He sat and eyed the stack like he was waiting for it to make the first move. "They're like regular pancakes?" He lifted the top one with his fork and peered underneath.
"Ben, they are pancakes. This was supposed to be a surprise. A good one." I slammed the bottle of syrup on the table." If you don't want them, find something else. But eat. You have to be ready when Julie gets here."
"I was just asking. Sheesh." He squeezed the bottle with both hands and made smaller and smaller circles of syrup until there wasn't a dry spot on the top pancake.
We made it through breakfast without any major catastrophes, so I sent him off to get dressed. He had to make two return trips. One to brush his teeth, and the other to brush his hair.
I straightened his shirt collar while he stared out the back window. "I thought we had somebody to cut the grass? What happened?"
"That somebody is me for now. The man who used to do it moved, and I haven't found anyone else." Plus, I can save money.
"I think I could help you do that." He narrowed his eyes, and looked like he was assessing the situation to give me a quote. "Or maybe you could buy one of those lawnmowers you drive around the yard."
"You know, I hadn't thought of that. I'll check it out." With my driving record, it could end up being more costly than another yard service.
"If you get one, could I drive it?"
"Probably not. At least not right now." I checked behind his ears.
"I'm not two." He tilted his head away from me. "They're clean."
Julie's horn saved him from a neck inspection. I walked him to the door.
"You remembered your bug project?"
"Yes, Mom." Ben slipped his backpack on and scrunched his face when I wiped the corner of his mouth with my thumb." Eww. That's gross."
"Not as gross as showing up at school with toothpaste crust on your face," I said. "Have a great day, and by the time you're home from school, I'll be finished with the luncheon."
"And I'll be finished with school till next year!"
"That's right. Today's your last day before the holidays." I hugged him. "It's a big day for both of us."
18
Of course the one morning I needed the interstate to be accident free, the other drivers didn't cooperate. Twenty minutes behind schedule. I called Kirby and explained what was going on.
"I'm probably just a few minutes in front of you, so we should arrive close to the same time," she said. "And if this is one of those endless delays, I know where to find food."
Whew. At least she had a sense of humor. "And I won't be hard to locate. You'll just follow the smell of shrimp and smoked oysters."
"Oh, that should make you popular with the cars around you. Don't worry. I can already spot flashing red lights ahead, so it's getting cleared. I'll see you soon."
I closed my cell phone and readjusted my earring that had mashed into the side of my cheek. It was time for me to buy one of those Bluetooth jobs, but it would be so much more exciting to buy a car already Bluetooth enabled. Of course, then I'd need to retire the primitive cell phone, which would mean I'd need a different cell phone plan. Good grief. Technology was a lot like that book I used to read to Ben about giving a mouse a cookie, then he would want a glass of milk, then a mirror to check for a milk moustache, and on and on and on until he ended up exactly where he started.
If only Smart phones were priced like cookies . . .
The milk mustache reminded me to check my smile in the rearview mirror to make sure my two front teeth weren't edged in lipstick. A social mortification second to coming home after an event to discover broccoli, popcorn kernels, or pepper wedged between my teeth. Yet another bonding experience for Julie and me. In public, we'd be human mirrors for any teethrelated issues. After a meal we'd give each other a quick dentist office smile, code for "make sure my teeth aren't holding food bits hostage." And if one of us said "lipstick," the other knew that called for an immediate teeth wipe. Bizarre the things that bonded friends. The small acts that said we watched each other's back, or in this case, front to protect one another from embarrassment. Today, though, I was on my own.
Satisfied my teeth passed the test, I settled into my seat, and picked up my travel mug, a stainless steel one monogrammed with my initials. A gift from David not long after Ben started school because, as he said, "You're spending more time in the car than home." And since it eliminated drive-thrus, it saved me time and money. And David knew better than anyone that I lacked both of those. The lid disappeared months later, but as long as I didn't fill it, it wasn't a problem. Until today, when the truck in front of me stopped sooner than I expected, which caused me to stomp on the brake pedal, which caused coffee to spill over the edges of the mug, which landed on my skirt, which caused me to want to say words I learned not to say since the day Ben explained to his pre-school teacher that a "d$%# accident made us late."
