by Hope Lyda
No more explanation is necessary for my mom. She nods and smiles.
Dad waves and says, “You won’t recognize the place. Take the route past the school too. The playground has been renovated; you’ll love it.” He knows right where I am headed.
Josiah makes a gagging sound. “School. Yuck.”
I cannot help but smile at strangers on my way down the street. The mixture of colorful houses, large brick apartment buildings, and small businesses seems a testament to the efforts my parents have made to bring revitalization efforts to this community. There were years when I was not allowed to walk or ride my bike home from school without an adult, though the two-story brick schoolhouse was only a few blocks away.
When I see young professionals sipping coffee at bistro tables outside the café I have to double-check the sign above. Only inside do I see the faces of the old neighborhood seated at regular booths and torn, red vinyl stools at the bar.
Since the place seems busiest outside, I decide to occupy an indoor booth. Most comfortable as an observer, I choose the corner table and sit facing the street. Nobody seems to notice the girl seated alone, not even the waitress. Instead of flagging her down, I reach for a pen from my purse and several napkins from the metal canister on the table.
I get lost in my rambling thoughts as they come from somewhere in my mind and onto the folded sheets that absorb ink quickly and make my letters large and nearly indistinguishable from one another. It won’t matter. Some life notes are meant for later reflection, but some, like this morning’s, are simply intended to purge the backup files of the subconscious.
“Darlin,’ you back in town?”
Pulled from my self-absorbed thoughts, I squint up at the waitress. Morning sun is her backlighting, and all I see is an eclipse of bouffant hair.
“Margie…Hemphill. I used to babysit at the home.”
The home. It gives me chills and a few flashback emotions, but Margie was a great volunteer. She used to give the younger kids piggyback rides up and down the stairs and let them use the walk-in freezer when we played hide-and-seek. Mom and Dad’s liability insurance agent probably made sure she never returned.
“I cannot believe you recognize me. I am back.” I intend to add for a short time, but my mouth stops moving as my eyes start tracking a girl who just entered the café. She has on a green suede dress with five link belts coiling around her waist. It is a look that could only be rivaled by…
“Caitlin?” It couldn’t be.
Marge looks over her shoulder and then back at me with a look of “what’ll they think of next.” “I will let your friend have a few minutes to look at the menu.”
I follow Marge to the front counter and keep my eyes on the girl who is looking through the window at the yuppie crowd. “Caitlin?” I ask the question again, but still in disbelief.
The woman, who is indeed Caitlin, turns around and runs over to hug me. I take her by the hand to my booth and we stare at each other for a few minutes and then she laughs as I speak half-phrases like “What are…When did…Why on…?”
“I’m on my way to New York, and at the airport it occurred to me that I was stopping at Dulles. So I asked the woman at the ticket counter—”
“Clarissa?”
“Yes! And she said she remembered my headdress from that time I picked you up. Isn’t that amazing?”
“It was rather unforgettable.”
“So when I explained how much I would love to have a full day here to visit you, she changed my departure time from Dulles to JFK so I could have a few hours. Isn’t she the sweetest?”
“Let’s just say this is a new side of her.” I cannot stop smiling. “Caitlin, I really needed to see you.”
“I felt it.” She places her hand on her heart. “And I really needed to see you. Your dad looks good. He is the one who showed me how to get here.”
“He recently had a setback, but he was pushing himself too hard. The doctor says he is doing well in his recovery.”
“I’m glad.” She beams, and then she adds with a grin, “I had hoped to see someone else while at the house.” She raises her brows a couple of times for emphasis.
“You might get that twitch looked at before becoming a New York City girl.” I say while folding up my napkin notes and shoving them into my backpack.
“I wanted to see Marcus,” she says as if I didn’t get it. “Angelica told me that you two were once involved. I never heard of him until this trip of yours. Now, every time we talk on the phone you mention the guy. Don’t act coy.”
