good for the girls, so I let myself look forward to the trip. Maybe we can use this time away to create something special, something that acknowledges it will be the three of us now. I want the experience to be successful.

I leave the closet and see the girls slowly entering the bedroom.

“We’re packed,” Scottie says.

“Then let’s go,” I say, walking toward the hall.

The girls don’t move.

I realize they’re eyeing my room, their mother’s room. They’re looking at the place where their mother used to sleep.

I go to the dresser, pretending to gather more things so the girls can stay a bit longer. The birds are making a racket. I look out the window at the banyan tree and see the birds vying for position. One keeps getting pushed off, then flying back to the same spot. The sun is glaring over the Ko’olaus, and a few clouds are floating in from Waimanalo, trapping the heat in our valley.

“When you sell our land, can we buy Doris Duke’s estate and can I hire my own Samoan?” Scottie asks.

“No,” I say.

“Can I have Mom’s diamonds?” she asks.

I turn to see Scottie on the bed, looking through the drawers of Joanie’s nightstand. She takes a photo of the contents, which makes me feel like I’m at a crime scene.

“No, you can’t have her diamonds,” Alex says.

“Why?” Scottie asks.

“Because you’re a selfish little worm, and diamonds would implode as soon as they touched your ugly skin.”

“Alex!”

“Well, what a goddamn awful question. And I don’t care that she’s ten. I had my first beer when I was ten. She needs to grow up. And stop taking pictures. Why are you documenting this? Is this something you want to remember?”

“Yes,” Scottie says. “When Mom comes back, I’ll just ask her myself.” She puts her camera and the photograph on the dresser, then closes her mother’s drawer. Fake pearls and real pearls. Fake diamonds and real diamonds. Intertwined necklaces glint in the photo. “Let’s go,” I say. “We’re racing the clock these next few days. We have no time for any of this.”

“Why are we racing the clock?” Scottie asks.

I ignore the question and walk briskly down the hall to the garage. The girls follow, bickering. “On Xbox, I shoot pro sluts, so watch what you say,” Scottie says.

“Seriously,” Alex says. “You’re a spaz. Get some Ritalin.”

“Get some acne medication,” Scottie says. “You have a volcano on your chin that’s about to spurt like Mauna Kea.”

“Mauna Kea’s dormant, asshole.”

“Your asshole’s dormant.”

“You don’t even know what that means, Scottie.”

“How do you know?”

“Shut up!” I yell, which makes me feel like my father-in-law. I put our bags into the trunk, furious yet at the same time thinking about what to do with Joanie’s diamonds, jewelry, clothes. Of course Scottie can have her diamonds. I see that it’s a practical question, yet I can’t admit to Scottie that it’s okay she asked.

“Where’s Sid?” I ask. “Why do I always have to ask where that idiot is?”

“Don’t call him that,” Scottie says.

Sid comes out the back door.

“Did you lock it?” I say.

He goes back and I look to make sure he presses the lock in.

“Shotgun,” Scottie yells, but Alex opens the passenger-side door and sits down. Scottie has a virtual seizure until I force Alex to climb into the backseat. Before Scottie gets in, I say to Alex, “Didn’t we just talk about you helping me with her? You’re acting like a complete dick. Come on. Get with it.”

I sit at the steering wheel, glowering at the stuff in our garage. There will be so much to clear out, to claim, to fight over.

Sid gets in the back. With him comes the scent of cigarettes and a fresh dose of marijuana, so strong I feel a contact high. Scottie plants herself in the front seat and buckles her seat belt. “Go,” she says, and even though I’m having second thoughts about all of this and am on the verge of either snapping or bawling, I go. I take this strange detour and hope for the best.

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