Free The Girl From Home by Adam Mitzner Page A

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    The Levinsons were the last to leave the party. When they made it to the doorway, Mrs. Levinson air-kissed his mother and then turned to make actual cheek contact with his father, at which time Mr. Levinson moved in to kiss Jonathan’s mother good-bye. He most likely was planning to kiss her on the cheek, but at the last moment Jonathan’s mother’s head shifted so she caught him full on the lips, and then she lingered there. It couldn’t have been more than a tenth of a second, but it was long enough for Jonathan’s eyes to shoot over to his father. His gaze was still turned to Mrs. Levinson, however, so Jonathan was the only witness to the transgression.
    And then the absolute worst part happened—the part that still makes Jonathan wince when he thinks about it. Phillip Levinson, his father’s best friend, turned and said, “Bill, as always, I thoroughly enjoyed your hospitality.”
    Jonathan understood in no uncertain terms that for Phillip Levinson, cuckolding his supposed best friend was far more pleasurable than having sex with his supposed best friend’s wife. Jonathan also knew that the proper response would have been to direct his anger toward his mother. She was the one, after all, who had betrayed their family. And yet, since that day, he always laid blame solely at his father’s feet. None of this would have happened if William Caine had been more of a man. Able to satisfy his wife, and capable of putting the fear of God in the hearts of the Phillip Levinsons of the world, so that they knew they took their lives into their own hands if they even thought about interfering with what was his.
    Jonathan was far from an introspective person, but even he knew that the experience was formative, not only in creating the distance between him and his father that persisted to this day, but in shaping the man he had become. In the end, it was Phillip Levinson—a man who took what he wanted—who became his role model, and Jonathan’s father was reduced to a cautionary tale.
    When the skater’s routine is completed, the elder Caine turns away from the screen. Jonathan views it as his cue to speak.
    â€œSo I went to my high school reunion last night.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI told you about it yesterday. Do you remember?”
    â€œUm. Okay.”
    Jonathan assumes that his father has no recollection of the previous day’s discussion, and that rattling off names of his long-lost classmates will only confuse him. But when the next figure skater takes the ice, his father’s focus stays with Jonathan, as if he’s trying to engage and is looking for help.
    â€œDo you remember Jacqueline Lawson?” Jonathan asks.
    â€œNo,” his father says. “Is she your friend?”
    â€œI went to high school with her. We weren’t friends back then, but she was the prettiest girl in the class. Prom queen and all that.”
    â€œYour mother was the prettiest girl in my class,” he replies.
    This isn’t true. Jonathan’s parents didn’t attend high school together. He sees no reason to correct his father, however, so he continues about Jackie.
    â€œShe still lives in East Carlisle, so we may see each other for lunch while I’m here. She’s married to this guy who was a real jerk in high school and, by all accounts, hasn’t changed much since then.”
    Silence ticks by, which Jonathan has by now realized doesn’t necessarily mean that a response will not be forthcoming. But this time, none comes. William Caine has since retreated into the black hole that is his illness.
    *  *  *
    Two hours later, Jonathan is back at his house—his parents’ house, more accurately—composing a text message.
    So nice seeing you, Jackie (I remembered, not Jacqueline). Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?
    He reads it again. His main concern is that he’ll frighten her away, and he almost