“Involved with sounds like a soap opera romance. What we had was a hand-holding, high school dreamworld crush. That is it.”
I notice Marge approaching, so we scan the menu and make the fastest and strangest co-order ever. “Waffles,” we say in unison.
“We are in sync. We never ordered the same breakfast food before.” I motion out the window. “You gotta have waffles in the fall.”
“Gotta.” Caitlin’s eyes follow my quick gaze to her left hand. “No. There is not a ring on my finger. You are not very discreet.”
“Just checking.”
“You are trying to change the subject. But I will let you because we have so little time together.”
“Thank you.” I bow my head to her in appreciation. “So why do you need to fly to New York again?”
“This trip will be my final. That is, before I make my move. I told Isabel that I could start after Sadie’s wedding. I figure this gives me time to—you know, say goodbye to everyone.”
“You really are doing this?” I sprinkle salt on my palm and lick it.
Caitlin looks disgusted but continues. “I really am. It’s true that I might look back on this decision in three years and regret what I am leaving behind…”
“Namely Jim the Cop?”
“Yes. But training with Isabel is the education I have been wanting. Let’s face it, how long have I been researching opening my own store?”
“We have been researching it forever.”
“Exactly. And all this time I have been avoiding the truth about me—I am not ready to go solo. I don’t want that kind of responsibility. But I do feel ready to learn from someone else. I figure last year’s fashion show was your way to get back to Golden Horizons, it was Sadie’s venue for engagement, and it apparently was my connection to my future as well.”
My head leans to the side as I take in my friend’s newfound confidence. “This is a great choice, Caitlin. I see that now.”
“Sadie thinks I am running away from Jim and a possible commitment.”
I wave my hand in the air to brush away opinions of those not present. “Doesn’t matter. Look at me. People think I am crazy to leave…to be away from Beau.”
Caitlin looks down at the waffles loaded with berries and whipped cream. “Like me. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I get it. Maybe I am pushing the boundaries of a relatively vulnerable relationship.”
Caitlin stops a forkful of breakfast midway to her mouth, “What do you mean, vulnerable?”
I wave my own opinion away and take a huge bite of fruit.
“What do you mean vulnerable?”
I keep chewing, stalling while I figure out what is going on. “We are fragile right now.”
Caitlin looks down at her fork and places it back on her plate. Her face falls into blankness. “I cannot believe anything except that you two will end up together forever.”
As much as I don’t want to let down my romantic friend, I am desperate to talk about this. “Beau and I had a good conversation during my last visit home—I just sense we could lose each other.” I am surprised by the lump in my throat. The doubts I have kept tucked in my mind have escaped their confinement and sound more like fact than theory once out.
“Mari, Beau adores you. He talks about you all the time to anyone who will listen. That night at Golden Horizons he held you so close. Nothing will undermine that.”
Caitlin is being Pollyanna for me
. And maybe for herself as well. We want to believe that true love conquers all.
“The distance feels overwhelming.”
She reaches for my hand. “A few states between you is not enough to come between you.” Her forehead wrinkles as she figures out what she just said. When she determines that it was indeed what she meant to convey, she nods emphatically.
I don’t have the heart to tell her I was speaking of emotional distance, so I shorten the distance between me and a huge bite of waffles and whipped cream.
Tourist for a Day
Do we have to tell them where we are going?” Caitlin asks as we descend the escalator to the Metro.
“We give the machine our money and then we can go where we want to.”
As we make our way to the landing, I skim the sign to determine which side to stand on. “We’ll take this to the Metro Station and then switch lines to get to the Mall.”
Caitlin scrunches her nose up.
“The area from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial is referred to as the Mall.”
She is relieved. “I brought a disposable camera so I could get a shot of the White House and the Washington Monument.”
“Are you going to be okay in those shoes? It’s a lot of walking after we get off the Metro.” I stare at Caitlin’s plum suede heels.
