“There is no reason for you to live alone, Mom.”
She gazes at me over the top of her glasses. “I appreciate your letting me stay with you, sweetheart. But it’s been a month now, and I think it’s time I got out from under your feet.”
“You are not under my feet, and if I have done anything to make you feel that way, I’m sorry.”
“Your divorce is final. It’s time you got out, started dating, started living your life. You’re not going to do that if I’m living with you.”
I finger the handle of my mug and consider this.
“And to tell you the truth,” she says, “I don’t think your Dad would want me to tuck myself away on a shelf, either. I’m going to travel. One of the things that made me decide to take the apartment at West Oaks Village is that they have an active travel club. Next month we’re off to Ipanema, Brazil.”
She holds her arms like a flamenco dancer and snaps her fingers like castanets.
I want to be happy for her —that she’s gathered so much strength to forge ahead. But I can’t just yet. I’m stuck back at the starting block having just come to terms with her moving in with me, of me taking care of her, of her needing me.
“Katie, don’t look at me like that. You’ve lived in emotional purgatory far too long, and it’s time you moved on.” She takes my hand. “Just because one relationship ends doesn’t mean life is over. Just as the end of your marriage doesn’t mean you’re a failure in life. The only thing that brands one a failure is letting opportunities for happiness slip by unrealized.
“I loved your father and will grieve for him for a long time—maybe for the rest of my life—but I want to travel and live the next chapters of my life as fully as I can.”
As my mother sips her tea, I have a moment of clarity. It’s not so much that I’ll miss her needing me. I’ll miss the friendship we’ve forged. We’ve always been close, but in this month that we’ve lived together, we’ve surpassed the mother-daughter relation and become friends. We’ve shared the precious jewels of ourselves we found as we’ve sifted through life’s rubble. We’ve polished them, strung them together and worn them proudly like a beautiful necklace on the way to forging this intimate friendship.
That is what I will miss most about my mother not living with me. But I know she is right. I know it is time we moved on.
I start to tell her so, but the phone rings.
“May I speak to Kate Hennessey, please?”
“This is she.”
“Hello Kate, this is Marilyn Griggs from the museum. I’m calling with good news. The board loved your presentation and would like for you to design the interior of the new building.”
Several weeks later, I’m lying down with Caitlin waiting for her to fall asleep. I stare at the dark ceiling and remember the time Jon told the girls how a star begins as a cloud of black dust and gas. It has to build a lot of pressure before it can shine.
Ha! How very ironic that is.
When Caitlin’s breathing reaches the rhythmic pattern of slumber, I get up, walk to her window and look out. It’s a clear night and stars twinkle in the sky, but her window faces west so I can’t see what I’m looking for.
I go downstairs. Jack follows me outside. Dragging a chair into the yard, I search the southern sky. For a minute I can’t find it, but then I see it—the three stars close together: Orion’s belt.
I fall into the chair and sit there for a long time staring up at it.
Tomorrow, I’ll be forty.
With all that’s happened over the past months, I’ve certainly earned star status.
I have a new career; Mom’s become the girl from Ipanema—at least she’s standing on her own two feet. Obviously, I didn’t give her enough credit.
My divorce is final. Corbin showed great decency by not contesting the agreement. It was a clean, simple break, which was a little bittersweet considering the twenty years of our lives we gave to each other and the way he was all set to move back in after Dad’s funeral. But it’s best this way. Those years are not gone. I will tuck away the memories, like photos in an album, and pull them out occasionally. There may be years that I don’t bother to take the album down from the shelf. But they’ll always be there when I choose to remember.
It’s such a clear night. I can see the stars that form Orion’s head.
I swear one of them is winking at me.
Jack is exploring the far corner of the yard. I leave him outside as I go in and get the phone.
I settle back in my chair, take one last look up before I dial Jon’s number.
My heart beats like the wings of a caged bird. I haven’t talked to him since the few brief words we exchanged at Dad’s funeral.
He may not want to talk to me.
I’m a little disappointed when his answering machine picks up.
After the beep I say, “Hi Jon, it’s Kate. I was sitting here looking at the stars, and I was thinking about Orion and his woman, Merope. She made a big mistake giving up a great guy like that. But you know how stars are—they have to go through a lot before they can really come into their own. Merope knows that now. She had a great guy and…well, she blew it. But I couldn’t help but hope if Orion really cared for Merope, maybe he’d give her a second chance?”
After I hang up the phone I go upstairs to bed. I walk down the hall to my studio to turn off the light. Hera smiles at me from her place on the wall.
You don’t need me anymore, sister goddess, you’re just fine.
And for the first time ever, I really believe it.
I’m forty today.
