The Silver Linings Playbook Chapter 24

mammas Handwriting EmergesThe sun bursts th full-length the attic window and lands on my face, heat it, until I open my eyes and realise the day with a squint. After a kiss, I return Nikki to my bedroom dresser and find my mother still asleep in my bed. I mark score that the glass of water I left her is promptly empty, and I am glad to baffle left it there, even if I am mad at mamma now.As I descend the staircase, I smell something burning.When I reach the kitchen, my father is foundationing in front of the outfit. He is wearing mammas rubor apron. pa?When he turns around, he has a spatula in one hand and a pink oven mitt on the other. Behind him, meat hisses a mystifying river of smoke flies up into the exhaust fan.What are you doing?Cooking.Cooking what?Steak.Why?Im hungry.Are you frying it?Im cooking it Cajun style. Blackened. perhaps you should turn the burner down? I suggest, save he returns to his cooking, continuing to flip the sizzling cut over and over, so I go down into the basement to begin my workout.The fire alarm goes off for fifteen minutes or so.When I return to the kitchen two hours later, the pan out he used is blackened and still on the now greasy stove a plate and utensils are in the sink. public address system is watching ESPN on his new television, and his surround sound speaker system awaits to shake the house. The clock on the microwave reads 817 a.m. My mother has forgotten my meds again, so I take out my eight bottles, remove all the caps, and search for the right colors. presently I have a half dozen pills lined up on the counter, and I confirm that the colors are what I take all sunrise. I sw lease all of my pills, thinking mayhap my mother is testing me again, and even though I am technically mad at her, I am also now very worried about ma, so I climb the steps to my room and put through that she is still sleeping.Downstairs, I stand behind the couch and say, Dad? but he ignores me, so I return to my basemen t gym and continue my workout, listening to the ESPN commentators recap the college gages and forecast the future NFL action. Their voices arrive crisply through the floorboards above. I manage from reading the paper that the Eagles are favored to win over San Francisco, which makes me excited to watch the game with my father, who give be in a great mood if the Eagles are victorious, and therefore he will also be more give carely to speak with me.Midmorning, Mom descends, which is a relief, because I was starting to worry that she was really sick. I am riding the bike, and after finding the glib loge last night I just continue pedaling when Mom says, spigot? I do non face Mom, but using my peripheral vision, I see that she is showered, her hair is done, her war paint is applied, and she is wearing a pretty summer dress. Mom also smells really straitlaced lavender. Did you take your pills last night? she asks.I nod once.What about this morning?I nod again.Dr. Patel told me I should have allowed you to take control over your meds when you first came home, that this was a step toward independence. But I was being a milliampere when you did not need me to be a mom. So congratulations, Pat.Congratulations is a strange thing for her to say, especially since I have not won a prize or boththing, but I am really only thinking about what happened last night, why Mom came home d puffk. So I ask her, Where were you last night? Did you go out with friends?Using the corner of my eye again, I see her look down at the old chocolate-brown rug beneath us. I consider your perplexting me to bed last night. The water and the Tylenol armed serviceed. It was a bit of a role reversal, eh? Well, I appreciate it. Thanks, Pat.I overhear she has not answered my question, but I dont know what to say, so I say nothing.Your father has been a bear lately, and Im simply tired of it. So Im making some demands, and things are going to change a little around here. Both of my men are going to start taking burster of themselves a little more. You need to get on with your life, and Im sick and tired of the way your father treats me.Suddenly I forget all about the Pat box and face my mother as I continue pedaling. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?Im not mad at you, Pat. I am mad at your father. He and I had a long talk yesterday when you were zip. Things might be a little rough around here for a few weeks, but I think well all be better for it in the long run.A wild eyeshot leaps into my head and terrifies me. Youre not leaving us, Mom, are you?No. Im not, Mom says, tone me in the eyes, which makes me believe her one hundred percent. I would never leave you, Pat. But I am going out today because Im done with Eagles football. You two are on your own for food.Where are you going? I ask, pedaling faster now.Out, Mom says, and thus kisses the little white scar on my sweaty forehead before she leaves.I am so nervous about what Mom has told me th at I do not eat anything all day, but simply drink my water and do my routine. Because the Eagles are playing at 415, I get in a full workout. The whole eon, I secretly hope my father will come down into the basement and ask me to watch the 100 NFL game with him, but he doesnt.Midafternoon I climb up out of the basement and stand behind the couch for a flake.Dad? I say. Dad?He ignores me and keeps watching the 100 game, and I dont even look to see who is playing, because I am so nervous about what Mom told me. I put on my trash bag and hope Tiffany is outside, because I could really use someone to talk to. But after I stretch for fifteen minutes, Tiffany doesnt show, so I run alone(predicate), thinking it funny that when I want to run alone, Tiffany is always there, but today she is not.I am very hungry, and the pain in my allow increases as I run, which I relish because it means I am losing weight, and well, I feel as though I might have put on some extra fat in the past week, especially after drinking beer with Jake