19. “You Are the Best Thing”

19

"YOU ARE THE BEST THING"

RAY LAMONTAGNE

F ive o'clock on the dot that same night, my phone rang as I was getting settled into my favorite lounge chair next to the pool. You could time an Olympic race with Kari's accuracy.

My first instinct was to make some sarcastic comment, but the boys were leaving for college in a week and I did have some couth.

"How's it goin' Mama?"

"They are all packed up and itching to go. And I have to say, I'm right along with them. I never thought the day would come when I would be ready to drop them off somewhere else and not see them for months. But if the last several weeks have taught me anything, it's that there's a ‘just right' time to let your little birds fly from the nest… and this is definitely ours."

"It's not easy, Kar, and you may feel this way now that you're ready to let go a little bit. But your emotions are going to change, and they'll keep changing over time. You know if you need someone to talk to next weekend, I've been through it, and I'm always here for you." I did not envy her the mechanical bull ride of emotions that was ahead .

"I know you are. And I know there will be some tough days ahead, but right now, I'm ready."

"Seven days will fly by in a blink, so enjoy as much as you can with them. Later, when they're too busy to call and check in, and you're standing in the doorway of their empty rooms wondering where eighteen years went, you'll be glad you did."

"Pray for me next weekend," she said, a sobering hitch in her voice.

"It's gonna be a mixed bag for sure, hun, but you can do it. Every time you want to stop your car and run back to drag them home, just think about wrapping paper gate."

"Don't remind me. I have enough to keep my memory fresh every time I go and check on the progress at my house. Sometimes I wonder if my hair has gotten curlier from shock with all the crap they've pulled. I know you're right, though. I'll try my best to be patient and present for the next week. No one warns you how hard it is to raise teenagers."

"Ahem… I–"

"—Shut up. I know. I thought you were being dramatic. You made it look so easy."

"None of it was easy, Kar. But it was all worth it."

"Yeah, well…"

I decided to let it go. I knew Kari well enough to realize she was masking her true feelings, and her irritation was a defense mechanism to get her through the next few weeks. We caught up on the progress on the house (not much), and the progress on my book (not much), and after a few more minutes of pointless chatter, we said "see you soon," and sat breathing into the silence, both of us feeling the weight of the words that had ended every call and visit for the last forty-five years. "Soon" had become relative in the wake of my departure, and for the first time, our customary promise had become a figure of speech.

After we eventually ended the call a few moments later, I moved over to the side of the pool and sat, dangling my legs into the cool water. As I swished them back and forth, I felt the resistance of the water, then the release as they pushed through the swirling wake they created.

I reflected on my journey to get there. My scrolling memories glanced off the key moments in my adult life when the end result of a difficult decision had profoundly impacted me. Shaped me into the person I was at that moment. Increasingly difficult choices I made as an adolescent, a wife, a mother, a friend, a person .

Do I major in business or English?

Do I go on a date with this guy… or that one?

Do I marry him?

Do I end my marriage when I've tired of someone else telling me who I am and what I'm capable of?

Do I take a chance and apply for a job that I'm wholly underqualified for but is exactly what I'd dreamt of?

Do I dress up or down for my first day?

Do I move into the city with Kari?

Do I accept a date from the cute new guy in accounting?

Do I move in with Mark?

Do I marry him?

Do we start our family now?

Do I work from home or bring Jason to daycare?

Do we have another baby?

Do I put our strong-willed Anna in time out… or myself?

Do I donate my eggs so Kari can experience the sleepless nights and swells of joy that accompany motherhood?

Do we buy a house in the more-family-friendly neighborhood Kari discovered?

Do we redo the kitchen or slap another coat of paint on it?

Do I go to Jason's soccer match or Anna's?

Do I try to hide myself in Jason's luggage when he leaves for college tomorrow ?

Do I start writing a book now?

Do I beg Mark to stay?

Do I absolutely have to get out of bed?

Do I try to write a different story?

Do I fly out to the Pacific Northwest with Anna or let her be her independent self and leave for Washington State on her own? Without me?

Do I have to?

Do I get a puppy?

Do I try to write yet another story?

Do I want pizza or Chinese for dinner tonight?

Do I sell this house and all the memories it contains and start over somewhere else?

Do I let my parents in or pretend I never came downstairs and go back to bed?

Do I pack a bag and stay in Uncle Mike's house for a few months to see if I can break out of this funk?

Do I take I-65 toward Louisville or I-55 through Memphis?

Do I go to Clearwater Beach or Honeymoon Beach today?

Do I want to make myself chicken marsala or beef and broccoli?

Do I need a new pair of golf shoes? (The answer to this question is always yes.)

Do I keep trying to write this book or throw in the towel altogether?

Do I need help with better strategies for getting words on the page?

Do I find someone who can help me?

