Keep Me Posted

by Lisa Beazley

  You’re right. I never thought I’d hear from you. It was hard not to Google you over the years, but I didn’t let myself do that. I let go of any anger I had toward you a long time ago. As it turns out, I’m good at forgiveness. River is amazing. You really missed out, and I think that’s punishment enough for a less-than-mature reaction to a big surprise many years ago. It sounds like you spent a lot of years searching and drifting. I feel sad about that, because I think knowing River might have saved you a lot of trouble. Being his mom has brought purpose and great love into my life. He is a kind and mature and open-minded young man, so maybe I did all right all by myself after all. Of course, Mom and Dad and Joe and Margie were incredible partners in raising him, so he and I are both fortunate that way. I spoke to him about it and he said he’d meet you. And—surprise—we’re renting a house not too far from where you live. There’s a lovely hiking trail right out back, and I’ve always been big on walking when you need to have a difficult conversation. Don’t feel the need to explain things to him unless he asks you to. Just take it slow. You have my blessing to enter River’s life, but I don’t presume to make decisions for him—and River knows that I’ll support whatever kind of relationship (or non-relationship) he chooses to have with you. —Sid I spent Sunday morning working on the blog, and by lunchtime I’d scanned and uploaded sixty-some letters, none of them having anything to do with me. Good news for Leo and me, but many of my readers posted that they were disappointed that my correspondence with Sid would no longer be part of the site. Still, most people were supportive of the new direction, and new commenters were chiming in all the time, with seemingly no connection to the old blog. A handful of meanies forced me to post some rules, and I even banned a couple particularly nasty posters. It had consumed almost all of my time for the past three days, a welcome distraction from my own marital woes. Kenny showed up right on time, at three o’clock. Sid noticed his car pulling up and went outside to meet him while River and I watched from the window. “So that’s him?” he said. “That’s him.” “Do you think I look like him?” “Yeah—I’ve always thought so.” “It’s weird that you know my dad and I don’t.” “It is weird,” was all I could think of to say. We watched Sid and Kenny hug for a long time. It was a sober hug, like one you’d give a close friend at a funeral. Then they talked for a moment and Sid led Kenny up to the house. “Ready?” I asked River. “I guess so,” he said. Kenny’s bigness filled the room immediately. He was slimmer, his face more angular, but his blue eyes were just as bright as I remembered. He seemed taller, and his thick, coarse hair had remained completely white, if a duller gray version of the yellowish mane he’d had when I knew him. There was something natty and put together about his casual outfit—blue corduroys with the wales going horizontally, a beat-up brown leather belt, and a plain white T-shirt. As he and Sid stood there beside each other, their energy and warmth compounded and added a charge to the air. With a big soulful smile, he said in his gravelly voice, “Hi, River.” “Hi,” River said. “I’m Kenny. I’m your dad.” “Okay,” he said, nodding his head and looking at his shoes. A lump formed in my throat, and I looked over at Sid, whose eyes glistened. “Riv, do you want to show Kenny the trails out back?” she said. “Okay. Sure.” River glanced at Kenny and said, “Uh. Follow me.” It was the first time I was ever aware of his teenagerness, and I felt a strong urge to go hug him, but I just stood there. Kenny turned, beaming to Sid on his way out, his gratitude palpable. I felt myself being swept up in a tide of love and family togetherness, forgetting for a moment that my own little family wasn’t doing so great. Sid and I stood in the front room and watched through the windows as Kenny and River walked out on the porch and turned toward the trails. Watching them go, I had an irrational internal alarm go off that Sid had just sent her son into the woods with a former drug dealer and inmate whom we really didn’t know that much about. I looked over at her, wondering what she was thinking, but not wanting to puncture the silence with the wrong thing. We stood there even though there was nothing to see until a car appeared, turning in and pulling slowly up the gravel drive. “Looks like Stevie’s car,” I said. When it stopped and Leo stepped out, I felt my heart growing and straining against its little shell like the Grinch’s does when he finally grasps the real meaning of Christmas. Sid kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’ll go see how the boys are doing with those Legos.” I walked out to the front porch and waved hello to Leo. “Hey, Cass,” he said. “Hi, honey. I’m really glad you’re here.” “Where are the boys?” he asked. “Playing Legos with Sid upstairs. They are going to be so happy to see you.” “Me too—I miss them.” “We all miss you.” “So I thought I’d stay here tonight,” he said. I immediately felt lighter. “Great. Listen, I’m not assuming anything, but I would really love to hug you right now,” I said. He opened his arms, and I went to him, turning my face sideways to rest against his chest. He smelled like different