last weekend. This reminds me that I have not spoken with Jake since the Eagles upset to the Giants, and I wonder if he is climax over today to watch the game with Dad and me. Since the pain has sharpened, I decide to run farther than usual, button myself. Also, I am sort of afraid to go home, now that my mother has left me alone with my father for the day, and I am not sure what she meant by changes anyway. I keep wishing Tiffany was running with me so I might talk to her and tell her how I feel, which is a strange desire since she usually never says much in response, and the last time I tried to talk to her about my problems, she started cursing very loudly in a public range and said some really awful things about Nikki. Still, I am starting to feel as though Tiffany is my best friend, which is sort of strange and scary.At the end of my run, I jog down my street, and Jakes silver BMW is nowhere to be seen. Maybe he as well ask the train in from Philadelphia, I think. I am hoping not to be left alone with my father for the game, but somehow I know this is exactly what is going to happen.When I enter the house, my dad is still alone on the couch, wearing his McNabb jersey now and watching the end of the 100 game. A small collection of beer bottles stand at his feet like bowling pins.Is Jake coming over? I ask my father, but he ignores me again.Upstairs, I shower and put on my Hank Baskett jersey.When I reach the family room, the Eagles game is just coming on, so I sit down at the end of the couch my father is not occupying.What the hell is that noise? Dad says, and then turns down the volume.I realize my stomach is making crazy gurgling noises, but I say, I dont know, and Dad turns up the volume again.Just as I had hoped, the new television is an experience. The players warming up on the field look life-size, and the sound quality makes me feel as though I am in San Francisco, sitting on the fifty-yard line. Realizi ng that my associate is not going to make it by kickoff, when a commercial comes on, I galvanise to my feet and yell Ahhhhhhhhh but Dad only looks at me like he wants to hit me in the face again. So I sit down and do not say anything else.The announcers state that Donte Stallworth was a late scratch, so I start to hope Baskett will get a few more balls thrown his way, since the Eagles number one receiver is out of action.The Eagles set up a nice drive and score on their first possession with a shovel pass to Westbrook, at which point my fathers emotions morph. He reaches across the couch and repetitively claps his hand against my thigh, saying over and over again, Touchdown Eagles Touchdown Eagles I start to feel hopeful for my dad, but when the Eagles kick off, he resumes his negative ways and says, Dont celebrate too much. Remember what happened last week. And it is almost as if he is talking to himself, reminding himself not to be overly hopeful.The defense holds strong, and ti ght end L. J. Smith scores a touchdown with only a few minutes left in the first quarter, making it 13 0. Even though the Eagles have blown big leads before, it seems unhurt to say the Birds are the superior team today. My thoughts are confirmed after Akers hits the extra point and my father jumps up and starts singing Fly, Eagles, Fly. So I jump up and sing with him, and we both do the cantillate at the end, spelling the letters with our arms and legs E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLESBetween quarters, my father asks me if I am hungry, and when I say yes, he orders us a pizza and brings me a Bud from the refrigerator. With the Eagles up 14 0, he is all smiles, and as we sip our beer, he says, now all we need is your boy Baskett to get a catch or two.As if my fathers words were a prayer answered, McNabbs first completion in the second quarter is to Baskett for eight yards. Dad and I cheer so loudly for the undrafted rookie.The pizza arrives during halftime, and the Eagles are up 24 3. If only Jake were here, my father says. Then this day would be perfect.My dad and I have been so happy that Ive forgotten Jake is not with us. Where is Jake? I ask, but Dad ignores the question.In the third quarter the San Francisco running back fumbles on the Eagles one-yard line and defensive tackle Mike Patterson picks up the ball and runs toward the opposite end zone. Dad and I are out of our seats, sprightly on the three-hundred-pound lineman as he runs the whole length of the field, and then the Eagles are up 31 3.San Francisco scores a few touchdowns late in the second half, but it doesnt matter, because the game is basically out of reach, and the Eagles win 38 24. At the conclusion of the game, my father and I sing Fly, Eagles, Fly and do the chant one last time, celebrating the Eagles victory, and then Dad simply turns off the television and returns to his study without even saying goodbye to me.The house is so quiet.Maybe a dozen or so beer bottles on the floor, the pizza box is still on the coffee table, and I know the sink is stacked full of dishes and the pan in which Dad cooked his breakfast steak. Since I am practicing being kind, I figure I should at least uncase up the family room so Mom wont have to do it. I carry the Bud bottles out to the recycle bucket by the garage and throw away the pizza box in the outside garbage can. Back inside, a few used napkins are on the floor, and when I reach down to pick up the mess, I spot a crumpled ball of paper under the coffee table. I pick up the ball, uncrumple it, and realize it is not one but two pieces of paper. Moms handwriting emerges. I flatten the papers out on the coffee table.Patrick,I need to tell you I will no longer allow you to disregard the decisions we make together, nor will I allow you to talk down to me any longer especially in front of others. I have met a new friend who has encouraged me to assert myself more forcefully in an effort to gain your respect. Know that I am doing this to sa ve our marriage.Your optionsReturn the false television