Thirteen hundred miles away, someone who watched—and when asked, helped—me make most of those decisions was working on the answer to the one that was currently weighing on me. And as usual, his guidance would change everything.

Sunday morning, the phone rang at nine a.m. I saw the call was coming from my mother's number. Living in the Eastern time zone meant I was an hour ahead of my parents, bringing our acceptable time for phone calls into closer alignment.

I tapped the green button to accept the call. "Hey, mom."

"Hey there, Tiger." I could hear my father yell.

Speakerphone. Of course. What is it with parents and speakerphone? "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. What are you up to today?"

"Well, we were coming back from the grocery store, and we drove by your house and saw the twins outside mowing your lawn. It's nice to see Kari's got them busy," my mom replied.

"I'm happy to hear they're maintaining the grass. They do such a nice job with it."

"Yes, they do. We stopped by there earlier in the week to talk to Kari, and it seems like she's chosen a contractor from the estimates that came in," my mom continued.

My dad's voice came over the phone next. "Sounds like they might be done within two to three months. She showed us the plans for the kitchen. They're trying to make lemonade out of Camry lemons and drew out all the changes to the kitchen they've been dreaming about since they moved in. The contractor they like best had 3D drawings and presented them with a feasible plan. It's really going to be something."

"That's great news. I'm sure I'll get the update when she calls later."

My dad cleared his throat. "I've been thinking, sweetheart."

My throat seized.

Here we go. More thinking for them spells more change for me.

"As I mentioned, I've still got those university contacts. My former colleague, Caleb, is actually living in Tampa, not too far from you. I was wondering if it might be helpful for you to sit down and talk to him. He has written quite a few books himself, and I remember when he was getting started with them while we were working together. He struggled with writer's block quite a bit with the first few."

I felt my breath escape, unaware I'd been holding it. Had I not just given in to this very idea the night before? "That might work, Dad. I really appreciate it. But I'd hate to take up a bunch of someone else's time."

"Oh, no. He loves mentoring new authors. Trust me, he will absolutely love this."

"And I really think you're going to like him," my mom interjected. "I've met him several times at different university events when your dad was teaching full-time, and he is a very energetic and likable guy. You'd learn a lot from him."

"Why don't I send you his number and you can decide what you want to do with it?"

"I'd appreciate that, Dad. I'll let you know if anything comes of it."

"You do that, sweetheart. Well, we just wanted to check in, and talk to you about reaching out to Caleb. I'm going to have a chat with him today and see if he's got some availability. We'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sounds good. Thank you both for calling. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye, sweetheart," they said in unison.

I tapped the red button to end the call and smiled to myself, touched by adorable they were together. My mind slid to our conversation, and I considered how I would feel about being mentored. I knew I could use the help, but had no idea how the process would even work. I'd taken creative writing courses in college, and they'd been an expensive waste of time.

"I guess I'll wait and see what happens, if and when he calls," I said to Roxy, who was standing next to my bed wagging her tail in what I could only assume was encouragement. "Let's go, furball. It's time to start thinking about breakfast."

I sat in the sunroom with my ‘second lunch' of cheese and crackers balanced on my knees, ready for service. A huge ficus sat to my left, its leaves reaching for the sunlight that streamed freely through the wall of white plantation-shuttered windows across from me.

When my phone began to ring, I moved the plate to the glass-topped table next to my glass of iced tea. I settled into the plush, muted turquoise velvet cushions that covered the white rattan couch and answered the call.

"Hi, Grace."

"Hey Paige. Will you be at league this week?"

"I absolutely will. I'm looking forward to it. I actually bought a new glove, and a new pair of shoes mysteriously arrived in the mail yesterday. Wink, wink."

"Oh, I can't wait to see them. Ok, so, full disclosure, I wasn't calling to ask about league."

"Okay… what's up?" I sat up and took a sip of my iced tea, then settled back into the couch.

"The leader of our book club is looking for a place to host the next meeting," Grace began, "and I was hoping you would be interested in opening up your home for the evening. A little birdie mentioned you've got a lot of space, and it would be a great excuse for me to come and see your house."

"That would probably work. What day is it?"

"It's three weeks from this Thursday."

"I don't really have a whole lot planned as of yet, so I'm going to have to say that chances are good it would work for me." I eyed the cheese on my plate. It was already starting to sweat.

"Really? Oh, that would be so great. From what Elyse tells me, your house is gorgeous. I can't wait to see it, and I bet the other ladies will be just as thrilled. We've all talked about the houses along Victoria Drive."

"I'm happy to host. What do I need to do?"

"We typically bring snacks when we meet somewhere other than the library, so if you want to have a couple hors d'oeuvres in place, we'll each bring one snack with us. It's a bit of a potluck."

"Sounds great. I love reading and eating, so that works for me."

"Fabulous. I'll let the other ladies know. Thank you so much, Paige. I'm looking forward to seeing you at league this week."

