“Relax.” Joe slipped his arm through mine. “It’s all good. We’ll hold it after the regular church service on Sunday afternoon. A small gathering. I’ll say a few prayers and bless the baby, welcoming him. Rabbi Sarah and I will coordinate our efforts, because I’m particularly fond of the prayer where the Jews say every Sabbath exhorting their sons, ‘May you be like Abraham and Isaac.’”
“But they don’t. I hate to correct you, but it’s, ‘May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh,’” I said. “Anyway, Rabbi Sarah will say the priestly blessing and include Anya and Erik, too. I’ve already asked her.”
“Hmm,” Joe said.
That’s when it dawned on me that I’d corrected a priest. My stomach turned a flip. How totally disrespectful could I get? Oh, golly!
He peered at me curiously. “I forget sometimes what a truly extraordinary woman you are, Kiki Lowenstein Detweiler. You bring people together under a tent of love. That’s remarkable.” With that, he gave me a hug and added, “Don’t forget that Laurel and I have the paperwork you gave us so that we can be your children’s legal guardians should anything ever happen. Not that it will, but it was the most wonderful responsibility anyone ever invested in us. But you need to take a copy and keep it in a safe place. Ours will go in a lock box.”
“I will.”
CHAPTER 6
Pancakes are a tradition in our family on Sunday mornings. This particular morning, Cara and Detweiler took turns pouring batter into funny shapes. She’s a big fan of Mickey Mouse’s silhouette and her efforts to replicate the three interlocking circles were spot on.
“Wow! That’s great!” Erik was tickled by her artistic efforts.
“Y’all need a family vacation in Orlando. We’ve got to get this child to Disney World,” Cara said.
“I took my wee master there frequently,” Brawny answered with a huff. In honor of the upcoming ceremony, she was dressed in her clan’s best dress tartans, a darker version of her normal attire. “Are ye thinking I failed in my responsibilities as a child minder? Miss Cara, keep it up and you’ll be feeling the sharp end of my stick.”
“Oh, no! Not the sharp end of her stick,” wailed Erik in mock distress.
That sent everyone into gales of laughter.
After eating our fill, the rest of us hurriedly got ready for church. Brawny had sewn a new dress for me, a simple navy A-line that buttoned down the front so I could easily nurse Ty. Anya had a navy skirt, crisp white blouse and short gray sweater. Erik matched her in navy slacks, a white polo shirt, and a gray sweater. Detweiler looked dashing in a new navy suit. And the baby? He outshone us all.
Shortly after Ty was born, Leighton had brought over an elaborate christening gown that had been in the Haversham family for centuries. “I’ll understand if you have no interest in it, but Lorraine insisted that I at least be courageous enough to offer.”
Although I’d half expected Detweiler to guffaw and send the man on his way, instead he tenderly lifted the fine fabric and held it to the light. “To think that generations of good people before Ty have worn this makes it a real honor, Leighton. Thank you.”
We’d agreed to pack in the diaper bag an adorable little boy’s suit in navy and white that Laurel and Joe had given us as well. That way, we could change Ty out of the keepsake after the ceremony and put the gown away for the future.
“Who knows,” Deweiler said. “Maybe one day, Anya’s babies will wear it, too.”
The idea of one family being connected to another through the ages brought a tender smile to my husband’s face. But it also brought up a tender subject.
“Who all will be coming? From your side?” I asked as I waited for him to hook my single strand of pearls behind my neck. I knew my sisters would bring my mother if they could manage to slip her a Xanax first. She’d grown increasingly unpredictable, emotionally up and down, oscillating between cheerful and distraught in the course of hours. Soon we’d have to find a new home for her, as leaving her by herself grew increasingly more dangerous. Of course, Leighton and Lorraine would join us, but because her MS had recently flared up, we’d pointed out they could simply join us at Cara Mia’s, the restaurant that the Delgattos owned for years. There we’d have a celebratory family meal. Not that we didn’t want Lorraine there for the service, but there was no need for her to brave the cold twice. The group from my store—Clancy, Margit, Rebekkah and her father, Horace Goldfader—had all been invited and were expected to come. As I fingered the pearl necklace that George Lowenstein had given me after Anya was born, I wondered if there was a pearl for each person who brought luster to my life. When I put it away, I’d have to name each creamy bead, and see if the number predicted that I had more friends yet to add.