“These things? Piece of cake. Besides, I paid a small fortune for them from Isabel’s collection. Figured I’d show her my great taste. I want to arrive wearing them tonight.”
“If you’re sure, we’ll walk by a few of the museums, and then we have to see the Lincoln Memorial. There’s a hot dog stand nearby. We can grab lunch on the way and have a picnic by one of our forefathers.”
“Who are the other three?”
The train arrives with a gust of air. “Three? This is our ride, so get ready to enter when the doors open.”
“Lincoln is one. Who are the other three?”
I shake my head in amazement and point to an open orange seat. I have the feeling that seeing the city through Caitlin’s eyes and mind will make for a most interesting day, not the kind you read about in travel books.
“I strained my neck looking up at that thing,” Caitlin says, pointing to the Washington Monument.
“Do you want to go up? They have elevator rides to the top.”
Caitlin gulps and pretends to look at her watch. “Gosh, I would, but I don’t want to miss the other sights.”
“I hear ya. Let’s keep walking, and in just a minute you will see my favorite stretch in all of this area.”
We follow a walkway to the crest of the hill and soon we are viewing the reflecting pool that leads dramatically up to the statue of Lincoln, seated and grand. A line of grade school kids marches in front of us. They each hold a sack lunch and the hand of their field trip buddy.
“It’s so pretty. I never would have imagined this many trees and green lawns. You were lucky to grow up around here, Mari. It’s breathtaking.”
“This city is fantastic.” I breathe in the air and take in the splendid view. “I’ve avoided coming down here until today.”
She glances over at me, “It’s been good for you to be home. I can see it on your face. You seem happier and more together—peaceful, I guess.”
“I do?” I hate to tell her how lost I feel.
“Yes, but we need you back in Tucson.”
“Tell me everything that is going on. My conversations with Sadie are always rushed; she seems stressed for obvious reasons. And Angelica is getting harder and harder to read. One time she seems more stable, and the next she is sounding overburdened and a bit cuckoo. What’s up with that?”
“I’ll start with Angelica because I have a bit of gossip.”
I rub my hands together in anticipation.
“The three of us got together for breakfast, which was a drag without you, I must say—and Angelica said that she is seriously considering dating again.”
“Peyton, I hope.”
“She wouldn’t say. Sadie asked directly and reminded Angelica that Peyton was invited to the wedding because he and Carson have become friends over the past year. In fact, those two and Beau were meeting for weekly golf games.”
“Beau never mentioned that.”
“Well, I hope you don’t take this wrong or anything, but I guess Beau has been kind of flaky. He cancels a lot and lately hasn’t even called. He just doesn’t show.”
“Beau is super busy these days. That grant project he and—his mentor—are working on is really big for him and for Golden Horizons. He will do so much good for the residents. And there is extra pressure because if he does a good job with this project, he has a chance at getting on with the state board. So the flakiness isn’t his nature; it’s just that…”
Caitlin holds up her hand. “You are overselling.”
I pause for a moment. She is right. “Welcome to the dialogue of justification that frequently runs through my mind.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone still holds him in high esteem.”
“What’d Angelica say about Peyton being invited to the wedding?” I steer us back on track while half of my mind stays stuck on Beau’s behavior.
“She actually smiled. That is when we knew we were on to something. But you are totally right; she is a bit unpredictable. However, since she started going to a counselor at her church, she has fewer crazy days.”
“Glad to hear it.”
The kids start running up the stairs to the Lincoln Memorial and so we do the same. Even the wildest of the field trip clan seem to be calm and reverent in the space surrounding the statue. Silence covers us all, and we just take a few minutes to soak up the grandeur.
“Was he the fifteenth president?”
“Sixteenth. Between James Buchanan and Andrew Johnson.”
“So you’re the student who actually retained that information.”
“No retention. Several of the kids are learning the presidents this year, so I told them that if they learn the list before I do, I will do their chores for a week.”
“They must love you.”