Mom and Caitlin spoiled me the entire day. They scheduled a day of beauty at the Euro Day Spa. I had a massage, an aromatherapy hydro treatment, which boiled down to a big whirlpool tub spiked with delicious essential oils. The bath was in a candlelit room, Enya played on the sound system, and I sipped cucumber-lemon reverse-osmosis water—whatever that is.
After that I had a manicure and pedicure.
I feel like a new woman—or maybe this is how forty is supposed to feel?
It’s off to a good start. I talked to Rainey and Alex first thing—a three-way conference call over which they sang “Happy Birthday.” I loved it, but I told them not to quit their day jobs—I know, it’s pretty unoriginal to say that, but they have many other good qualities that make up for their lack of musical talent.
Hey, I guess you can’t have it all. But we sure can try.
Jon didn’t return my call, but I’m not surprised. I mean, what did I expect? I’m not going to dwell on it, but despite everything that happened between us I hoped I might hear from him today.
I guess I get a little sentimental when it comes to birthdays. But not everyone feels the same.
If I’ve learned one thing this year, it’s that no matter how well you think you know someone, you never really know them. The only person you can rely on is yourself.
I hope that doesn’t sound bitter, because I’m not.
Really.
I’ve reached a calm. Maybe it’s all the to-do that surrounds turning forty. Once you’re there it’s anticlimactic. But that’s all right.
So now that I’m bathed, massaged, manicured and thoroughly relaxed, Mom—who is tanned and lovely, freshly returned from the Ipanema beaches—Caitlin and I are on our way to dinner. My favorite restaurant, Bella. Always a treat, but tonight with my two special girls, the experience will be superb.
Mom valet parks the car.
We step inside. I love the beautiful Italian marble floors and the frescoed walls. Mmm…and the smell of the wood-burning oven. I hang back while Mom speaks to the maître d’. I’m sure she’s taking the opportunity to advise him it’s my birthday. I’ll be a good sport. At least here they don’t embarrass the celebrant too badly by making a spectacle of her.
The maître d’ smiles at me. “Happy birthday. Right this way.”
Can I call ’em or what?
“What are you in the mood for?” Mom asks as we walk
.
I smile. “I’ve had my heart set on the salmon. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
We enter the back room.
“SURPRISE!”
What—?
“Oh my God—”
I see Rainey and Alex and a sea of balloons and— “Daniel?”
He hugs me. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
I hold him at arm’s length and look at him because I can’t believe he’s here. “When did you get in?”
“I flew in about an hour and a half ago. Rainey picked me up from the airport.”
“We’ve only been here about twenty minutes. For a while, I was afraid we wouldn’t make it before you did,” Rainey says.
Alex hugs me. “I was afraid I was going to have to call your mom and have her come up with a good excuse to waylay you.”
“How about a glass of champagne?” The voice comes from behind me. Its deep, rich timbre reminds me of a spring night at the beach, under a blanket of stars. It courses through me like the tide lapping over the shore.
“Jon.”
I turn. He offers me a flute of bubbly and a smile.
“Happy birthday, Kate. You look beautiful. You’re glowing.”
“I thought—”
“I’d have called you sooner, but I was afraid I’d spoil the surprise.”
I take the champagne, and he kisses me on the cheek.
The seven of us sit down to a lovely dinner and dessert. After the last present is opened and the last goodbye is said, Jon offers me a ride home.
“You go with that handsome man,” my mother says. “Take her out dancing or somewhere fun. I’ll take the kids to my house—all three of them. Molly, would you like to spend the night, if it’s all right with your daddy?”
She nods and looks at Jon with hopeful, pleading kid eyes.
“It’s fine with me.”
I look at Daniel, not wanting to leave him so soon after he arrived. “But—”
My son holds up a hand.
“Go, Mom. I’m going with Grandma. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After we leave the restaurant, Jon drives to Lake Osceola near Rollin’s College.
We park, and he takes my hand as we walk down to the dock. A full moon shines on the water, and the faint scent of jasmine hangs in the air, heady and sweet.
“I got you something for your birthday.”
“Jon, you didn’t have to do that. Your being here tonight is enough.”
He pulls a parchment scroll tied with a pink ribbon from his jacket pocket. “I had a star named for you.”
His words steal my breath. I open the scroll and see the certificate from the International Star Registry.
“Oh, Jon. How beautiful.”
As we walk to the bench at the end of the dock, he says, “I had a heart-to-heart with Orion. I’m pretty sure I’ve straightened him out about Merope—if she’ll still have him.”
I smile. “I have it on good authority that Merope may want to take it slow, but she welcomes this Orion character into her life with open arms.”
He kisses me long and slow.
When we take a breath, I look up and see a star twinkling in the southern sky, or maybe it’s just a glint in Jon’s eyes. Whichever it is, I am certain it’s a sign that life does begin at forty.
OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE NEW
copyright © 2005 Nancy Robards Thompson
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4407-8
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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