I hoped this didn't predict a give-a-mouse-a-cookie kind of day. I blotted coffee with the MickeyD napkins I found on the passenger side floorboard. Finally, I arrived and probably not long after Kirby and her crew.
The house sat on lakefront property and had undergone an extensive remodel last year. When I drove up, I remembered it from the before and after pictures when it had been featured in our local magazine. The six columns of the plantation style house soared to the second story. Porches and galleries ran along all four sides. The stucco at the ground level and the wood at the upper were painted a creamy butter color. Above the oversized cypress doors was a cut class transom.
I just pulled out the tray of skewered artichoke and garlic shrimp when my cell phone rang. The phone slipped out of my hands. I tried to balance the tray I held and forgot about the tray of crab stuffed mushroom perched on the tailgate. One tray clobbered another, and dozens of mushrooms slid down and landed on the street.
I'd already pressed answer, so I could hear Ben's voice." Mom, are you there? It's me. Ben."
I snatched the phone from where it had landed on the street. "I can't believe you're calling me right now. Is this an emergency?" "Not really," he said. I stepped away from the glop near my feet. You know I'm right in the middle of this important job. I don't have time to talk. If you forgot something at home, I can't help you today. You'll have to figure out what to do. I have to go because I have a huge mess to clean up."
I snapped the phone closed and tossed it on the seat of my car. That's it. I've been too protective. I've babied that kid too much. He needs to learn this lesson. I'll apologize later for being so loud when I talked to him.
But right now, Kirby and Lizette walked to the car to see if I needed any more help. But unless the three of us could throw together another appetizer, the entire tray was unsalvageable.
A lesson learned for my next event. Make an extra tray of something—anything.
As I garnished the black bean and corn salad with cilantro, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. The school phone number flashed, and my aggravation right along with it. I almost didn't answer, but I'm listed on Nick's emergency card, so I didn't want to risk that it might be about him.
"Mom?" Ben again. His voice crept out, and I could see him on the other side with his head down and his eyes round. Probably scuffing the toe of his shoe on the carpet.
"Ben. I'm very busy. What do you want?"
"My teacher said I could call you back. I wanted you to know that I didn't forget my project. I called because, well, you didn't bring the cookies for the party. I was afraid something happened because I knew you wouldn't forget because you promised."
I looked around to see if there was a hole deep enough for me to fling myself into. My shame, though, nailed my feet to the hardwood floors beneath me. I looked at the clock. No way could I make cookies happen. I could make a catered luncheon for seventy-five happen, but not a few dozen chocolate-dipped sugar cookies. With icing and sprinkles.
"Oh, no. Ben. I'm so . . ." Stupid? Selfish? Inconsiderate? His silence intensified my pain. It's as if he knew I
searched for the right word, and he waited for me to find it so he could hear the truth. "Sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Okay." I heard acknowledgment, not forgiveness in his voice.
"Ben, is Ms. Richmond there?"
"Yes. She's right here."
"Can you hand her the phone for me, please?"
I heard him tell Michelle I wanted to talk to her, but then he came back. "Are you still picking me up from school? Ms. Richmond wants to know."
Made an outstanding impression on, not only Ben's teacher, but the friend who helped me launch the teacher meals that reached almost a dozen schools. "Yes. I will most definitely be there. In fact, don't wait in car line. I'll park and walk to the classroom. Okay?" Oh, generous me.
I felt as if I was about to be assigned detention, maybe worse, as I waited for Michelle to talk to me.
"Hi, Caryn." She wore her 'I'm the cleaner, and I'm here to tidy up this mess' voice. "Ben asked if he could call one more time. I hope you didn't mind."
