Here, Home, Hope

by Kaira Rouda

  I was a nervous wreck. I needed a Reese’s big time. I rummaged in my secret drawer in the kitchen and found my tiny packet of solace. I popped first one then the other treat in my mouth and savored the feeling.

  The house phone rang. I glanced at the clock; could be a salesperson. I turned on my gruff voice.

  “What’s wrong with your voice, Aunt Kelly?” Melanie asked.

  “Hi sweetie! Nothing, just a frog in my throat. How are you?”

  “I’m doing better, and I want to apologize for scaring you. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that. And, uh, I like doing yoga with you. I like being with you.”

  “Mel, you made my day. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. You did scare me, but everything is all fixed up and waiting for you to come back. I’ll be by during visiting hours to see you, so just keep feeling better.”

  “I will. Oh, Beth wants to talk to you.”

  “Hey miracle worker, how are you holding up?” I asked Beth.

  “I’m walking out of the room, hold on . . . Okay, well, it went better than expected, actually. Bruce came and he was calm and he listened. We did a couple of hours of counseling, so he could better understand why Mel is taking out all of her emotional pain on her body. He wants to try bringing her home with him,” Beth said.

  “Absolutely not! Kathryn is the primary caretaker.”

  “But Kelly, she hasn’t even showed up yet. And, really, if she’s working on herself and her personal issues, she’s not the best choice. Mel needs a stable parent focused on her right now,” Beth said.

  “Bruce travels 24/7. He isn’t stable. He’s leaving his wife for his mistress, for heaven’s sake!”

  “He is listed as the emergency contact on her insurance card and the coverage is through him. He is her father, and he wants to take her home. There is no one who can stop that, including me,” Beth said. “Especially since Mel wants to go home with him.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what she thinks right now.”

  “I’m coming over there. It’s almost three. You’ll let me see her, right?”

  “Of course.”

  I called Charlotte on the way over to the hospital. I had to multitask; I was up against the clock. Besides, if Melanie was deciding to live with Bruce, she’d be living with Charlotte, too.

  “Hi Kelly. I wasn’t sure we were talking,” Charlotte said, cautiously.

  “Well, we are, sort of. Look, I’m driving over to the hospital to see Melanie, and since it seems you’re about to be her stepmother, I figure you are up to speed on everything. You are, right?”

  “I haven’t heard from Bruce all day.” The sadness in her voice filled the phone.

  “Here’s the scoop. She’s doing great and they made up, Bruce and Mel. Seems she may even be considering living with him—I mean, you guys. So, that’s good.”

  “Living with us? I’m not sure she’d be a good influence on the girls, the way she is right now,” Charlotte said. “I mean, I don’t want to sound callous, but I’m just not sure I can handle that. And what about her mom?”

  Yeah, well, you should’ve thought about that before you became soul mates, I was about to say, but caught myself. “Well, now you know all I know, so at least you won’t be caught offguard. Take it easy on this one. Bruce feels responsible for the suicide attempt, and he’s going to do everything he can to make it up to Mel; at least that’s what Beth says.”

  “Can’t you call Kathryn? Get her back here?” She sounded desperate, as if she’d just now realized she’d be inheriting a troubled teen as well as a soul mate.

  “Great idea, Kathryn to the rescue,” I answered, wondering if she could hear the sarcasm in my voice. “I’ve called her numerous times. I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can. But you can’t really expect Kathryn or me to help you and Bruce out, can you? What’s that saying, you make your bed, you have to lie in it, or something?”

  “Nice. Sorry to cut this short, Kelly, but I have a listing appointment, so I’ve gotta go.”

  “Wait. One more thing. I’m going on television tonight. What do I wear?”

  “Why?”

  “For my new business,” I said, gloating. “Sherry White is having me on as a guest at 5:30. So please, any help?”

  “Wear the light blue silk top that makes your eyes pop. Simple jewelry. Flatten your hair and use hairspray. The studio lights highlight fly aways. HD makes overdone, caked-on makeup look even faker, so use your mineral makeup. Powder your eyelids so they don’t shine, and wear neutral lip gloss. You want your eyes to take center stage,” she said in a rush. “I really have to go. Bye.”

