He sticks paper in, little raps on the door. Must be Olivia. “Yes, what is it!” he says. “It’s me. Can I have a Gummy Bear?” “Oh come on, don’t bother me with that now, and you know I don’t like you having candy.” “Mommy says I can have one if you also say I can.” “OK, have one, but see if Mommy can get it. I’m busy; working. Let me alone for a few more minutes.” “Mommy says to ask you to help me. She’s with baby.” “Oh Jesus, damnit, all right.” He opens the door. “But only one.” “Two.” “One or none. Which is it? I don’t want you taking all day.” “One. I want to pick the color.”
He gets the container of Gummy Bears out of the kitchen cupboard, holds it open for her. She looks inside, holds her hand over it. “Come on, pick it quickly. Red, green, orange, yellow or white.” “Not white. It’s light, like light. But not like that light,” pointing to the ceiling fixture. “All right, light. And oh, poetry. But quick, which?” She looks in the container, hand over it again. “Orange is your favorite color. Why not choose orange?” “Orange,” and she picks one out and puts it into her mouth. “OK now. This is my one big hour to do some important work at home. So please be my little sweetheart and let me use it? Go back to your program.” “It’s over.” ‘Then into your room. Look at your books. Put on a record.” “I don’t want to.” “I’ll put one on for you. Maybe it’s still too hard. Sleeping Beauty. The beluga whale song by whoever sings it.” “I want you to play doctor and nurse with me.” “Not now. I haven’t time. That’s final. I’ll take care of all your bears later.” “Not all of them.” “Then just some. But go in your room and line them up and dress them in paper towels if you want. That’ll look like hospital gowns,” and he gives her the roll of paper towels from the shelf over the sink. “And tell them I’m—” She drops the roll on the floor. “I want someone to play with now.” “You shouldn’t drop things like that. Especially paper towels. We use them to clean things.” He picks it up and puts it back on the shelf. “I want you to play with me, or someone.” “Olivia, haven’t I been patient with you and clear? This is my break, my free time. So give me ten minutes longer. That isn’t much. Ten is little. So go into—” “No!” “I said go into your room,” and grabs her shirt at the shoulder and starts pulling her to her room. She screams, starts crying. “Shit ole-bitching-mighty,” he yells. “Why you doing that? You’ve nothing to cry about. I’m the one. Oh the hell. And I didn’t mean to pull at you so hard, or yell. I didn’t hurt you — you know that.” She backs away and cries harder. “What’s wrong?” Denise says from the baby’s room. “What? Speak louder.” “I said why’s she crying?” “I was just telling her — that’s all — telling her—” “It sounded like shouting.” “Well, shouting to myself mostly that an hour-a-day break is just too little.” “First try to comfort Olivia. I’m trying to get the baby to sleep.” He moves toward Olivia with his arms out. She’s sobbing now, backs off to a corner. “Sweetheart, please come to me. I’m sorry. Don’t make Daddy feel bad.” Gets on one knee. “Honestly, I’m sorry. I apologize. Your Daddy’s frustrated. You know what frustrated means?” She shakes her head, still sobbing. “It means I want to work more than I have the time to. And when I can’t, then for some dumb reason I get mad. But it’s OK. It wasn’t your fault. Here, you want another Gummy Bear? I don’t like bribing you to make you feel better, but maybe you deserve it.” “I don’t want anything,” and she runs out of the kitchen. “Ah, fuck it,” he says low to himself. “When does it ever go right? Plenty, plenty. But me and my goddamn fucking breaks. Stop it, stop it.” Oh for once, he thinks, just go back to your room and do what you were doing and maybe neither of them, because of the mood they know you were in, will bother you for another half-hour. It’s cheating but it’ll be worth it to them in the long run.