"No. No, of course not." I stared out the kitchen windows. The backyard sloped to the lake where a gazebo-covered pier deck had been built. It looked like an inviting place to be right now. "I apologize for letting Ben and the kids down. I'm in the middle of catering a luncheon today, and I honestly forgot. I feel like an idiot. Is there any way I can help make this up to them?"
"Actually, Ben figured out a plan. The class was treated to those magnificent cupcakes from Babycakes, that new bakery in town. It couldn't have turned out better," she said. I could tell she meant it, but I didn't understand.
"How did that happen?"
I wandered into the study or if it wasn't, it should have been. I opened the blinds to see the wall color. It looked like cinnamon. The large room had been divided into two distinct areas. In one area was the actual office itself, which was shaped like a U. The office overlooked a second area centered on a flat screen TV. It could have served as a small apartment.
"Ben remembered his Uncle David was listed on his emergency card, so he asked if he could call him. I think he hoped he would know where you were. When Ben explained to him what happened, he told Ben he'd be at the school before the party ended. And he was. Came in carrying those three dozen cupcakes. Ben was so proud, he introduced him to everyone in the class."
Kirby and Nan didn't mind my leaving a half-hour early so as not to be late getting Ben. I opened my car door and willed myself behind the steering wheel. What I wanted to do was kick off my heels, stretch out on the backseat, and sleep until I could wake up a whole person.
I didn't remember that David was on Ben's emergency card, so the fact that Ben did stunned me. As grateful as I felt for David having rescued Ben, he just tipped the scales in his favor. Since neither Ben nor Michelle mentioned anyone being with David, I supposed he arrived alone. At least I didn't have that to explain. As it is, before we hung up, his teacher said, "You didn't tell me your brother was so attractive." I surely wouldn't now.
I drove to Ben's school, and felt like I was headed to the punishment phase of my trial. Today, I would've opted for a long jail sentence since I wouldn't have to cook, clean, or worry about what to wear. A simplified life.
Ben didn't see me at first. He leaned against the brick wall, his backpack at his feet, and held a red box covered with green polka dots that could have held a ten-gallon hat. Next to him stood a girl wearing a white ribbon woven through her French braids. Compared to Ben, she seemed all arms and legs. The kind of gawky that in ten years will bloom into beautiful. Did Ben even notice her? Should he notice her? What do kids these days and this age do about the opposite sex? I wondered if David leaned against walls and tried to figure himself out when he was Ben's age.
My exhaustion was leading me down unmarked and untraveled roads. Some of them needed "Trespassers will be Shot" signs.
What if Michelle asked me about David? She knew he'd been engaged, and by now, like everyone else in a twenty mile radius of the central traffic signal in town, also knew the wedding had been canceled. What should I say? "David's just not ready to date yet" or "David's dating. He's just not dating women"? How come there was no handbook for this? Would I have bought it anyway? I might have, like I buy all things that I think people would use to judge me. I would order it online, and it would come in the mail, and no one would know.
David had an unfair advantage. He knew people on both sides. I didn't know any gay men or women that I could confide in. Or maybe I did know them. Maybe I just didn't know they were gay. No, that couldn't be. Surely, I'd know. But then, I didn't know about David.
When Ben spotted me, he turned to French Braid, said something that made her laugh, and walked toward me. But the grin that usually rewarded me on afternoons like today was missing. Probably in that red box somewhere.
"See, I made it," I smiled, sounded happy, and didn't attempt more than a one shoulder hug in front of his friends. "Where's Ms. Richmond? I want her to know you're with me."
"She went in the office."
"Well, let's go tell her we're leaving."
He shrugged. "Sure."
"Do you need some help with that box?"
"No. I saved cupcakes for the Pierces." He opened the top." And you."
19
It was just a matter of time before you self-combusted." Julie opened another box of Christmas ornaments. "You're just lucky the Junior League luncheon went so well."