  I’d gotten the television tips I needed and had tipped off Charlotte to boot. Maybe she’d intervene in time for me to get Mel back to my house. It certainly sounded as if she didn’t want Mel in her new love nest. As I disconnected the phone, Doug and I turned into the hospital.

  Gavin sat on one side of her bed, and Bruce was on the other. Melanie was smiling.

  “Hi Aunt Kelly!” she said as both guys looked at me. “Those daisies are wonderful. From your garden, right?”

  “Hi sweetie! Yep, I picked them just for you. It looks like you’re in good hands here,” I said, placing the flowers on the windowsill and kissing her forehead. “Bruce, could I talk to you for just a couple minutes?”

  He smiled at Melanie and then followed me out into the hall.

  “Have you talked to Kathryn about any of this?” I asked.

  “Some of it. We agreed that I would move out of the house when Mel came to live with you. We just hadn’t told Mel yet. Kathryn told her I was on a business trip. And then, the next thing I know, she heads to Montana,” he said. “I didn’t want to go against Kathryn’s wishes. She wanted us to tell our daughter together, but since she’s gone and Charlotte is your friend and our new house is across the street, it seemed like I needed to fill Mel in.

  “I know I didn’t handle it well, bursting into your home and telling my emotionally fragile daughter that I was in love with someone other than her mom, and that I was moving in with her and her twin daughters,” he added, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, that was a little harsh,” I agreed. Selfish shithead. “I don’t think it is right for you to take Mel to your love nest before Kathryn returns. I think Mel should stay on neutral ground, with Patrick and me, until all three of you sit down together and work this out.”

  “I appreciate your thoughts, Kelly, but Mel’s my daughter, and I’ve got it under control,” he said. “I need to get back in there. Gotta watch those lovebirds.”

  “Gavin is a great boy. He was there when you weren’t, Bruce. I hope you know that,” I said. But I was talking to his back because he was already heading into Mel’s room.

  I followed him in.

  While Bruce was getting an update from the cute doctor who’d walked in the door, I whispered to Mel: “Say, do you have your mom’s assistant’s cell number? I just wanted to give her a quick call.”

  “It’s programmed in my cell. That’s still in my room at your house. Her name is Donna, and she’s the only Donna in there. Is my mom okay?”

  “I’m sure she is, but I need to reach her. I can’t remember the name of the ranch where she’s staying, do you?”

  “I know it’s near Kalispell and Glacier,” Melanie answered.

  “Well, we’ll track her down. I know she’ll be here as soon as she hears what happened.”

  “No, please, Aunt Kelly! Mom deserves a break. She’s had to put up with me and him—especially him,” she said, looking at her dad, and squeezed my hand. “Just let her have peace. I’ll be okay at his house. And Beth and I are going to spend a lot of time working to get me healthy. And you’re right up the street. And Gavin is here, too.” They beamed at each other.

  “Yes he is, and so are Patrick and I if you need anything,” I said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. I walked past Bruce and the doctor without saying another word.

  As I strolled do
wn the white hallway of the hospital, it struck me again: I’m going on television tonight.

  CHARLOTTE WAS SO RIGHT. THE BLUE BLOUSE WORKED! I decided to wear my Dogeared Karma necklace. I hoped it would help me feel positive and peaceful. I tried on my largest pair of black dress pants, and they were too big. I moved down to the next section of the closet and danced a little jig as the smaller pair slid on and buttoned easily. Wow. As I flat-ironed my hair, I accidentally touched the top of my right ear. Burn pain on the tippy top of your ear is uniquely indescribable, especially when self-imposed. I was completely out of my element when it came to the high-maintenance, every-hair-in-place, getting ready mode. I’d been out of practice for fifteen years. In fact, I’m not sure I ever had it down.