I look at the kids, who are now quietly reading aloud the inscriptions on the wall of the memorial. One of them reminds me of Wallace, all serious and earnest. “They are growing on me, that’s for sure.”
After some photo ops, we head to a food shack and load up with hot dogs, chips, sodas, and plenty of mustard packets.
“Does life get any better?” Caitlin bites into her relish-covered dog and closes her eyes in rapture.
“I’m telling you—after walking all morning, this is the most satisfying meal imaginable.” I wipe a bit of mustard off my chin and get comfy on the backless cement bench. “Sadie update now.”
Caitlin takes a swig of soda. “Yeah, right. Okay, Sadie is gearing up for Harry’s visit. They got the whole living situation figured out. Harry will stay with Carson and Harry’s mom will stay at Majestic Vista.”
“Perfect. She’ll feel pampered and not excluded, and Sadie will be a lot more comfortable than she would have been had they all been with Carson.”
“No kidding. So that is working out. But Sadie’s sister and mom are making her bananas. They are coming in early also. When they heard about the Majestic Vista arrangement Carson had made for Harry’s mom, they jumped on that bandwagon.”
“They’re good people, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but they get under her skin. And we all know Sadie’s sister is a bit strange.”
“We do?”
“Hello? The dresses?”
I throw up my hands and smatter ketchup on my sweater. “How could I forget the dresses?”
“I remember them every day. I seriously have to cover mine up at night so I can sleep.” Caitlin burps and wads up her hot dog wrapper. We both have finished in record time.
“I think we should set her sister up for a psychiatric evaluation.”
“My guess—jealousy. She is not married and is a bit older than Sadie.”
“Well,
at the bachelorette dinner we can keep an eye on her.”
Caitlin slaps her forehead. “I knew I forgot to tell you something. That elegant dinner at the Chateau d’Or is now a Western-themed outing. Complete with horse rides and chicken potpie.”
“Chicken potpie?”
“Or whatever they serve out of chuck wagons.”
I shake my head a few times in an attempt to to retrieve logic and sanity once again. “Don’t tell me—the sister?”
“Yes. She said that she and the mother never get out to Tucson, and they want a real Southwestern experience.”
“I should think Majestic Vista and an order of quesadillas would be sufficient.”
“Sadie has the disease to please, as they say.”
“Don’t we all. What is it about women especially? Guys don’t seem to worry about pleasing everyone else all the time. They don’t develop ulcers if someone isn’t happy with their decisions or actions or how they wore their hair that day. Beau is a perfect example. He is barely available to talk to me and dodges golf games with his new friends, but he probably isn’t up all night worrying about letting me—them—down. We take on all that. We practically beg for it.”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir. I grew up trying to please my parents, but by age sixteen I understood it was impossible to do that and be myself. Either they were going to know and like the real me, or they would have to settle for a very civil relationship.”
“And it is quite polite.”
“Positively proper. We never have conversations about dreams or purpose or life’s meaning. Nothing that could involve opinion or dissension. I’ll bet your mom and dad are very real. I could tell by looking at them.”
“They are very authentic people, but I still had to go through the same rebellion.”
“How’d you rebel? Did you refuse to do extra credit in one of your classes?”
“Let’s walk over by the pool on our way back.”
“Good tangent. Spill the goods.”
“I broke up with Marcus, for one.”
“That was to rebel against your parents? You lose a perfectly good relationship because you happened to be dating someone they liked?”
“It was more complicated than that. They had our whole future figured out. I felt trapped. I wanted to see the world. You have to understand that the Urban Center was not exactly the coolest of addresses to call home. My whole childhood was spent waiting to be old enough to break out on my own and live someplace I chose. But my parents practically had Marcus and me married off and stepping in line behind them. I couldn’t see the great part about what they did. I could only see me in ten, twenty, forty years, stuck in the home I grew up in. I thought my only out was to break up with Marcus and start applying to colleges far, far away.”
