Mike and Tory drove David to the airport the next morning. I was meeting with the real-estate agent who’d showed me the downtown property. I wanted to know how much Ed thought I could get for my house.
I’d just finished loading the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. Muffin dashed to the door, running so fast she slipped on the hardwood floor in the foyer and did a spreadeagle.
I opened the door. “Hi, Ed. Thanks for coming so early in the morning.”
“No problem. I work when my clients need me to work.”
He reached down to pet Muffin, who had rolled over onto her back. “What’s his name?”
“It a girl and her name is Muffin.”
“Cute.”
“Do you have a dog?”
“Did, but not anymore. She died about six months ago. She was a puppy mill dog and we rescued her. My wife took it hard. I’m sure we’ll get another one, but she’s not ready yet.”
We started in the kitchen and Ed pulled out a small black notebook and jotted things down as I showed him the house.
“Beautiful place,” he said. “Are you sure you want to leave this and move downtown?”
“Guess that depends on what I can get for this and how much the downtown property will cost. But I’m ready for a change.”
He saw the antique Hoosier cabinet and sideboard in my formal dining room. “You have some beautiful antiques that would fit perfectly in the downtown property.”
“Yes, I’d definitely take those with me.”
“What about the appliances? Would they stay or go?”
“I’d take the washer and dryer and refrigerator. The rest can stay.”
“Is there anything else you aren’t planning to take?”
“The curtains can stay and I don’t plan on taking the formal living-room suite or the furniture in the guest bedroom. I could sell them with the house or arrange for them to be picked up by an auction house.”
Ed glanced around the family room. “What a great stone fireplace. This really is a beautiful home. I’ll check to see what other houses have sold for in the neighborhood and run some numbers and see what I come up with.”
“Sounds good.”
I walked Ed to the door and showed him out. I inhaled deeply and exhaled.
Now is the time to try something new. I was hoping my fortune was right!
Chapter 13
I carried the last of Tory’s boxes up the steps of the brownstone she’d rented an apartment in. Located on the Upper East Side, it was close to Central Park, Museum Mile and the Conservatory Garden.
It was only a studio, but the high ceilings made it seem more spacious. It’d been newly renovated and Tory loved the hardwood floors and modern stainless-steel appliances. Mike and I liked that it was close to the subway and in a seemingly safe part of town.
I helped Tory unpack while Mike put together the bookcases we’d bought unassembled because they were easier to transport.
“I can’t believe my baby girl is living in New York.” I hugged Tory. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“Thanks, Mom. You know you can visit anytime.”
Mike walked over to where we stood, next to the kitchen cabinets we had just filled with dishes Mom no longer wanted and had set aside for Tory.
“Hey, what about me?”
“I love you, too, Dad.” Tory hugged her father.
“I’m famished,” Mike said. “How about you girls?”
We ate dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant, which wasn’t large but was definitely cozy. It’d been family-owned since the thirties and had the vintage charm I loved. Old wooden chairs, lacey curtains and pristine white linens. We all ordered the chicken parmesan special and it was the best I’d had in a long time.
Mike twisted his fork into the mound of spaghetti on his plate. “Your mother and I lived about six blocks from where you live. We had a one-bedroom but I think your studio is bigger than the apartment we had.”
“Why’d you move?” Tory asked.
“Your mother wanted to.”
That’s right, blame it on me. Even though Mike had done quite well for himself, he’d thrown it in my face over the years that he could’ve done better if I wouldn’t have “whined about moving home.”
“You wanted to move, too,” I snapped back.
“No, I wanted to stay. You’re the one who wanted to move to be closer to your mom and dad.”
Jerk. “Did not.”
“Did, too.”
“Guys, please,” Tory said. “Can we please just have a nice dinner with no fighting?”
I glared at Mike. He always had to spoil everything.
I was glad Mike and I had driven separately. I couldn’t stand being with him another minute.
I kept myself busy over the next couple days, trying to put the approaching biopsy out of my mind. I sort of felt as if my life was on hold. I’d met with Ed and wanted to make an offer on the downtown property contingent on selling my house, but I wanted to wait to see how the biopsy turned out. I needed to make sure I was in good health before proceeding with anything.
I found that, over time, I focused more on the twenty percent of the diagnosis than the eighty percent. Mom stayed with me while Dad followed the movers to Florida. As much as she tried to conceal it, I think she was even more scared than I was.
“Are you okay?” Renee asked one night at the gym.
I shrugged. “Just have some things on my mind, why?”
“You just haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”
I took a sip from my water bottle. “To be honest, I’m dealing with a medical issue that has me a bit preoccupied.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“I hope so, too.” I explained about the biopsy and the odds the doctor had given me.
“It sounds as if you’ll be fine. But I know how you feel. I worry a lot, too. I tend to see the glass as half empty instead of half full. I’ve been trying to change that.”
“Thanks.”
“Have you looked at the photos you took before you began working out lately?” Renee asked.
I shook my head.
“You should. You’re looking good, Scarlett. I can see a difference already.”