“My sisters and their husbands, Emily, Hadcho,” he paused. “And yes, my parents, too. Kiki, I know what happened with my mother on Friday. How she acted toward you.”
I didn’t turn around. Instead, I fiddled with my earrings. “Oh?”
“After you left, she came in and gave Brawny a piece of her mind.”
“Really?” I took my time rather than meet his eyes. Being careful not to squirt him, I sprayed myself with the Bulgari scent he’d gotten me for Christmas. Crystalline was delicate, floral, and woodsy, but the spray container was intricately shaped. Half the time I splurted the perfume in my face. I’d learned to study the bottle carefully before spraying.
“You’ll be pleased to know that Brawny stood up for you. In fact, she phoned me and suggested I get here right away. She was having problems getting my mother to calm down. Hadcho gave me a ride. I’ve never seen him so put out with my mother. He’s definitely Team Kiki.”
“That’s too bad. About your mother.” I didn’t mean a word of it. After the visit to the doctor, I’d decided to put my problems with Thelma Detweiler on hold, indefinitely. Sure, I knew she’d come to the ceremony today, and probably join us afterward at Cara Mia’s, but I’d intended to put as much physical distance as possible between Thelma and myself.
She’d been right, in that I wasn’t as motherly toward Ty as I should be. But she’d been wrong in hurling accusations. If she had broached the subject with me, treated me with respect, maybe I would have stuck up for myself and been more forceful when I talked to Dr. Gretski. She could have been my ally rather than my enemy. I had needed her, and she’d failed me.
No, it was more than failing me. Thelma had turned on me, the way a trusted dog does when it abandons its loyalty and bites its owner in the face.
That shamed me and my cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Thelma wasn’t a dog. The analogy might be apt, but I’d gone too far, even if it was nothing more than a thought that occurred to me.
“After that happened, Hadcho and I went back to work,” Detweiler continued. “If you recall, that’s the day we visited Dr. Gretski. Good old Hadcho dropped me off. I owe that dude meals for a year to thank him for his service as a cabbie. Yesterday, Dad and I met for breakfast. You won’t have any problems with my mother today. I wanted you to know that because I didn’t want you worrying through the ceremony. They will be coming, but Dad’s promised she won’t be upsetting you. Just so you know.”
With that, I turned to face him. My husband opened his arms and gathered me up. After kissing the tender spot on my throat right below my ear, he said, “I’ve got your back. Now and forever.”
I responded in a husky tone that came from a place I thought had gone out of business, “And I’ve got yours.”
CHAPTER 7
Father Joe and Rabbi Sarah performed the most amazing ceremony ever. Sure, it had been a challenge for her, because Jews don’t believe in original sin and that’s the basis for baptism. But Joe went easy on the sin and heavy on the Welcome to this wonderful world and people who love you. And so the two clerics, both wearing somber black robes, represented both the old and new faiths we were combining.
Poor Anya missed Sheila terribly, especially at times like this. Visiting the church reminded my daughte
r that she was the last Lowenstein standing, thanks to Sheila’s marriage to Robbie Holmes. Detweiler seemed totally absorbed in the miracle of our son—but bless his heart, he still noticed Anya’s hunched shoulders and watched as she covered her mouth rather than let a sob escape. With a quick and graceful movement, he passed Ty to Laurel. Then he beckoned to my daughter and she hurried to find a place under his sheltering arm. I didn’t leave my spot from beside Rabbi Sarah, as moving would have put me too close to Thelma. She’d done an admirable job of avoiding my eyes, and I’d extended the courtesy back to her in equal measure.
Cara and Hadcho had bookended Detweiler and me, fulfilling a silent pact that I was to be protected. Laurel stood between her fiancé Joe and Detweiler, her lovely features rendered even more other-worldly than usual because she adores all children, and mine in particular. She and Joe seemed usually dialed in to each other. I could only assume they were anticipating their upcoming marriage and the start of their own family.