  An hour of primping later, I headed for the door. Oreo gave me the look, but I shook my head and reached for a treat, promising to take him on a drive on Sunday. After all, that’s what Sundays are for, I told him. I wrote a note to Patrick, who had informed me that after finishing their new business pitch the guys had decided to play a round of golf. It was okay, because if I’d told him I was going to be on TV, he would’ve watched and then I would’ve been even more nervous than I already was.

  I followed all the back door and buzzer directions and found myself microphoned and alone in the “green room,” which was actually a conference room with a TV, so I could see what Sherry was reporting on for the news of the day.

  A burst water main at the airport was the lead story. It wasn’t really at the airport, however; it was near the rental cars, although the reporter on the scene’s urgency made it sound as if a flood would be coming our way soon. Next up, layoffs at the mayor’s office. Then, Sherry told us, “Stay tuned. There’s been a tragedy in the suburb of Grandville. We’ll be back with details after this break.”

  I hoped she wasn’t talking about me.

  “Hi Kelly! Great to see you!” Sherry said, breezing into the green room and giving me a hug. “You look great. Nervous?”

  “Extremely,” I admitted.

  “I could tell. You aren’t breathing. Breathe. You’ll do fine. I’ll see you in just a few minutes; I’ve gotta go. Breathe,” she said again, and dashed for the door.

  “Hey, wait, am I the tragedy in the suburbs?” I asked.

  “Ha, ha, ha, you are so funny!” she laughed.

  That wasn’t really an answer.

  “Welcome back. Tragic news from Grandville today as police were called to the scene of a motorcycle accident. Apparently, the crash happened last night but the accident scene wasn’t discovered until this afternoon, when a jogger happened to notice the wreckage at the bottom of a shallow ditch. The name of the male victim who was pronounced dead at the scene has not been released, pending notification of the family. We’ll bring you more as information becomes available.”

  What? I wondered, as the producer tapped me on the shoulder and said I was on. “After that story?” I asked.

  “No, after the break,” she said. “Follow me, but don’t say a word. We’re going into the studio and we’re live.”

  My heart was beating so hard in my chest that it was hard to breathe. Sherry’s advice just wasn’t cutting it. I needed water. And a towel. I was perspiring so much I was sure I would soak my blue shirt. I felt like I was drowning. I’d read that water is a thousand times heavier than air. Was it possible to drown in your own sweat? I’d worked so hard to look good, and now I was blowing—actually drenching—it.

  Get hold of yourself I told myself, and smacked the top of each thigh. That was grounding, feeling the jiggle. I touched my necklace, reminding myself to keep positive. We entered the studio from the side. Sherry was behind the news desk, speaking into the huge camera lens as if she were speaking to a person. Amazing.

  “And we’re out,” said the producer next to me, as she pushed me forward and onto the set. We were moving over to the couch, where I would be seated next to Sherry. That would be fine, except for the cameras. Someone came from somewhere and powdered Sherry’s face, and then, seeing me, did mine too.

  Sherry patted me on the hand, told me to look at her and not the camera, and then we were on.

  I don’t remember a thing we talked about. I remember talking, and smiling, and swallowing a few times, and nodding, fascinated, and then looking concerned when she read off the dismal housing market stats. And suddenly, we were finished.

  “Great job, Kelly!” she said. “Let’s do lunch sometime, Okay? Let me know of any other ladies our age starting new businesses. That’s where I want to put my emphasis: helping other women over forty. We need it.”

  “I do know of one. My friend Beth is starting her own treatment center for anorexic teen girls. She’s fabulous and has already made a huge difference in the life of a teen I know,” I said, politely ignoring her over-forty comment since I was only thirty-nine.

  “Great! Have her call me,” Sherry said, walking back toward the set. The producer ushered me out as Sherry retook her position behind the anchor desk.

  My phone was ringing as I headed through the door out into the warm summer air. I was high with accomplishment, invigorated by my marketing savvy, amazed that I had pulled it all off today.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “And you didn’t think it would be important to tell me you’d be on television today?” Patrick said.