you purchased, and everything will go back to normal.Keep the monstrous television, and you must agree to the following demandsYou must eat dinner at the table with Pat and me five nights a week.You must go on a half-hour walk with either Pat or me five nights a week.You must have a daily conversation with Pat, during which you ask him at least five questions and listen to his replies, which you will report to me nightly.You must do one recreational application a week with Pat and me, such as eating at a restaurant, seeing a movie, going to the mall, shooting baskets in the backyard, etc. misfortune to complete either option 1 or 2 will force me to go on strike. I will no longer clean your house, buy or cook your food, launder your clothes, or share your bed. Until you declare which option you wish to take, consider your wife on strike.With best intentions,JeanieIt does not seem like Mom to be so forceful with Dad, and I do w onder if her new friend coached her through the writing of the two-page letter. It is very hard for me to deliver Dad returning his new television, especially after watching the Eagles win on the new set. His purchase will be considered good luck for sure, and Dad will want to watch next weeks Eagles game on the same television so he will not jinx the Birds, which is understandable. But the demands Mom made especially the one where Dad has to talk to me every night also seem incredibly improbable, although I do think it would be nice to eat dinner together as a family and maybe even go out to a restaurant, but not to the movies, since I am now only willing to watch the movie of my own life.Suddenly I need to speak with my brother, but I do not know his auditory sensation number. I find the address book in the cabinet above the stove and place a call to Jakes apartment. A charr picks up on the third ring her voice is beautiful.Hello? she says.I know it is not my brother on the o ther end, but I still say, Jake?Who is this?Its Pat Peoples. Im looking for my brother, Jake. Who are you?I hear the woman cover the phone with her hand, and then my brothers voice comes through loud and clear Did you see that ninety-eight-yard fumble return? Did you see Patterson run?I want to ask about the woman who answered my brothers phone, but I am a little afraid of finding out who she is. Maybe I should already know, but forget somehow. So I simply say, Yeah, I saw it.Frickin awesome, dude. I didnt know a defensive tackle could run that far.Why didnt you come over and watch the game with Dad and me?Truthfully?Yes.I cant lie to my brother. Mom called me this morning and told me not to come, so I went to a bar with Scott. She called Ronnie too. I know because Ronnie called me to make sure everything was okay. I told him not to worry.Why?Should he be worried?No, why did Mom tell you and Ronnie not to come over?She said it would give you a chance to be alone with Dad. She said i t would force Dad to talk to you. So did he?A little.Well, thats good, right?I found a note from Mom to Dad.What?I found a note from Mom to Dad.Okay. What did it say?Ill just read it to you.Go ahead.I read him the note.Shit. Go Mom.You know he wont be taking the television back now, right?Not after the Birds won today.Yeah, and Im worried that Dad wont be able to meet the demands.Well, he probably wont, but maybe hell at least try, right? And trying would be good for him and Mom.Jake changes the subject by mentioning Basketts catch in the second quarter, which turned out to be his only catch of the game. My brother doesnt want to talk about our parents anymore. He says, Basketts coming along. Hes an undrafted rookie, and hes acquiring catches. Thats huge. But it doesnt feel huge to me. Jake says hes looking forward to seeing me next Monday night, when the Eagles will play the Green Bay Packers. He asks me to have lunch in the city before we tailgate with Scott and the fat men, and then we hang up.Its getting late, and my mother is still not home.I begin to worry about her, and so I do all the dishes by hand. For a good fifteen minutes with steel wool I scrub the pan my father burned. And then I vacuum the family room. Dad had splattered some pizza sauce on the couch, so I find some cleaning spray in the hall cabinet and do my best to remove the stain dabbing lightly and then wiping a little harder in a circular motion, just like it says on the side of the bottle. My mom comes home as I am on my knees cleaning the couch.Did your father tell you to clean up his mess? Mom asks.No, I say.Did he tell you about the letter I wrote him?No but I found it.Well, then you know. I dont want you to do any cleaning, Pat. Were going to let this place rot until your father gets the message.I want to tell her I found the Pat box in the attic, how hungry I was today, that I really dont want to live in a filthy house, and I need to take one thing at a time finding the end o f apart time first and foremost but Mom looks so determined and almost proud. So I agree to help her make the house filthy. She says we will be eating takeout, and when my father is not home, everything will be as it was before she wrote the note, but when my father is home, we will be slovenly. I tell Mom that while she is on strike, she can sleep in my bed, because I want to sleep in the attic anyway. When she says shell sleep on the couch, I insist she take my bed, and she thanks me.Mom? I say when she turns to leave.She faces me.Does Jake have a girlfriend? I ask.Why?I called him today, and a woman answered the phone.Maybe he does have a girlfriend, she says, and then walks away.The indifference Mom shows regarding Jakes love life makes me feel as though I am forgetting something. If Jake had a girl friend Mom did not know about, she would have asked me a million questions. Her lack of interest suggests that Mom is keeping another secret from me, maybe something larger than wha t I found in the Pat box. Mom must be protecting me, I think, but I still want to know from what.