Page 13 of Winter Solstice
PJ doesn’t respond. His fingers are skating across the screen.
“What game are you playing?” Ava asks.
PJ doesn’t answer.
“Minecraft,” Potter says.
Ah, Minecraft. Ava has long listened to the people she knows with children complain about Minecraft. Apparently, it’s the bane of every parent’s existence. Even Ava’s sister-in-law Jennifer complains about it. But now Ava wishes she had been paying closer attention about what Minecraftisexactly. If she knew the details, she might be able to bond with PJ over the mines or the crafts.
“Shall we go in?” Ava asks. She leads the way through the entrance and waits while Potter gets tickets for the three of them, then they glide into the museum.
Ava hasn’t set foot in this museum since she was a child herself, but all the memories come rushing back. She recalls school field trips—brown bag lunches, the buddy system, worksheets to fill out in each wing—as well as the rainy weekends after Ava’s parents split. Ava and Patrick and Kevin used to spend the week with Margaret in the brownstone on East Eighty-Eighth Street, and the weekends with Kelley in his sleek, new high-rise down in the financial district. Kelley was a lost soul in those days. Ava wasn’t old enough to understand it then, though it’s clear to her now. Kelley’s brother, Avery, was dying of AIDS down in Greenwich Village, and so Kelley was adamant about spending his weekends with the kids uptown. Patrick and Kevin were teenagers, so they had friends and sports to use as excuses to escape the sad, desperate weekends with Kelley. But Ava was stuck. In clement weather she and Kelley went to Central Park, where they watched the roller skaters or threw stones in the Lake. When it was cold or raining, they came here.
There were things about this museum that Ava loved: the big elephant, the squid and the whale, the gemstones. She has bad memories of the dinosaurs and even worse memories of the Hall of Indigenous Peoples. She was sick to her stomach one Sunday and threw up in her father’s hands in front of the diorama of the Maoris.
“Where shall we start?” Ava asks. She has the map in her hand and is filled with optimism. The offerings in this day and age are almost overwhelming. There’s the Butterfly Conservatory, an exhibition on the Arctic, an exhibit on bats, an exhibit on the city of Petra, and one on the jewelry of Native Americans. There’s the planetarium, which they’ll save for last. There are the fossil halls, the dinosaurs, the mammals, the gems and minerals—they’ll have to stroll through there for old times’ sake—the Hall of Human Origins, and… the Discovery Room! Ava forgot about the Discovery Room, but she can vividly recall whiling away the hours there while Kelley read the Week in Review section of theTimeson a bench. He didn’t realize thatquality timemeant he should get down on his hands and knees and marvel with Ava over the drawer filled with cowrie and turret shells.
But Kelley made up for it later. He was a wonderful father. He isstilla wonderful father, Ava thinks. She fights to keep composed, but neither Potter nor PJ is paying attention to her anyway. PJ is staring at the phone, and Potter is looking around the museum, clearly at a loss.
“Dinosaurs,” Ava says. “Let’s start with dinosaurs.”
“Dinosaurs,” Potter says. He’s clearly relieved that Ava has taken charge. “You like dinosaurs, right, bud?”
PJ is too engrossed with his game to answer, and Ava looks up at Potter.Take it away from him!she thinks.We are in a museum!Surely, there are plenty of interactive screens here now, many more than twenty-five years ago. She can’t believe Potter is allowing him to willfully ignore his surroundings.
“PJ… ,” Potter says, but he stops. He looks helpless. What can Ava do but reflect back on Margaret’s words:You may think you know Potter inside and out, but just remember, you’ve never seen him be a parent. You may be surprised.
Potter is the most intelligent, evolved, kind, sexy, charming, and fun-loving man Ava has ever met. He’s everything she could dream of wanting. And yet as a parent… well, the most flattering word Ava can come up with right now isineffectual.But she, for one, isn’t going to let PJ miss the wonders of this museum.
She crouches down. She realizes she hasn’t seen the color of PJ’s eyes. Are they blue like Potter’s?
“Hey,” she says. “PJ, we’re in a museum, and the museum has a lot of cool things in it, like dinosaurs and bats. Bats echolocate. Do you know what that means?”
PJ doesn’t flinch, or even blink. He is intent on his game, moving a finger with a sad, chewed-up nail over the screen. It’s like he’s hypnotized. Ava puts one hand on his arm, and with her other hand she reaches for the phone.
“Bad touch!” PJ screams. “Bad touch! Bad touch!”
Ava recoils. She stands up, her cheeks blazing. “I’m sorry,” she says.
Potter says, “Buddy, put down the phone. Here, I’ll take it.” He reaches out a hand, which PJ ignores.
Just take it from him!Ava thinks. But PJ is not her child. She needs to tread lightly.
Potter retracts his hand and shrugs. He offers Ava a lame smile. “Shall we go see the dinosaurs?” he asks.
They wander through the museum, two adults feigning enthusiasm for arachnids and the rings of Jupiter, while PJ tags along, playing Minecraft. Ava hardly sees the point of all this. At the threshold to each new hall, she wants to tell Potter she’s going home. She will leave them alone for the rest of the weekend; she will join Drake and Margaret at Le Coucou tonight. But if she tells Potter this, he’ll be upset, maybe even angry. He’ll say she’s abandoning ship… then she’ll tellhimhe’s a piss-poor skipper… and then they will become one ofthosecouples—a couple who bickers in public places.
So instead Ava plays along, and at one point, in the lush, steamy greenhouse that is the Butterfly Conservatory, Potter reaches for her hand and gives it a tight squeeze. And for just a moment everything is okay.
When they leave the museum, Ava is starving. She and Potter have been so busy trying to find an exhibit that would snatch PJ from the grasp of his device that they forgot all about lunch.
“Should we try for a table at Cafe Luxembourg?” Ava asks Potter once they are out in the mellow sunshine of the street.
He shakes his head. “Subway home,” he says.
“All right,” Ava says. “I’ll say good-bye now, then.”
“No!” Potter says, so loudly that PJ actually stutter-steps and looks up. “Please come back with us. I’ll order you the shrimp tebsi from Massawa.”
