Falling in Love with Natassia by Anna Monardo

Author:Anna Monardo [Monardo, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780385518857
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2006-06-20T04:00:00+00:00

A GOOD MOTHER. The headmaster of Hiliard School had said it himself. If I need witnesses in court, maybe I can get Franklin. Some part of Mary’s mind was always preparing to be brought to court by David Stein. He still was giving her a hard time on the phone, really lording it over her that his detective-writer helped get the police to back off of the suicide-attempt follow-up, even though Dr. Jonson’s call had been the important one. “You can’t just take Natassia like that,” David yelled, “out of the hospital, like some kind of hostage.”

Lotte got on the extension. “Yes, she can, David. Natassia’s her daughter. Mary can do what she wants.”

“What about Ross?” David yelled at Lotte. “Natassia’s got a father, you know.”

“Don’t you start on Ross.” The arguing continued between David and Lotte, who were in different rooms in the same apartment but yelling at each other via a long-distance phone call. “The way you talk to him,” Lotte told David, “how can he bring himself here?”

After listening to a few rounds, not getting a word in, Mary quietly hung up.

Two days later, Lotte and David drove up to Hiliard, without calling ahead, and David asked Natassia what she wanted to do: go back to New York with them, go to stay with her father in Washington State, go to a hospital, or stay where she was?

“I guess I want to stay here,” Natassia said. Even Mary was shocked. Of all the adults reaching out to help Natassia, Mary felt her offerings were the most meager. “I mean, since I’m here,” Natassia said, “I may as well just stay. For a while.”

Lotte and David were standing in the center of the cottage, filling it up with their tallness, their largeness, her expensive flowing purple-and-black clothes, his wrinkled wool overcoat, their bulging leather bags, and a heap of “supplies” for Natassia. Lotte had a suitcase with Natassia’s clothes. David had Natassia’s violin, which she didn’t want. They brought her a MoMA bag full of bound galleys so Natassia would have reading material, and a Zabar’s shopping bag full of weird cheeses and pâtés and other stuff Natassia was used to eating, foods that Mary couldn’t quite figure out. Lotte made a big deal over a pomegranate. “Cut into this soon, girls, I’m telling you, it’s perfect. Now.”

And then David handed over to Natassia a Zabar’s bag with something he said was extra-special. “Here, love, your grandmother almost forgot this, but I know how much you like it. This is from me,” he insisted, “and I want you to enjoy it. Every bite. You don’t need to give any of this to your mother. She wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“Da-vid.” Lotte sighed. “Jesus Christ, do you have to insult someone, always?”

“It’s okay,” Mary said. “Honey, what did David bring you?”

Natassia looked into the bag and smiled. “Poppy, great.” Mary could hear the effort in her voice. “A David Glass chocolate-mousse cake.”

“Mary, here’s a pint of delicious chicken soup with good matzoh balls.

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