by Gail Cleare
“I sure hope so,” said Bella, “’Cause those black crawly eyelashes look kind of itchy.”
“Somehow I doubt that she’s afraid to look natural,” I said. “Let’s give Oprah the benefit of the doubt.”
“Yeah, she knew about ‘The Secret,’ so she must know about this basic girl stuff, right ladies?” said Bella.
We all agreed that Oprah obviously knew a lot of secrets, and a lot of girl stuff, probably more than we did, in fact. Then Laurie headed back across the intersection, and the rest of us went to close up the shop for another night, and go home to our families.
Henry and I had an interesting conversation one day not long afterwards. We were sitting at the table together upstairs, going over the year-end financial reports, which were due to be filed soon. We were operating very nicely in the black, so Henry had decided to put some money into remodeling the back of the building, where the old porch was sagging and needed repair. Laurie had suggested we tear off the porch, blow out the back wall of the showroom and move the seating area behind the coffee bar, lightening the room with a bank of windows and putting in some nice landscaping outside, maybe even a little patio. I loved the idea, and wanted to add an herb and salad garden, so we could grow some of our own fresh organic ingredients.
“It’s better to invest the profits in the building than pay it in income tax,” I advised Henry, sounding like I knew what I was talking about. “It will increase the value of your business and your real estate.”
“Yes, and I’m already getting a nice tax credit for going solar,” Henry said thoughtfully. “But that isn’t what really appeals to me about the idea, first and foremost.”
“Well, what does then?”
“I think if we are smart, we could add a small gallery space, too.”
“An art gallery?” I was very interested.
“What do you think?”
“I think I should call Lexi and get her over here to take a look!”
“Very good!” Henry said, getting excited. “I can see it now! A little passive solar greenhouse! Sculpture in the garden! Wind chimes! Lawn art!”
“It’s a wonderful idea,” I said, “I’ll get on it right away!”
“I’ll do some research on the Internet,” Henry said contentedly.
Plans proceeded and we had some drawings made of the proposed construction. Lexi came over to look at them with me. We walked around outside behind the building and considered the available space. There was a scraggly little grass lawn on the Crescent Street side of the building that could be turned into a nice patio. Lexi said she had a great connection for stonework. We came inside for an espresso and I spread the blueprints out on the coffee bar.
“You know, Emily,” Lexi said slowly, “I’m thinking about moving the gallery.”
“You mean, to Boston?”
“Yes. I’ve been looking for a good location.”
“Are you selling your house?”
“No, I love my house, and we love it here. We’ll come out on weekends,” she smiled. “Maybe we’ll even move back some day.”
“I’ll miss you!” I said, surprised to find that it was true.
“Well, I was thinking, Em. I wouldn’t mind maintaining a presence out here, especially to continue showing my local artists. What if you and Henry sublet the new space to Gladstone Gallery, and you can staff it for me? I’ll pay you a commission on anything you sell.”
It was a terrific offer, and I knew it.
“Wow, Lex, I’m flattered that you would suggest it!”
“You need to think about it, I know,” she said uneasily, taking in the stunned expression on my face.
“Well, not really, in a way.”
“No?”
“No, I just don’t think it would work for us,” I said.
“Oh,” she said coldly, “OK.” She was not happy with me, and turned away.
“I mean, Henry already has a whole bunch of ideas of what he wants to do with the space. He’s very into it,” I said earnestly, grabbing her by the arm. “I know he would never consider subletting. But he does want to show any local artists who you think are interesting. What if we compromise?”
“Well, what do you mean?” she said hopefully, turning back toward me.
“What if you give us just a certain number of pieces to show every month, your choice, and we sell them on commission like you were suggesting? We collaborate on marketing? Share the cost of any mailings or ads?”
“Done,” she said with a broad smile, shaking my hand, and then we hugged.
What a change from the old days, I thought. No temper tantrums, no shouting, no Lexi looking daggers at me and hinting that my intelligence level was below par. She had certainly changed. Or, had she? Maybe it was I who had changed. That was a thought. All the details of my life were certainly different. What about my personality?