"Yes, despite the fact that an entire tray of stuffed mushrooms filled with expensive crabmeat fell in the street." She handed me strands of twinkle lights begging to be unraveled." Are you sure you want to start this while Nick and Trey are gone?"
Julie pulled pieces of last year's tinsel off the hat of a wooden snowman. "Last year Trey made sure the lights worked, put a few ornaments on, then snored on the sofa. After Nick hung all the ornaments that he made over the years, he kept asking when we could quit for the hot chocolate and cookies. Not quite the Hallmark moment I expected." She unrolled and shook out their needlepoint Christmas stockings. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's looking for a totally decorated tree that folds, ornaments, garlands and all. Don't think either one of them will mind if we get a head start."
I handed her their stocking holders, three gold fleur-de-lis, for the fireplace mantel. "Do you ever think about how things would be different having a daughter?" I wondered, more often than I should have, if I had missed my chance. But then I might have missed Harrison and Ben.
She hooked Nick's stocking, his name embroidered in white against forest green velvet with a train loaded with presents headed toward the toe, then rearranged the other two holders." I'd like to have a daughter," she said and her voice sounded as if she'd climbed on Santa's lap herself with her Christmas list. "My mom and I went through a few rough years. She tells people I went in a tunnel until I was twenty. But, by the time I came out, we were friends."
I nodded remembering a time when my mother was the only person I wanted to talk to, the only person who could have comforted me, and the only person whose disappointment I feared. If heaven didn't have secrets, then what I couldn't tell her then, she knew now. But whatever comfort that brought me subsided when I realized that Harrison knew as well.
Maybe if Julie ever did have a daughter, they could learn something from my experience even if it was too late for me." I doubt Trey would mind practicing for a girl," I teased and handed her his Santa trimming the tree stocking.
"Are you kidding? He'd train like it was an Olympic event."
"You don't make that sound positive."
"Do you know how long it took to convince him that once a week meant normal frequency?" She grabbed a handful of red and green peanut M&M's, and popped one at a time into her mouth between hanging her own cotton white angel stocking on the other side of Nick's and making sure the three were evenly spaced on the mantel. "You and Harrison quadrupled that on a weekly basis. I used to hope they didn't compare normals."
"That's one less thing you have to worry about," I said and,
before what I suspected would be an apology about to roll out her open mouth, I added, "And don't knock it until you've actually tried it."
After Julie's fifth "I'm such an idiot" apology and a fresh cup of Toasted Almond coffee, I declared her sufficiently mortified and the discussion about former and present relationships with former and present husbands officially over.
We sorted through their ornament collection to find small ones for the top branches of the tree. I volunteered for ladder duty and just as I reached to hang a Baby's First Christmas ornament, a blue bassinet with 'Nicholas' engraved on it, my cell phone rang.
"Do you need to get that?"
"No. If it's Sidney Washington, it's really just someone calling for him. Lurlene," I said with a feigned sophistication, "would certainly leave a message. Otherwise, I don't think I'd be getting too many calls the week before Christmas for catering. "
"Here, hang this one front and center so Trey's mother won't have to dance around the tree pretending like she's not looking for it."
I almost fell into the Douglas fir when I saw the ornament." Penguins? With Santa hats and little matching scarves. I'm speechless."
"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh. When we start on your tree, I'm going to find that treasure of yours with the two bears paddling a canoe. I may even take a picture, and post it on Facebook."
"You didn't just stick your tongue out at me, did you?" I laughed and climbed off the ladder and pushed it to another section of the tree. "Truce. Let's get at least the top finished before the guys return."
Five ornaments later the phone vibrated again, but this time it also pinged that someone sent a text message. "Got to hand it to Sidney. The man's persistent." I patted my pocket.
"Maybe you ought to check. It might not be Sidney. Isn't your dad still on his cruise or hike or whatever they're doing?"
The Edge of Grace Page 12
