Chapter Three

"How did you sleep Richie?" Etheline asked buttering her toast and gazing at him intently.

"I slept well. No dreams, as usual," he replied, not touching the eggs, sausage, or the toast prepared for him.

"Well dreams are unnecessary anyway. They're just distractions right? And it's not like you can remember them when you wake up," she continued.

"I remember my dreams," Margot put in, not looking at anyone in particular and especially not Richie.

"Oh? Any you'd like to share?" Etheline persisted.

"No. Not really…"

"Yeah, mom I'm not really feeling like I want to have a dream discussion. You should take that up with Raleigh," Richie said after clearing his throat thoroughly. He pushed his plate away from him and folded his hands in his lap.

Margot shot him a look similar to the one a mother takes on after hearing her son's been having sex for the first time. Any thoughts of further conversation were at that point vanquished.

"How's business?" Margot finally asked Henry out of complete desperation to change the air of the room.

Henry looked up from his plate, apparently surprised to be invited into the conversation by anyone other than Etheline.

"Business is good. Slowing down, but its still putting bread on the table," he answered politely.

"Business slowed down for me a long time ago. I think it's getting better though," she remarked half-heartedly.

"And what is it that you do again Margot?"

She sighed.

"I'm a writer," was her almost regretful response.

"And a damn good one," Etheline chimed in. "Henry did you know she was awarded a 50,000 dollar grant in the 9th grade for a play she wrote?"

"Mom stop-"

"It's true! Royal and I were delighted when we found out. You know she started writing so long ago I can't even-"

"Mom shut up. You know I haven't completely one God damn thing 16 years. Stop acting like I'm still your immaculate genius daughter," Margot stated this calmly as opposed to yelling it which would have been the preferred way of most. She took her plate into the kitchen and later locked herself in her room.

Etheline watched her go and then turned back to her newspaper.

"I thought I was helping," she mumbled.

Uzi Tenenbaum hardly touched hiscereal this morning, and for the first time he realized he was probably the only 12 year old boy in New York eating off brand cornflakes in low fat soy milk. The thought disgusted him. He wanted to be normal, like the other kids at his school. Like Brian Hatching. But looking down at his red tracksuit, and running his fingers through his curly black hair he remembered he wasn't, and as long as he lived with his father he never would be.

"How did you sleep Ari?" Chas asked gulping his coffee down like an addict.

Yes, how did you sleep Ari? I would love to know. It doesn't really matter how Uzi slept, he's not the one going to Oxford when he turns sixteen. He's not the one that spends his time writing out financial plans; he's the one who spends his time in detention.

"I slept ok dad. No dreams," Ari said scooping up the last of his not-right-cornflakes onto his spoon.

"No? None for me either," Chas replied brightly.

Liar. Uzi knew he'd had another dream about Mom. Whenever he had a dream like that he always came down stairs acting like the happiest man alive so Ari wouldn't worry. Keep Ari happy and hopeful.

"I had a dream dad," Uzi put in. "About mom."

Great, Ari thought. Of all the days to ruffle dad's feathers Uzi picked this one. Why? Why did Uzi think it was fun to see dad fall apart? He certainly didn't think it was fun, he thought it was scary. But Uzi was always finding new ways to rattle dad's cage. It was all a game to him.

"Did you?" Chas said nervously playing with his zipper.

"Yep. It was the day of the plane crash. Remember? You and her had that big fight and so she moved to the back of the plane and you told her it was fine and that you didn't want to sit with her anyway? Well, in my dream she didn't go to the back you did. But you didn't die you just weren't around anymore. It was like you just went away after the plane ride. Isn't that weird?"

Uzi was such a liar. He told me about that dream last year, Ari thought. And he told me he would never tell dad, it would make him sad. But that was Uzi for you, always breaking his promises.

Chas' face tightened and his eyes hardened. He knew what Uzi was doing. He did this every once in a while, making him feel guilty about Rachel's death that is. Uzi had been angry with him since the funeral and he wasn't the forgiving type. Like father like son, eh?

"That's an interesting dream Uzi. How did it make you feel?" Chas asked trying to smile.

This was just like him, Uzi thought. Mocking me. Well he can suck it cause I'm not taking it anymore.

"I'm done," he declared and dumped his untouched cereal into the sink.

"Don't worry about him dad. He's just cranky," Ari told his father after watching his negative reaction to the situation. "He'll get over it."

"No he won't," Chas murmured sadly. "He's got too much of me in him."

Eli Cash sat in his car with the top down. It was scorching but he didn't move.

Ditched rehab today, he wrote in his journal. I don't know why I did it, it wasn't very smart. They'll just make me stay with the program longer. But maybe I don't want to be straight. Maybe I enjoy the high I get. Why should anyone give a fuck if I enjoy shooting up every now and again, it's not any of their business?

But there is still the Tenenbaum situation. Richie wants nothing more than to see me go straight, and Margot feels the same way. This isn't you Eli, she once told me. You're better than this. Well maybe I am and maybe I'm not, she doesn't know my self worth. Maybe I'm just a loser and this is who I am. She knows nothing.

Chas and I were never all that close but I we talk from time to time and ever since I killed his dog I feel like I owe it to him and the kids. I mean, a guy can't just go running around New York City killing dogs and ruining weddings can he? No. I have to go sober. It's the only option…

I ditched rehab today. I don't know why I did it, it was stupid and I'm considering going back. But I'm not going to.

Eli threw his journal into the glove box and drove away.