Serene slept on, the sleep of the dead.
Tera stood silent and pale, her freckles distinct patches of brown on her white face. He could hear Laird's footsteps. Tera let out a small cry before she closed the door. “Go downstairs,” she rasped to her son.
Steve sat up then and rubbed his eyes. His mouth felt dry and cracked, and when he brought his hands down, he stared perplexed at the dried brown blood under his nails. The sheets were covered in blood. It looked like someone had been bludgeoned. He stumbled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. “Christ,” he muttered to himself. He looked utterly gruesome, dried blood all over his body, caked in the corners of his mouth, in his eyebrows and hair. Dora had started her period last night and they had made love straight through it, undeterred. What a fucking sight they must look. He quickly washed his face and hands, grabbed his robe and hurried downstairs, but Tera was already gone.
52
Barbara March - 2020
* * *
Cuppa had outdone herself, Barbara thought as she took in the layout of food for their family dinner party. Spanakopita filled a white clay pan that sat next to the turquoise bowl of pesto pasta and a Mediterranean salad. On the stove was a cast iron skillet of halibut with butter, garlic and lemon sauce, and, for dessert, ramekins of coconut tapioca with a side of thinly sliced cantaloupe wedges. A cheese platter, wine and Gerolsteiner mineral water were placed prettily around a bouquet of roses on the dining room table. Brigitte Bardot radio played on Spotify, completing the ambiance. Jesse had been in charge of the flowers, arranging a variety of blooms into bouquets. He looked like an angelic flower girl in a light yellow embroidered lace dress, his mermaid blond hair flowing down his back, a wreath of pink carnations on his head. He'd painted his finger and toenails a light pink and persuaded Sara to wear similar attire, going for the twin look. Jesse had a thing about twins. If it were up to him, he and Sara would be in matching outfits all the time, but Sara's taste in clothes didn't run as feminine as his. Erica had donned an off-white linen long sleeve top and pants. Their head was newly shaved, and they’d put on red lipstick, a rare choice. Cuppa wore a Sanur Kaftan in tropical blue colors. And although the rest of the family had dressed like summer was already here, Barbara had donned a grey long sleeve sweater dress. Their mother's choice of jeans and t-shirt was automatically vetoed by Jesse, who herded her back to her bedroom, demanding she put on something nice. The other day she'd had her hair braided into small singles and the style made her look ten years younger, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and angular jaw. When she reemerged from the room, Barbara did a double take. Their mother looked hauntingly beautiful in a filmy black cold shoulder mini dress, the sleeves reaching just past her elbows. The outfit was completed with strappy black sandals.
"Tada," Jesse called out. "The new Dora. I mean Serene," he corrected himself.
Their mother smiled shyly at them.
"I did her makeup, too," Jesse said, beaming. He hadn't overdone it. As far as Barbara could tell, he'd only accentuated her eyes with black liner. Her lips were glossed but not colored.
"Wow! You look fetching," Cuppa exclaimed while setting down some wine glasses.
Serene smiled again and fluttered past Erica, who followed her with their eyes.
"Want me to bring in anything from the kitchen?" Serene offered.
"Sure," Cuppa said. "Could you grab some more wine glasses, love?"
There was something different about their mother. She seemed lighter and happier ever since the day she'd come home after spending the night out at a friend's on Thursday. Barbara, Sara and Jesse had gone to the library and missed the argument that ensued Friday morning between Erica and their mother. Barbara heard about it later after asking Cuppa where Erica was.
"Your mother and Erica had a bit of a tiff about your mother not coming home."
Earlier that afternoon, Serene had wandered into the living room, humming to herself and asked them how their day was. She'd accepted a cup of tea from Cuppa and made herself comfortable on the sofa, suddenly laughing.
"What's so funny?" Jesse had asked her.
"I was just thinking of when your dad and I were kids." Her answer was like a magnet drawing Jesse and Sara closer, though Sara pretended to be interested in Erica and Cuppa's wedding magazine on the coffee table. Their mother then told them story after story of her life as a teenager, and the antics she and their dad got up to. Her eyes shone in a way Barbara had never seen before, her voice girlish, the accent slightly different. Sara was so enthralled that, without realizing she was supposed to be pretending disinterest, she had crept closer, finally sitting next to their mother. Cuppa had flitted back and forth, serving endless cups of tea until it was time to start dinner. When Barbara had gone to help her in the kitchen, she'd noticed Cuppa's lips pressed tight into a frown of worry.