laundry detergent and Altoids. I wondered if he’d been smoking again. When he stroked my hair with one hand, I thought, Okay. Everything is going to be okay. “Do you want to talk?” I asked him. “I don’t think so,” he said, releasing me. But then he started talking anyway. “I really don’t want to read your letters, Cass. So don’t ask me about that again, okay?” I nodded. He continued. “But I fucking hate it that a million other people have read them. If you were having such a hard time, you should have talked to me about it. Not cheated with your ex. God, Cass, I fucking hate that you did that.” When someone uses the term “fucking hate” twice in ten seconds, it’s not generally a good sign. Without speaking, I tried to convey with my eyes how much I agreed with everything he was saying. He was looking over my head at the house now. “Do you want to go in?” I asked. We walked up the stairs in silence, but once we were inside, the tension began to fade and we both behaved seminormally. “Cool place,” Leo said. “Isn’t it great? The boys are loving all the hiding places.” “They’re upstairs?” he asked, motioning to the staircase. “Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you,” I said. “That’s all right. I’ll find them,” he said, and bounded upstairs. Within seconds, I heard gleeful “Daddy!!!” sounds, and let myself shed a quick tear. Sid came down and walked into the kitchen to get started on a sweet potato and kale chowder recipe we’d found in one of the books at the house to go with the chicken that was roasting in the oven. “You okay?” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, biting my lip, which she of course knew signaled that I was not okay, but she let it go and we stayed busy with silent food prep. Sid and I were setting the table when River and Kenny came back in through the front door. “Hey, guys!” Sid called, searching their faces for a sign of how things went. “Hey!” they said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed, if a bit nervously. “How was your hike?” “Cool,” River said. “Yeah, cool,” added Kenny. Sid studied River’s face for a few seconds, and then, as if she had derived his permission telepathically, asked Kenny if he’d like to stay for dinner. “I’d love to,” he said. Then Kenny turned to me. “Cassie. It is great to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t say hi earlier. It was kind of a big moment for me.” Before I could answer him, the doorbell rang twice and the door opened. “Hel-loo-ooo!” It was Jill, my real estate agent. With her loose spirals of orange hair and rosy cheeks, she was just plump and cheerful enough to qualify as jolly. “So what do you think?” she said when she found us gathered around the kitchen island. She placed a brown shopping bag down on the counter and from it removed two pies. “Miller’s. Best in the county.” “Oh—thank you. How sweet. The place is great. Thanks for finding it on such short notice,” I said. “They’re asking $795, which I know is higher than we discussed, but I think we could offer low,” she said. “The seller is anxious.” I was confused. “It’s for sale?” “Yes, of course. What did you think you were doing here?” she said. “Uuuh. Renti
ng it for the week.” “No, no, no. I had to convince the seller to let you rent it. He doesn’t normally do this, but I told him you were serious. And that you wouldn’t mind me showing the house while you were here. The guy’s wife left him, and he moved to his apartment in the city full-time. Says he never wants to see this place again. He doesn’t even want the furniture. It comes with everything you see. Of course, we’ll get everything carted away if you don’t want it.” Before I had a chance to respond to Jill, we were interrupted by screams. “Monster!!! Monster!!!” The boys and Leo came bounding up the basement stairs and spilled into the kitchen. They’d been giving Leo an extremely thorough tour of the place. “It is spooky down there,” Leo said, scooping up Joey and hanging him upside down by the legs, eliciting squeals of delight. “Perfect for a cheese cave, though,” and then looked up and noticed the two strangers standing in the kitchen. He looked surprised but set Joey down and extended his hand to introduce himself to Jill and Kenny. I could tell he was expecting someone to tell him who these people were. “Kenny is an old friend of Sid’s,” I said. “And Jill is who found us this house.” “Oh,” he said, looking back and forth between them, “what a coincidence.” “Actually, no—hon. They aren’t together,” I felt the need to explain. Nervous laughter from Jill and Kenny filled the silence while Leo continued to look confused. I hated that we all had information he didn’t. “Kenny is, um, that Kenny. You know, River’s dad,” I continued. Leo visibly softened. “No way, man,” he said, reaching out to shake Kenny’s hand again, this time adding an arm grasp. “Great to meet you.” His eyes then sought out River’s. Grinning beatifically, he nodded his head at River, who returned the smile. Quinn said, “River has a dad?” “Yep,” River said. “Everyone has a dad, but not everyone gets to know them and live with them like you guys. You’re lucky that way.” Trying to ignore the prophetic overtones of River’s sweet explanation, I led the next chorus of nervous laughter that propped up the whole awkward scene. Feeling weird about being the one to announce River and Kenny’s relationship like that, I was trying to figure out whether my own less interesting but still secret relationship with Jill needed to be revealed at that moment. I looked over at her. She was smirking, clearly enjoying the Maury Povich moment unfolding here in the kitchen. When she felt my eyes on her, she jolted out of her daze and said, “Anyhoo, Cassie, I should run. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” She hurried out, yelling over her shoulder, “Enjoy, everyone!” “Who was that again?” Leo asked after she left. Timing is everything, isn’t it? What could have been easily explained away any other time was now another secret that—if he saw it as a lie—could be a real problem. I was staring at the pies on the counter, thinking that maybe Leo should pick one up and throw it in my face. I would be surprised, but not mad. I deserved it. He’d immediately feel bad and come over to me but would slip in the blueberry mess on the floor, pulling me down with him. We’d be all messy and we’d hug and kiss and that would be the beginning of our road back to wedded bliss. “Her name is Jill. She’s a real estate agent up here. Um, why don’t we take the boys out back for some fresh air and I’ll explain?” I said, grabbing two beers from the fridge—Samuel Smith’s, his favorite, which I had stocked in case he came. I handed him one and told the boys to find their shoes and jackets. Quinn and Joey set to work gathering sticks for the campfire they’d been promised. Leo and I stood side by side, watching them and yelling out encouragement or “Careful! Don’t swing that near your brother!” admonishments here and there. The air was crisp but not quite chilly, and leaves were starting to fall. It would be dark soon. “So,” I began. The weary look on Leo’s face spoke volumes about his expectations of me. The term “so over me” came to mind. I couldn’t blame him. I was tired of my bullshit, too. “Jill’s been showing me some properties.” Leo’s eyes went wide. “You were planning to move out?” “Oh God. No, no, no, no,” I said. “What happened was that I just started looking at bigger apartments for us for fun, and it kind of became a hobby that I never told you about for some reason.” That sounded bad. Nonetheless, I continued. “I started in Brooklyn, and before I knew it, on Tuesdays, when the boys were with Wanda, I was looking at places all the way out here. I only wanted to see if I could picture us ever moving out of the city.” “Jesus, Cass. I don’t care. I mean, I kind of do now, but I didn’t. I mean I wouldn’t have cared. God, you and your secrets.” Poor Leo was so irritated with me that he could barely get the words out. “We used to tell each other everything,” he added, a touch of sadness in his voice. I promised myself then that I was done with secrets. “Honey. Leo. Let’s put the boys in front of a movie and go out to dinner in town. We can talk. We’ll be home by the time it’s over, and Sid and River and Kenny can have a nice meal together.” “No, thanks,” he said coolly. “I brought camping gear. I thought I’d pitch a tent with the boys in the yard tonight.” It was a sweet thing to do. One of their favorite bedtime stories was about a boy who goes camping with his dad, but all I could think was that it was a handy way for Leo to avoid the issue of sleeping in the same bed with me. “In fact, hold on. I should put it up before it gets dark.” He handed me his beer and jogged around to the front of the house, where his car was parked. When he returned, I showed him a nice flat patch in the yard, and he agreed it was a good place for the tent. The boys were thrilled about the campout and wanted to help with the tent, but Leo did this whole funny mock-angry thing about the measly pile of sticks they’d gathered and told them that if they wanted a decent fire, they’d better find five times as many. Shaking out the tent, he said, “So Rob said Becky is pretty pissed at you,” though his voice was light and he even gave me a hint of a smile. I placed both beers on the ground and went to help him with the tent. “I know. Did Mary tell you about our talk?” “You talked to my mom?” “We had lunch last week. She confronted me about the blog. Apparently, Becky won’t shut up about it.” “Sounds about right,” he said. I grabbed a pole and extended it while he did the same with the other. “Anyway, your mom thinks I’m ridiculous, blogs in general are ridiculous, and that people who read them are the most ridiculous of all.” He laughed. “Which would make you less ridiculous than Becky, I guess.” “Works for me,” I said. We finished putting up the tent in silence. It felt good to be working together on something. “Perfect,” he said when it was done, and leaned down to grab our beers. He handed me one, and just as I was starting to relax, considering telling him about how well the new blog was doing, he said, “You know she knows about the whole Jake thing, right?” I crumpled a bit and said, “I know. Did you tell her?” “No. I wasn’t going to say anything, because I didn’t want her to hate you, but she dragged it out of poor Stevie.” Yes! I thought. I’m in! He wouldn’t care what his mom thought of me if he didn’t plan on getting back together. “Well, it came up at lunch, and it was pretty brutal. I told her about some things I would happily have gone to my grave never telling anyone, let alone my mother-in-law, but