My sisters held onto my mother, the way a nervous dog owner clutches the choke chain, keeping her away from anything she could pee on, bite into, or otherwise destroy.
Leighton held Lorraine’s left hand and Brawny managed to hold her old employer’s elbow, while Erik burrowed close to his aunt by wrapping his arms around her waist. This whole business of making room in his world for a baby brought out the good and the bad aspects of being a five year old. Saturday afternoon when Ty threw a wonky (as described by Brawny), Erik suggested we send Ty back and get a new baby that didn’t fuss so much. “Or a guinea pig. Like Giggles. He don’t make lots of noise. Just squeaks.” Horace Goldfader wiped his eyes as he rested one hand on his daughter’s shoulder. At times like this, we all missed Dodie Goldfader, but we also recognized what a blessing she had been, because it had been Dodie, through her love of scrapbooking, who’d brought us all together. Margit and Clancy stood next to Detweiler’s sisters and brothers-in-law. Emily, his niece, stood quietly to one side and waited for Anya, a thoughtful gesture from a thirteen-year-old.
Colored sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows and dimly lit the nave of the church. As a girl, I’d been told that a church was designed to look like a ship turned upside down. Certainly, from my vantage point, I could stare up at the ribs and imagine us floating on a sea of tears. Sorrow for George Lowenstein, who’d done so much wrong in his life but also so much right, and who’d fathered my fabulous daughter. Sadness for Sheila who’d initially seemed as tough as a fieldstone wall, but who’d turned out to be a crumbling surface worn down by regrets. Bitter tears for Brenda, Detweiler’s second wife, a drug addict, mingled with real regret for Gina, his first wife and Erik’s mother, whose love affair with a black policeman brought our adorable five-year-old boy into this world. The soaring lines of the roof. What was a life but a complex orchestration of loss and adaptation with a few crystalline moments of pure joy sprinkled in?
And what was a family except a tribe committed to sharing those times together?
CHAPTER 8
“You’ve got everything? Photos? Chargers? Cords?” I asked as I opened the driver’s side door of my car. I managed to avoid a chunk of melting ice as it fell off the gutter of the garage and landed at my feet. The Monday of Cara’s departure had rolled around far too quickly. I couldn’t believe she was heading back down to Florida today.
“Sure do.” Cara nodded as she climbed into the passenger side seat of my BMW. A drip of wet snow splattered her shoulder before she closed the door. “Finally, you’re getting a break in the weather. Might even warm up enough to melt off the snow later in the week.”
“I sure hope so. I’m sick of this. It’s pretty at first, but the sand and exhaust turns it gray and yucky. I’m also tired of being cold, even though I’m not as cold as I was before I got pregnant. That’s hormones for you.” Watching the view behind me, I backed out slowly. “We’re going to be early.”
“It was nice of Detweiler to take my rental car back for me. That meant we could spend more time together before my plane takes off.”
“How about if we get your bag checked and then grab a coffee from Starbucks in the terminal. It isn’t Kaldi’s, but it’ll do, right?”
“Absolutely.”
I’d forgotten the sound of tires on dry pavement. In the convertible, it’s louder than in a hard-top. “Remember how there are all those yellow daffodils planted along Highway 40? To me that’s always the best sign of spring.”
“You’ll have to send me pictures of it,” Cara said. “Speaking of spring, plan to come down for Easter or Spring Break, okay? You’ll be able to get a good dose of sunshine. Anya and Erik will love the beach outside my house. You and Detweiler and Ty can have my room. Brawny can sleep upstairs. I have a pull out bed in my office. The kids can have the guest room and I’ll sleep on the sofa in my living room. We’ll have a blast.”
“We’ll figure something out.” I couldn’t help but smile. The ocean right outside your door? How cool was that? And the thought of collecting shells? Doing projects with Cara and her pal, Skye Blue? My mouth watered at the thought. “Lee Alderton made me promise we’d come visit her and Jeff, too. We might bring Emily Volker along too. Give the cousins a bit of a chance to build memories. If we do that, you’ll have a house full.”