I tapped the photos icon on my phone and swiped through the pictures we’d taken my first day. Renee was right. I did look thinner. For a few seconds I was happy, until it occurred to me I could be losing weight because I was sick. I could have cancer. Ugh!
When I got home, Mom had dinner on the table. She’d made one of my childhood favorites, macaroni and cheese.
“It’s delicious, Mom. Mine never turns out as good as yours.”
Mom patted my arm. “Nonsense! You’re a good cook.” She paused, then said, “Scarlett, I’ve been thinking about you selling this house. Are you sure that’s wise?”
I sighed. “Look, Mom. We’ve been over this. I need a fresh start.”
“You could always move to Florida with us. That’d be a fresh start.”
I smiled. “I wasn’t thinking quite that fresh. Besides, you and Dad will be busy playing cards and golfing and doing all of the other things people your age do. I’d be bored. I really love the property downtown, and you know I’ve always wanted to open my own store. And I’d love to be able to sell the vintage dishes and knick-knacks and antiques I come across at sales but don’t have room to keep myself.”
Mom pointed to my office and living room. They were filled with antiques and old items I’d picked up at auctions and yard sales over the years. From time to time, I sold items online, mostly to make room for more.
“I saw you added an old typewriter in the office. Good Lord, Scarlett, not sure what you’re going to do with that.”
“It’s old,” I said.
“Very. I remember seeing one of those in my grandmother’s attic when I was little.”
“I thought it was neat and it still works. Maybe I’ll sel
l it when I open my shop.”
Mom picked up the ladle and smothered her macaroni and cheese with the stewed tomatoes she’d made. “You know, when I was little I’d go with my mother to the corner drugstore. It was always a real treat because we’d sit on red stools at the soda fountain and share a root beer float. Mmm.” Mom mashed her lips together. “I can taste it now. Never had an ice-cream float quite like that anywhere else. That’s what you should do, Scarlett. Put an old-fashioned soda fountain in your shop.”
I stopped eating to listen to Mom, picturing the place I wanted to buy with an old-fashioned soda fountain inside. I liked what I envisioned.
“Older people, like me, would be able to reminisce and young people and kids would enjoy it, too.”
“Mom, that’s a great idea. I’ll have to think on it.”
I couldn’t get Mom’s suggestion out of my mind. Later that night, I researched online, trying to see if I could find an old-fashioned soda fountain in decent shape. I didn’t have a lot of luck. I found a lot of vintage stools, straw holders, ice-cream dishes and float glasses, but not a complete setup like I’d been looking for.
Mom took me for my biopsy and stayed in the waiting room when the nurse came to take me back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Mom asked.
“I’m sure, Mom. I’ll be fine. Just stay here and work on your cross-stitch.”
I followed the nurse back to a tiny room. She handed me a blue surgical gown that opened in the back and a pair of soft blue socks. “Change into these and I’ll be right back.”
I changed into the gown and pulled on the socks, then stuffed my clothes inside the plastic bag I’d been given. The nurse returned and started an IV in my arm. A little while later, the anesthesiologist came in, followed by Dr. Edwards. “We’re all set, Scarlett,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you.”
Dr. Edwards explained again that he’d be removing a piece of fat about the size of a ping-pong ball. “I’ll try to get all of the calcifications, but won’t disfigure you. Do you have any questions?”
“How long will it take to find out the results?”
“Normally a couple of days, but since today is Friday, we might not hear anything back until Tuesday or Wednesday.”
I’d been hoping to know the biopsy results on Monday. Ever since I’d gotten the callback for the diagnostic mammogram I’d felt as if all I’d done was wait. Wait to see the surgeon. Wait to have the biopsy. Now wait to get the biopsy results. I’d never been a very patient person, and having this hanging over my head was driving me crazy with worry. In many ways I felt my life was in park and I couldn’t put it in drive until I knew for sure where I was headed.
The last thing I remembered before waking up in recovery was counting backward. When I woke up, Mom was sitting next to me. She patted my arm. “I’m right here, Scarlett. Everything is going to be fine.”
The nurse gave me some Tylenol for pain and reviewed the discharge instructions with Mom and me. I slept most of the way home and Mom prepared an ice pack and brought it up to me while I climbed into bed. I turned the radio on and fell asleep.
I dreamt my breast was turning brown like a banana. First, spots appeared and then the blackness spread. My breast became mushy and when I squeezed my nipple pus came out. I woke up screaming and clutching my breast.
“Scarlett!” Mom said. “It’s only a dream. You were dreaming.”
I buried my face in my hands and cried. “What if I have cancer, Mom?”
She patted my back. “Oh, honey, stop it. Dr. Edwards said there’s a good chance it isn’t.”
“But what if it is?”
“If it is then we’ll deal with it.”
I realized at that very moment you never stop being a mom. Here I was, on the verge of being fifty, and I still needed my mom just as much as I had when I was five. Scratch that. I needed her more.
Tears ran down my face and Mom handed me a tissue. I blew my nose. “Thanks, Mom, for being here and taking care of me.”
Mom nodded. “There’s no place else I’d rather be. It doesn’t matter how old you become, Scarlett, you’ll always be my little girl.”