"Me too. I'll be the one in the hot pink golf shoes."

"All right. Thank you, Sugar. I will talk to you soon."

We hung up a moment later, leaving me to my cheese and a breathtaking view of the bay.

On the way into the house after our nightly walk, my phone began to sing.

"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard ? —"

I scrambled to extract it from my pocket, eager to share the week's developments with Anna. "Hi. I'm so happy you called." I said calmly. Ok, fine. I pretty much shouted it. While I'd eventually accepted that my contact with the kids had gradually slowed from the constant neediness of infancy and toddlerhood to a weekly phone call, I knew in my heart I'd never really get used to it. Every Sunday, I answered their calls like a retiree waiting for a call from Publisher's Clearinghouse.

"Hi, Mom. How is Florida? Wait. Don't answer that yet. Jason is waiting for me to dial him in. Do you want to FaceTime?"

"Yes. That would be great. Roxy would love to see you. "

"Just Roxy, huh?" Her tone was teasing, but she followed it up with a laugh that hadn't changed since she was a girl. A quick, high-pitched burst that ended with a sigh. It never failed to make my heart squeeze a little tighter every time I heard it.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind seeing you too. If I must."

"Silly. Ok, hang on. I'll FaceTime you right back."

She disconnected the call. While I waited, I got myself settled in the sunroom. Within moments of sitting down, her face flashed across the screen, and I answered before the ‘milkshake' even had a chance.

There they were, smiling back at me. Seeing their faces never got old. While Jason had inherited Mark's height, deep blue eyes, and dark blonde hair, Anna was the spitting image of her mother—sans the hairstyle and skunk stripe… but only time would tell.

"Ok, now you can answer," prompted Anna. "How is Florida? Do you love it? Are you making tons of friends? Have you pranked any of them yet? How is Roxy handling her new environment?"

"You look great, Mom," Jason said in the deep baritone voice that had come seemingly out of nowhere in between his Sophomore and Junior years of high school. "The saltwater and sunshine agree with you."

"It's so wonderful to hear your voices and see your faces," I gushed. "I miss you both a ton. Things are great here; Roxy spends her days chasing lizards, I've joined the ladies' league and a book club, and I've already made some friends. It sounds like I might also be hosting the book club meeting in a few weeks."

Both of my kids were completely still and uncharacteristically silent.

"Did I lose you? I wonder if the WiFi went out. Blink if you can hear me."

Anna was the first to break out of her stupor and her wide smile overtook the top half of my phone screen. "Mom, that's incredible. I'm… Wow. I'm impressed."

Jason, typically a man of fewer words than the ladies in his life, seemed to shake off his temporary speechlessness. "You've been busy. I'm so happy to hear you've made friends already, Mom, although that doesn't shock me at all."

"Oooohhhh, Aunt Kari isn't going to like that one bit," chuckled Anna.

"Well then, she can get her butt on a plane and come visit me."

"Good luck with that," replied Jason. "It's a good thing she's managing that construction project, or she probably would have hung on your leg like a puppy while you got in the Jeep to leave."

That mental image brought up a bubble of laughter, and soon, the three of us were roaring.

"She might already be there. Have you checked under your beds?" quipped Anna, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, not holding her phone. "You being in another state might be the only thing that will ever get her to leave that zip code for more than an errand."

"I'm sure it's far too dusty under the beds for her. She'd be out in a flash looking for a dust mop."

That set off another round of giggles, which we all capped off with a simultaneous sigh—as usual. No matter how many miles were between us, one undeniable truth remained. Distance could not break the bonds we'd formed through the laughter that had been ever-present throughout their childhoods. Humor was a basic tenet of our relationship, and it had gotten us through some pretty tough times.

"Enough about me. And Aunt Kari. You guys tell me about your week."

Jason and Anna took turns filling me in on what had happened since we'd talked on my way to Florida. Jason briefly outlined the skyscraper project his firm had successfully bid on and won, after which Anna went into great detail about the progress her university research team had made on their summer internship project. Both of them beamed with pride—for themselves and each other. The bond they shared was evident, even over a video call on a five-inch screen. Our relationship—and theirs—was a source of pride for me. I'd known many families that had folded under the devastation caused by teenage years and divorce. Somehow, the three of us had weathered the one-two punch and come out stronger for it.

We stayed on the call for another twenty minutes, each of them taking turns asking Roxy for her opinion on her new digs and accepting her tail wag as a matter of opinion. When it was time to hang up, instead of the crushing sadness that typically accompanied our goodbyes, my heart was full. For the first time in as long as I could remember, our call had filled my emotional batteries instead of leaving me feeling the need to crawl into bed.

We said goodbye, and I set my phone down on the counter.

"Who's ready for dinner?" I asked Roxy. "I'll cook. You get too much hair in our food." I'm fairly certain she rolled her eyes, but I didn't mind. Not everyone got my sense of humor.