  “Well, it just sort of came together and you were golfing and, well, if I told you, you would’ve watched and that would’ve made me nervous. Wait. How did you know?”

  “You looked beautiful. You talked fast, but you only want to work with fast-talking, intelligent folks, right? That was really gutsy, especially since you just opened for business, um, two days ago.”

  “Three. And no time like the present. Where are you?”

  “I’m at home, fielding phone calls from all of your friends and some from home sellers who want their homes staged. You’re going to be busy, Kelly.”

  “I hope so! Sherry said they’d link our story about home staging to my website where I have that contact form, and that could lead to a lot of business too. They have a lot of traffic. I’m just leaving the studio, so I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Doug and I pulled out of the parking lot and began the trek home. I was so excited I decided to sneak a call in to Sean on the way home.

  “Hi Mom!” he said. “I’m over picking blueberries so they can’t see me talking!”

  “That’s great. Hey, guess what? I was just on TV.”

  “Really? Cool. Are you going to be famous?”

  “I hope so. I started my own business. It’s for people moving and selling their houses. I’m really excited. So how are the berries?”

  “Really good and sweet. I could just sit here and eat them all day.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just a little homesick, I guess,” he said. “But it’ll be better tonight. It’s movie night.”

  I knew the rules. Don’t feed the homesickness by saying come on home. “I miss you so much, too. But we’ll be there to get you soon. And then, as usual, you’ll be sad to leave.”

  “You’re right, Mom. Hey, good job on the TV show. I learned how to do a loon call, wanna hear?

  “Sure.” I laughed as the sound of a loon filled my car.

  “I’ve gotta go,” he said.

  “Great loon! Love you.”

  “You too.”

  PATRICK HAD A BOTTLE OF SPARKLING WINE IN AN ICE BUCKET on the countertop, and he popped the cork as I walked into the kitchen. “To my wife, the staging star of Grandville,” he said, and then poured us each a glass. “Cheers!”

  I love sparkling wine: the way it’s saved for special occasions; the way the bubbles feel as you drink it and how they look in the glass. I especially love to call it Champagne even if it is domestic, just to honk off the French in my own little way. Sure, they have culture and wine and cheese and Paris. But here in the USA we deserve to call our sparkling wine something more
than sparkling wine, I thought. So I did.

  “You’re so wonderful, Patrick. Thank you,” I said as we clinked glasses. I smiled over at T2C #20. And then, of course, the telephone rang.

  “This is how it’s been ever since the segment aired,” Patrick said. “We’re going to need to set up a business line for you here at the house. You don’t want it all mixed together—and I know I don’t. We can let voice mail pick this one up.”

  “How many calls have been from potential clients?”

  “Three, at least,” Patrick said. “I wrote them all down for you and told them you’d call tomorrow. I’m assuming, like real estate agents, home stagers don’t take the weekend off?”

  “Yeah, bummer about that, I know,” I said, smiling. “But it will all be worth it when I make enough for that beach house.”

  “Yes, I could retire, become your assistant, or better yet, just play golf.”

  “Oh no you won’t. Cheers!” I planted a big kiss on his cheek and he gave me the look. It did seem as if our house would be teenager-free and that there wouldn’t be any big meetings in my living room tonight. Maybe a little romance was the perfect way to end a business-launch day.

  I pulled Patrick by the hand and we made our way slowly up the stairs and then into our room. The sun was still up, but the red glow of sunset was just beginning. We made love slowly, but still enough to qualify as a workout in anybody’s book. I even took the top for a change, a position I’d been too self-conscious to take in years. I was turning into a cougar, or was it a tiger? Anyway, it was great.

  Afterward, as we cuddled, Patrick complimented me on losing weight. I told him that having an anorexic around had prompted me to think about eating healthier through watching portion sizes and writing things down. I had started doing it with Mel, and I had made a commitment to myself to keep it up. Beth said she’d help me by just giving me copies of the weekly meals she and a nutritionist had planned for Mel. I was exercising, too: walking at least thirty minutes a day, and I had been a regular at yoga with Melanie.