"You okay?" Barbara had asked her.
She'd jumped like someone caught on a secret.
"Just being a bit of a worrywart."
"What are you worried about?"
"Erica." Cuppa's smile was quick, and she'd turned her back to Barbara to chop an onion.
Oddly, while their mother seemed to be opening up more, Erica was growing more somber.
Yesterday when Barbara texted Tera to let her know that they were moving the dinner hour from seven to six, Tera had texted back, I won't be there. There was no other explanation. Barbara tried calling her, and after two rings the call was cut short and went to voicemail. Barbara had stared at her phone for a moment, wondering if she'd done something to offend Tera. When Barbara called her dad, he'd cryptically said that he and Tera were having issues and she couldn't make it to dinner.
Barbara watched her mother set the wine glasses on the table next to the platter of cheese. She was wearing large copper hoop earrings, and they glinted under the lamplight. She looked so, so young.
"Mom, you look beautiful," Barbara said.
Her mother glanced up, her face darkening with a blush. "Thank you. Jesse's idea."
"That boy knows style," Barbara winked at her brother, who looked pleased as punch. Their mother went back into the kitchen and the doorbell rang.
They were all there at once––Dad, Aunt Carrie, Grandma Maggie and Grandpa Ron. Grandma Maggie and Aunt Carrie held saran wrapped bowls.
"Hi all," Aunt Carrie called out cheerfully as they spilled into the living room. Jesse ran to her and threw his arms around her waist, followed by Sara.
"You two look enchanting," Aunt Carrie said, handing her bowl to Cuppa, who reached to take it from her hands.
"I made a spinach dip and those are bagel chips," Grandma Maggie said, indicating the bowl Carrie was holding as Cuppa took hers.
"Thank you. Glass of wine?" Cuppa offered.
"I'll have a glass of red," their grandma replied, her eyes darting over the children. "My, you two look like princesses." Her mouth worked its way into a frown of a smile. "I didn't know we were dressing up." She was in jeans and a cashmere black and white sweater top. Grandpa Ron also wore blue jeans as well as a silver windbreaker and a Dodger's baseball cap. He frowned at Jesse and Sara, but gave them a curt nod.
"Hi Barbara," he said and let his eyes drift over Erica and toward the kitchen. "Who's that?" He said, gesturing toward their mother, whose back was to them. She was pulling a dish out of one of the cabinets.
"Mom," Barbara said.
"Oh. Is that Dora? I thought she was one of your friends."
Their mother turned around, her big dark eyes blinking surprise as she stared at Barbara's grandparents for a moment, but then her eyes lingered on their dad. He seemed to freeze as if under some kind of spell.
"You're looking well, Dora," Grandpa Ron said, breaking the moment.
"Thank you.”
Grandma Maggie tilted her head as if she were trying to figure something out.
"I'll have a beer," Grandpa Ron said to Cuppa.
"I'm afraid we haven't any beer," Cuppa replied tersely, pouri
ng a glass of wine for Grandma Maggie.
Barbara's dad clapped his father on the arm. "Don't worry, I've got your beer right here." He held up a small black cooler and grinned.
"Well," Grandma Maggie said. "You didn't have to go through all that. I could have just brought some of ours over."
"Don't worry about it, Mom." He made his way into the kitchen, brushing past Erica after saying a quick hello to them. Erica blinked and went to stand by the table. Cuppa handed them a glass of wine.
"Can I put these beers in the fridge?" Steve called out.
"I'll take care of it," Cuppa said.
Their dad emerged with two beers and handed one to their grandpa, saying, "The place looks nice. I like the flowers."
"I arranged them," Jesse piped up, bouncing on his toes. "I made wreaths for everyone, too. Come on, Sara." He darted over to their bedroom, Sara following him. With the two younger ones out of the room, a stilted silence followed.
Cuppa returned to the dining room and asked Carrie what she'd like to drink, and then Erica spoke up.
"Cuppa, why don't you relax? Everyone can pour their own wine. You've outdone yourself. Please, take a break."
"Yeah," Carrie added. "Let me pour you some wine." She fingered the bottles. "This cheese spread looks amazing." She picked up a sliver of white cheddar and popped it into her mouth. "What are you having, Cuppa?"
Cuppa looked pained. "I'll have a Chardonnay," she said.
Carrie opened the bottle and poured two glasses. They all crowded around the table, helping themselves to drinks and hor d’oeuvres. Carrie raised her glass. "Here's to our family." Everyone clinked glasses just as Jesse and Sara came back, their arms loaded down with flowers. At first, Grandpa Ron balked at the idea of a wreath of flowers put around his head, but Aunt Carrie gave him a hard time and he finally took the flowers, positioning them awkwardly over his baseball cap. Barbara wanted to laugh and had to bite her lip to push the humor down, too ridiculous was the image of her macho grandfather standing there with a wreath of carnations around his head.
As if to prove that he hadn't entirely gone down the fairy path, he scowled and said,
"The Dodgers played the Rockies today. The Rockies didn't put up much of a fight, though. The Dodgers scored five runs off them in the first inning."
Barbara had no idea what any of that meant and by the looks on everyone else's faces, they were as clueless as her. Only her dad was nodding along, one eyebrow cocked, but he wasn't really looking at their grandpa. His eyes were on their mother. She stood like a long legged doe, sipping her wine, even more beautiful with the carnation wreath on her head, if that was possible. Even Grandpa's Ron's eyes kept snaking over in her direction.
"Right, baseball," Cuppa said as if she were going to add to his commentary, and then picked up a bagel chip, dipping it in the spinach dip, and popped it in her mouth. "Mmm. Delish, Maggie. Did you make this yourself?"
"Yes. It's one of my specialties," Maggie said, flashing her tight little smile. Grandpa Ron wandered over toward the living room and examined the photos on the wall. He guzzled down the rest of his beer, and their grandmother, right on cue, told him she'd get him another.
"Natalie Wood was a gorgeous woman," he said of the pictures of the actress. He squinted at the last photo. "But that's not her, is it? Looks like her."
"It's Ramani," Serene said, coming to stand by their grandpa.
He shot her a look of surprise. "Really?"
"Yes." A look played on her mother's features that Barbara couldn't decipher.
"Ramani was a looker," Barbara said, joining them, trying to insert a bit of lightness into what felt like a stranglehold of social tension.
"That she was," her grandfather agreed.
"Thank you for coming to dinner, Ron," Serene said quietly. "It's nice to have you and Maggie over."
Grandpa Ron's features softened. "I'm sorry to hear about your memory loss. That must be tough."
Serene nodded and the doorbell rang again.
"Are we expecting someone else?" Cuppa asked, glancing about with surprise. Erica shook their head no and went to answer the door.
"Ramani," Erica exhaled.
Barbara felt like a thousand butterflies had just been unleashed inside her chest as she saw her grandmother and John standing in the entryway.
"Surprise!" Ramani said, throwing up her arms and then chuckled.
"I couldn't talk her out of coming by without calling first," John said apologetically as they both stepped in. Ramani was holding a brown Whole Foods bag under her arm, and she was looking down at it as she talked. "I brought some dinner. Thought we could have a nice evening." She looked up and her words died away. "Oh," she said.
"Yes. Oh." John echoed. Barbara wanted to melt away. Literally, just become a puddle like the witch in The Wizard of Oz, because that's how she was feeling at that moment, like a witch. Here they all were, everyone but Ramani and John.
"Mom, there's food here already," Serene said, looking irritated and confused all at the same time. "Cuppa said she was doing all the cooking."
Now Ramani and John were the ones to look confused, and Barbara realized that her mother had no idea that she hadn't invited them. But it was an excellent save and Barbara forced a smile.
"Didn't you get my text?" She said to Ramani.