“Will you hold me, Mom, like you used to?”
Mom crawled into bed beside me and I laid my head on her chest. She brushed back my hair as she softly sang the lullaby she used to sing to me as a child. I’d never felt more loved and wanted.
Chapter 14
I took it easy the next few days. I limited my exercise to walking. I enjoyed having Mom stay with me, and I think she enjoyed taking care of me. I heard from Shonna every day and planned to call her later to wish her a happy birthday, but she called me first.
As soon as I answered the phone she blurted, “You are never going to believe what Roger got me for my birthday!”
“That blue beamer you’ve been eyeing up?”
“I wish. Guess again.”
“I know. I know. A dog!”
“A frickin’ refrigerator!”
“What?”
“I said what you heard! A damn refrigerator and it’s not even stainless steel. Cheap bastard!”
I was confused. “But why? Don’t you have a refrigerator? Actually, don’t you have two? One in your laundry room that you keep beer and soda in and one in the kitchen.”
“The one in the laundry room was making a funny fan noise so Roger thought he’d buy a new one before it tanked completely. Because you know, heaven forbid he doesn’t have a place to put his freakin’ beer. He cares more about his beer than he does about me. Just wait until the therapist hears this one!”
“Man, that sucks. I agree you have a right to be pissed. A refrigerator is a need not a want.”
“Exactly! He said it was a good idea because I’d use it, too. So guess what I did?”
Shonna didn’t wait for my response.
“I went out and got my own birthday present – a dog.”
“Uh-oh!”
“Uh-oh is right. Refrigerator my ass. Now he can put up with Max.”
“And how did Roger take that?”
“He was pissed, of course. He actually said, ‘So I guess this means you’re not going on the trip with Scarlett.’ I just laughed and said, ‘What makes you think that? Max will be just fine here with you, Mom and the kids.’ You should’ve seen his face. He thought the kids were going to stay at my mom’s house. When he learned she was coming here, I thought he’d shit his pants.”
I laughed so hard I cried. Mom came into the room to check on me and found me slapping my thigh and rocking my torso.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I couldn’t even speak but I managed to nod. My bestie had that effect on me. “Well, happy birthday, Shon. I miss you and can’t wait to see you.”
“I’m counting down the days, too.”
Shonna was coming home in a week for her family reunion and we were going to plan our road trip. I’d know what I was facing by the end of today, hopefully.
“I’m such a stupid ass,” Shonna said. “Here I am complaining about my birthday present and you’re dealing with a breast biopsy. I’m such a jerk.”
“No, you aren’t. Stop it. Life doesn’t wait for us to catch up to it. I want to hear about what’s going on in your life. The good and the bad. That’s what friends are for. And I would’ve been hurt if you hadn’t called to tell me Roger bought you an appliance for your birthday. Didn’t he buy you a weed trimmer last year?”
“Yes! And the year before that wrinkle cream. And the year before that tickets to a baseball game he wanted to see.”
I laughed. “He definitely wins the award for World’s Best Male Gift Giver.”
Shonna giggled. “I’ll have to tell him that!”
“No, no, no. Don’t bring me into it.”
“Oh, okay. But I already made up my mind that his next birthday present from me is going to be grooming equipment because he’s in need of
some serious manscaping.”
“Does Roger even know what that is?”
“No. That’s the problem.”
“I love you, you know that,” I said. “You always make me laugh.”
“Glad I’m able to accommodate you. Well, thanks for listening. And call me when you find out the results. I’ll be waiting.”
“I will. If I don’t hear anything by four, I’m going to call the office. This waiting is maddening.”
“I’m sure you’re totally stressed-out. But I’ve been getting good vibes about this. I think you’ll be okay.”
“I hope so because I have a shop to open, a road trip to take, forty more pounds to lose and the rest of my list to tackle. The last thing I want to do is disappoint my seventeen-year-old self!”
When I got off the phone with Shonna, I pulled out a tablet and wrote down what I’d tell that teenage girl I used to be.
Acne doesn’t last forever.
It’s okay to fail, as long as you learn from your failures.
Sometimes you have to lose.
Watch your speed limit on North Hills Road. You can’t afford the ticket you’ll get and your mom and dad will ban you from driving for a month!
Study for the chemistry exam instead of going skiing with your boyfriend.
Who cares about a silly pageant anyway?
Keep playing the piano.
Don’t go parking on that dark country road. The cop’ll show up and you’ll end up putting your top on backward and your mom will notice when you come home an hour past your curfew!
You’ll survive the breakup and your life won’t end.
Cherish your parents. They don’t stay forty forever!
Apologize to your dad for keeping him up pacing the kitchen floor on prom night when you fell asleep in your boyfriend’s car and didn’t come home until the morning.
Don’t worry. So much of life is out of your control.
Tell your teachers how much they inspire you.
Mom and Dad really do know what they’re talking about.
Be a better daughter, sister and friend.
Keep the bucket list you and Shonna wrote on napkins some place safe so you can pull it out and look at it from time to time. Never lose sight of your dreams!
A Year of Second Chances Page 9