I pulled onto 40, speeding up to match the rest of the traffic. From there to Lambert, Cara and I discussed the different places we could see when we visited. Her list was extensive, forcing me to realize that Orlando might get the bulk lot of publicity, but there’s a Florida beyond the rides, movie tie-ins, and touristy traps. Our discussion kept us busy until after I parked the car. Cara had packed lightly, but I’d loaded her up with scrapbook supplies to take home. Paper is heavy. It tends to get tattered edges if you don’t ship it properly. I’d rolled sheets tightly and stuffed them into empty paper towel tubes to protect them. A few papers with tiny patterns on them would be perfect for Honora, the miniaturist who worked out of Cara’s store, to use in tiny projects.
“How do you come up with all those ideas for recycling and reusing what you find?” I asked, as we passed a sign for a furniture store on our way to the airport. “I like to think I’m creative, but what you all do is amazing.”
Cara gave a hoot of a laugh and tugged on her purple scarf. Her bright knit cap set off the reddish highlights in her dark hair. “Remember how I didn’t think I was creative or crafty? You might say I was a closeted crafter. Seriously, though, I’ve learned so much from Skye. She always studies an object and asks, ‘What if?’ While she does, she’ll turn the piece upside down or on its side.
“That works?”
“Sure does.”
“I can’t imagine it working for me.” I wagged my head back and forth. “No way.”
We were both quiet as I took the airport exit. “No long term parking for me!”
“No way!” Cara agreed, as we found a space and unloaded her gear.
“You need silence to be creative,” she said as we walked toward the terminal entrance. “The quiet seems to incubate ideas. I get my best “A-ha!” moments when I’m all alone walking the beach. Or in the shower. Did you know that Agatha Christie said the best time to plot a book was while you’re washing dishes? Water helps. If there’s too much noise, you can’t hear the creative ideas bubble up. They’re like soap bubbles, floating just out of reach, and you have to grab them fast before they sail away.”
“There isn’t much silence in my life,” but even as I said that, I knew I wasn’t complaining. I was simply stating a fact. “I’ll really have to plan to find it.”
“Yes, you will. Especially with three kids in the house. It was a beautiful christening. Absolutely perfect. I’m so glad you invited me to be Ty’s godmother. Did you get things straightened out with Thelma? I know I’m being nosy, but I had to ask.” Cara stepped onto the moving sidewalk with her rolling bag behind her. She was careful to move so I could take my place behind her and not block other patrons. They could
pass us on the left if they wanted to.
I sighed. “Louis took her by the arm and escorted her to a seat at the far end of the table. We didn’t talk. That was fine by me.”
“And your mother? How’d she do?” Cara asked after we’d ordered our coffees and settled into a booth so we wouldn’t spill them. She’d decided to leave her boots with me. I’d bring them to her when we came down to Florida. Instead, she wore the cutest Keds designed by Taylor Swift. The black and gray leopard pattern played off her oversized gray sweater and black yoga pants. In Florida, she’d told me that she mainly wore Lily Pulitzer florals, but for up here, she’d dug out her dark colors again.
“She flirted with Leighton the whole meal.” I laughed, thinking back on how embarrassed her behavior had made Anya. “No matter how many times she’s been told that Leighton and Lorraine live together, Mom doesn’t get it. My sisters and I are going to visit various assisted living facilities next week. Mom can’t be left alone any more. Last week, Amanda was cleaning in Mom’s room. She decided to vacuum behind the bed. When she pulled it away from the wall, she heard this ca-chink, ca-chink noise rattling in the hose. Turns out, Mom’s been dumping her medications behind her headboard. When Amanda emptied the canister of the vacuum cleaner, she poured out an entire cup full of pills!”
CHAPTER 9
I choked up as I waved goodbye to my friend, and Cara disappeared through the airport security check point. The coffee had gone through me, so a quick pit stop was in order. Coming out of a stall, I bumped into Amy and we exchanged hugs. “I can’t wait to see your baby,” she said. “I’d like to see Deena’s too. Maybe when the weather’s better, right? I’m so glad mine isn’t coming until early May. This cold is wicked, right? Only an idiot would take a baby out in the cold when it’s like this.”
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