Ramani plopped her bag of takeout down on the table next to the neat arrangement of hor d’oeuvres and wine. "Barbara, you know I never look at those. Why didn't you call me?" She grinned. "I must have psychically known though. This can't have been a coincidence." She eyed the Bates, Grandma Maggie clutching at her necklace and Grandpa Ron scowling back at her. "Well, it's been a while. Ron, Maggie. What's the occasion?"
"Mom's memory," Jesse piped up. "We're bringing everyone together to help her with her memories."
"Ah," Ramani said, looking around some more. "Well, this is quite a reunion. Where's Tera?"
"She couldn't make it," their dad said, and then to Barbara's surprise, he blushed and took a swig of beer to cover up his discomfort. What was going on with him and his girlfriend? She wondered.
Ramani's eyes lingered on their mother. "Braids," she said and then smiled at Barbara. "Your mother used to wear her hair like that when she and your dad dated as kids. The style is becoming on you," she said to Serene. Barbara's mother touched her hair and her dad took another swig of beer.
"Well, that's neither here nor there," Grandma Maggie snapped, although her expression was one of worry. Erica stood by the open door, looking oddly out of place. Cuppa announced that dinner was ready and she and Carrie began to clear the table, Sara helping, her little face screwed up in thought like she was trying to figure out what was going on.
"We just need a few extra chairs," Cuppa said. "Afraid I miscounted."
"I'll get them," Barbara volunteered.
"I'll help," John said.
He followed close on her heels up the stairs, and once they were in Cuppa and Barbara's apartment, he sighed.
"We weren't invited, were we?"
"Of course you were," Barbara said, grabbing a chair.
He raised his brows at her.
"Okay, no, you weren't. But it's only because Ron and Maggie were coming over, and Ramani and my dad's parents get along like oil and water."
"Say no more. I can try to create an early exit for us."
"No." Barbara took a deep breath. "No, I don't want you to do that. You're here now. We'll just make the best of it."
John nodded. "Ramani knows too."
"She does?" Barbara made a face. "How can you tell?"
"It's not hard to figure out when there are only nine chairs, but there's supposed to be eleven of us. And let's face it, you never text Ramani, do you?"
"No." The heat of embarrassment flushed through Barbara's system.
"But Serene's question was a good save," John said.
"She honestly didn't know."
John smiled. "Yeah, that was obvious. And it saved face
for Ramani. Trust me, she won't let on she knows, she likes to be the star, but she will hint at it. At some point, she's going to ask where our wreaths are."
Barbara groaned.
"So, you better have a good story ready." He picked up a chair and headed back down.
They had not even made it to the bottom of the stairs before Barbara heard Ramani say, "what lovely wreaths. I'd love to wear mine."
"Oh, I-I," Jesse stuttered. Their grandmother's gaze was fixated on him, her smile big and feline.
"We miscalculated," Barbara said. "The last two wreaths barely had enough flowers to fill them out."
Grandpa Ron took his off and held it out toward Ramani. "Here, have mine."
She took it, eyes shining. "Why, thank you, Ron." Then she turned and headed for the kitchen. "I brought some soups and Indian food."
Erica stepped in front of her. "Cuppa has already put together a full menu. You and John can take that back with you. Have it for another night." Their voice was soft but firm.
"Oh. Alright." Ramani ran her hands through her thin curls. "What can I do to help?"
"Please just relax. Have a glass of wine," Erica said through their teeth.
Barbara and John set the chairs at the table, and the rest wandered over to take their seats.
Somehow, Ramani and Ron wound up sitting opposite each other, a terrible arrangement. Cuppa hovered for a moment over Ramani, utterly flustered, before giving up on trying to find some excuse to get her to move.
Grandma Maggie said, "shall we say grace?"
"Absolutely," Ramani agreed, placing her hands in a prayer position, and plunged ahead to lead the prayer. "Goddess, bless this food." She began and continued with a longish blessing, followed up with a song about embracing the earth and all her abundant gifts. Grandpa Ron glowered down at his plate during the prayer. When she finally finished, everyone mumbled blessings and amens. During the meal, compliments flowed freely to Cuppa.
"Mmm," Ramani said after placing a bite full of spanakopita in her mouth. "This is just divine, Cuppa."
"Thank you."
"Did you get the recipe from Tera? I recall she made this a few months ago."
Her Last Memory Page 27