your mom is tough, and pretty understanding, after all. She even told me to let her handle Becky.” “I guess that explains why she called me all, Don’t you divorce that girl!” “Really?” “Yeah. You know she’s always thought you were good for me.” “Actually, I did not know that.” We both took a long, slow swig and looked out into the forest. River came out and handed us each a new beer, taking our empties. He and Leo shot the breeze for a few seconds, but despite the boost I’d just received, I couldn’t bring myself to be light and chatty quite yet. River seemed to sense this and backed away as Kenny and Sid came out to join him. River and Kenny carried the big picnic table out closer to the fire pit, with Sid following close behind, carrying a tablecloth and a basket of cutlery and napkins. While she set the table, River and Kenny went about building a fire with Quinn’s and Joey’s help. It was a moving scene: River reunited with his dad, doing this iconic father-
son thing, my own little boys bringing them sticks and struggling to lift the logs. I found it impossible not to melt a little bit. Sid passed us on her way back to the house and must have noticed that we were both just standing there, watching everyone. “You did that, you know,” she called over to me. “Did what?” “Brought them together,” she said, and continued back toward the house. I hadn’t thought of that. It floored me for a second. This thing that until just days ago had seemed like the worst thing that ever happened to me had officially redeemed itself. River had his dad back. Quinn and Joey came barreling into our legs then. Leo looked at me and said, “I do like it here.” The next morning I woke while it was still dark, uneasily aware that the boys were not in their bedroom but bolstered by that promising conversation with Leo. I was also anxious because the site had crashed last night. I’d called Monica, who seemed to think the crash was a good thing, indicating that traffic was too great for the free host we’d been using. She said she’d call her Web guy first thing in the morning and see if he could meet with me. I wished I could just talk to Leo about it, but I didn’t want to distract him from the matter of our reunion, which I hoped was imminent. I went downstairs and started the coffee machine, then made hot cocoa on the stove. When it was done, I parked with my coffee at the back table, watching out the window for signs of life in the tent. Soon Sid and Lulu came down and joined me at the table. While Lulu snacked on dry Cheerios, I told Sid about the crash and asked if she could watch the boys later while I went into the city to get the site fixed and check the PO box. I didn’t mention the “real money” Monica had predicted the site could make or the marketing consultant she wanted to introduce me to, but it all weighed heavily on me as I stared out at the tent. I let the fleeting fantasy of owning this house run wild in my head, placing the garden and jungle gym in the yard, extending the deck, painting the bedrooms. I wanted to tell Sid, but I was worried that I couldn’t articulate my longing for this house without sounding materialistic or whiny, or like I was putting the house before my family. But the thing was, the house had become inseparable from my vision of a happy ending to this whole thing. Sid got busy with Lulu’s breakfast, and I kept watch at the window. When I saw movement in the tent, I ran to pour the cocoa into the four mugs I’d set on the tray and rushed out to the yard before they could come inside. Leo was unzipping the tent as I stood there inches from the opening, smiling and holding my tray and feeling just a little silly and desperate. “Hey,” he said sleepily, stepping into his boots. The sight of him first thing in the morning was not something I’d experienced in almost two weeks, and it filled me with emotion. The tray of steaming-hot beverages prevented it, but I longed to wrap my arms around him and nestle my head into his neck. “Cocoa?” I said. The boys stumbled out, and Leo helped them put their shoes on before they stepped onto the dewy grass. We sat around the fire pit, the boys bundled in their sleeping bags, and sipped from our steaming mugs for only a couple minutes before Joey had to pee. I took him in and then brought him back, trading him for Quinn and bringing Leo a coffee. Soon the boys were cold and wanted breakfast, so I told them to go on in. There were muffins and bananas on the table. “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” I promised. “Aunt Sid and Lulu are in the kitchen. Go ahead.” When they were gone I turned to Leo, but he spoke first. “So I told the boys last night. I’m taking the week off of work and getting away for a bit.” “Getting away?” “Yeah. Stevie has to drive up to Boston for meetings, so I’m going to keep him company. I’ll be back Friday.” We were supposed to be out of the house on Saturday morning, and I’d hoped to have some things between us resolved by then, things like, Where do I go when I leave here? “And then?” “I don’t know. I need to think.” Then he said something about needing to get to Midtown by nine thirty and asked if I minded taking down the tent once the condensation dried. “Sure. Take care, hon.” “Bye, Cass,” he said, turning and walking toward the house. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE