Page 34 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
Even after Oliver left for college, he still made sure to take care of his dad and brother. He texted them every day, called when he could. He set up bank accounts for his dad and Ben, too, and deposited money from whatever jobs Oliver could juggle in between classes, just to make sure his dad and brother always had a way out, if they needed to leave Jennifer.
“Ben, what’s wrong?” Oliver said, almost hyperventilating as he answered his call now.
“Hiiii, Unkie Owiver!” his twin nephews shouted. Noah and Davy were four years old, and their chubby faces filled the entire screen.
“Oh thank god.” Oliver exhaled. “Hey, buddies. How are you?”
“We wanna show you something,” Davy said. “We made a wego wobsta!”
“Wow, a LEGO lobster?” A smile spread across Oliver’s face. “Can I see it?”
“Yeah! Here it is!” Noah stuck the mass of LEGOs right up to the phone so that all Oliver could see was red.
He laughed while, in the background, he heard his brother say, “That is quite a close-up, Noah. How about you back it up a tiny bit?”
The LEGO lobster retreated, and Oliver could see it better. It was… Well, if he used a lot of imagination, he could see how it was a lobster. “That’s incredible work,” he told Davy and Noah. “It looks so good, I could eat it.”
“No!” They giggled. “It’s not weal! You’ll bweak your teeth, Unkie Owiver!”
“It’s a good thing I have my dentist on speed dial.”
They giggled again, even though they probably had no idea what speed dial was. That was the great thing about little kids. No matter how bad your joke, they thought you were the most hilarious person in the world.
That was probably why so many dads had an affinity for puns. They started out as funny when the kids were small. And when the kids turned into teenagers, the dads held on to their puns because if they couldn’t get a laugh, they could at least get a groan, which was better than angsty adolescent silence.
“All right, boys,” Ben said. “Go off and play. I’m going to talk to your uncle Oliver for a few minutes.”
They ran away, laughing and chattering.
“Hey,” Ben said, turning the phone to himself. “Sorry about the shouting. My pastry chef whipped up a new cookie recipe today and gave the boys a taste. They’re still on the sugar high.”
Oliver shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Davy and Noah were a welcome sight. Let me guess… Lobster was on the menu recently, hence their LEGO inspiration?”
Ben chuckled and nodded. But then his expression sobered. “I wanted to thank you for hiring the home nursing service so quickly. It’s only been a couple days, but they’ve already been a huge help to me and Elsa, and they’re good with Dad—getting him what he needs, helping him with baths and lifting him in and out of chairs and beds.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
In front of Oliver, a group of seventysomethings posed for a photo in front of the eighteen-foot-high bronze Prometheus fountain in the middle of Rockefeller Center. They kicked their legs up in sync, as if they were Radio City Rockettes. Oliver turned away. His dad would never move like that again. Not that he’d choose to do a Rockette kick if he could. But still.
“How’s Dad doing?” he asked.
“You know how he is, he’ll never complain,” Ben said. “But he’s happier this week, I think. The nurses take him out in his wheelchair and he brings his binoculars and gets to watch the birds. It’s been really good for Dad to be outside.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Ben said. “Don’t worry so much about us. You should be enjoying yourself in the Big Apple. You’re young, rich, and not even that ugly.”
“Ha ha. But you know I pretty much work all the time.”
“You’re allowed to have a life, you know.”
Oliver arched a brow. “My boss recently said the same thing. Anyway, you’re one to talk. If you’re not home taking care of Dad, you’re at your restaurant. You work all the time, too.”
“Yeah, well, I guess we were both traumatized by Mom losing all our savings. It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to figure out that working gives us a sense of security. But still,” Ben said, “seriously, you should do something for yourself sometimes. Call up a friend. Or go on a date. You know that Noah and Davy would love it if you made some baby cousins for them.”
Oliver snorted. “That’s not happening. But hell, I’ve already ditched work today. Maybe Iwilldo something for myself. Might as well make the afternoon worth it, right?”
“Definitely. Hey, and we’re all looking forward to seeing you soon when you come down here to D.C.”
