Page 71 of No One But Us

“I’m just saying it kind of works out for her. I’ve been hearing about this for years from Ginny. And it only seems to occur when one of you isn’t doing what shewants.”

What she’s suggesting seems crazy and mean-spirited, but I know Elle is neither of thosethings.

“Because it’s upsetting for her,” I explain. “The family therapist said it’s a reaction to feeling out of control, like if she can exert some authority over herself and her body, then at least one thing makessense.”

“She’s your mother, and you’d know better than I would,” she says. “It just seems to me that it’s not just herbodyshe’s exerting some authorityover.”

I swallow, recognizing a logic to what she’s saying that I don’t want to see. There has never been a time when my mother has stopped eating that didn’t coincide with her wanting something from us. It happens after fights with my dad. It happened when I wanted to go to UCLA instead of somewhere closeby.

And perhaps the most telling thing is when itdidn’thappen. It didn’t happen after my grandfather died this winter. And surely that is more upsetting than my choice of careers? I want Elle to be wrong, but I’m no longer certain sheis.

* * *

That afternoon, I slide out of bed, taking one last glance at Elle, naked and sound asleep, as I pull on shorts and head to the deck. We had the house to ourselves all morning and made such good use of it that I feel almost calm as I place the call I dreadmost.

If only I could sleep with her before every majorevent.

I call my father and confirm that my mother isn’t around. And then I lower the boom and tell him I’m not going back to lawschool.

“What do you mean you’re not going back?” hedemands.

“I’m joining the FBI. I interviewed a few weeks ago and got my offer letter yesterday. After I train, they’re going to place me in their Parisoffice.”

“TheFBI? Are you out of your mind?” he yells. “You are one year short of gettingtwoadvanced degrees, and you want to just quit? Are you out of your goddamnedmind?”

I think about hanging up. I could go wake Elle and forget this conversation everhappened.

“Dad, I have never wanted to be a lawyer. Never. I went along with it for a while, and I thought I’d get into it, but I’m just not. Interning for you guys last summer made me want to hold a gun to my skull everyday.”

“Interning for us last summer made you more money in three months than you’d make in a year working for the FBI,” hesays.

“First of all, that’s not true. But even if it were, there are more important things in life than money. You wanted something different once too. Can you honestly tell me you’re glad you didn’t go for it? Because I know at least part of you wishes youhad.”

The line goes so quiet that I can hear the tick of the clock on the far wall of his office. “What are you referring to?” he finally asks. There is ice in hisvoice.

“You wanted to help people once upon a time,remember?”

As I say the words, it occurs to me that he might have thought I was asking about anothersomething differenthe oncewanted.

“What did youthinkI was referringto?”

He hesitates. “Nothing.”

We are bothsilent.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my voicecold.

“Of course I’m sure,” he says briskly. “Look, you’re a grown man, and I can’t make you do anything, but you need to think long and hard about how this going to affecteveryone.”

“It’s my life. For once I’m just going to worry about how it affectsme.”

His laugh is an angry bark. “And leave me to tell your mother and deal with thefallout.”

“Why not?” I ask. “You’re the one who started this whole problem, aren’tyou?”

I hang up the phone and return to myroom.

Elle gives me a sleepy smile as she sits up, golden and glowing, her long hair falling over herchest.

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