I decided that while I hadn’t been watching, something must have happened to me. My whole outlook was different, and the way I responded to things. I used to be so on edge with Lexi that I took offense at the least little thing. Now, I felt I could dismiss anything negative she said with ease, and turn her around, make her happy. I felt that I was valuable to her, and it made me more secure. I was more secure in general, actually. And that enabled me to be more generous and outgoing toward the other people in my life. Which made them respond to me in a positive way, which made me more secure still. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was an endless loop of positive reinforcement, the snake eating its own tail, the phoenix born again from its own ashes to soar and burn again, and then again.
Another example, I thought, of how we write the future with choices we make now, and how everything that happens in our lives really is within our sphere of influence, to some degree. Some people are upset when you suggest they may have written the script of their life stories themselves. They have troubles, and sometimes, terrible things happen, and they don’t want to feel responsible for creating them. Or they want it to all be up to God, or Fate, or some other Higher Power. They think mere humans don’t have the ability to change things like that. But I could prove it. I had changed myself, and by doing so, I had changed Lexi too, and I had completely changed the future of our relationship. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I could see it clearly now.
When I was lying in bed next to Tony that night, listening to his slow, relaxed breathing, I started to think about all of this again. Would I even be here, with this man tonight, if I hadn’t been able to stop something that happened to me ten years ago from continuing to write my story today? I had been headed straight for another crash and burn relationship, that night I had dinner with Laurie in the garden. I was ready to run away again. But I was able to stop my typical scenario from reoccurring. That meant, while the things we do today will definitely affect tomorrow, we do have the power to choose differently and step onto another branch of the path at the crossroads.
We have to come to terms with the past in order to change the direction we are heading. The good times and the bad times both offer us a choice, since we can control how we view them, how we react.
We can be daunted, or we can be challenged. We can be discouraged, or we can be inspired. I could fill myself with the qualities I most admire and celebrate my life, and if I wanted to live happily ever after, I could simply choose that reality and start living it right now.
And so, I did. And the time passed joyfully, with my glass more than half full. In fact, it overflowed with thankfulness and appreciation for the wonderful days and nights we were given, the great gift of this life together on our beautiful, verdant Earth.
The World
FULFILLMENT, SUCCESS
Description: A beautiful man/woman dances inside a wreath of laurel leaves, the sign of triumph. Angels or animals symbolic of the four elements of earth, air, fire and water surround her.
Meaning: Fulfillment, victory, transformation. The end of one complete cycle. The achievement of a progressed atti
tude and an evolved spirit.
In the tender season, the very early spring when red buds swell on the tips of branches and flocks of little birds chase clouds of little flies across the sky, I began to sprout new ideas like the seedlings that erupted from the newly thawed earth that quickened all around us.
It was mud season and the floors were filthy all the time, no matter how often we mopped. The girls agreed that it was best to dress in layers so we could shed them as the day progressed, warming up to sixty-five most afternoons now. There was still some snow around, though, in dirty black-speckled mounds near the parking meters and around the edges of parking lots. The ground hog from Pennsylvania did not see his shadow, and spring was due immediately. Siri was swelling up like a beautiful, sexy balloon and the rest of us were expectant vicariously through her.
Then St. Patrick’s Day brought a huge Nor’easter, classic New England style, and we were buried under eighteen inches of snow. I decided to warm things up by having Ladies’ Night at our house. Despite the icy roads and piles of snow, both drifted and pushed into mountains by snowplows, all of the girls actually came.
New Englanders are hardy souls, whether we come from here originally or not. In fact, none of us came from here originally except Bella, whose parents still lived in the nearby city of Springfield, where she was born and raised. But now, like the native Yankees, we had all come to calmly accept the winter weather, and in truth we really kind of enjoyed it, the beauty and excitement of it. We forged out bravely on snowy nights under white-out conditions in our four-wheel drive vehicles or stoically on booted foot, and we went where we had to go. We were strong and invincible. Once we got there, we partied our brains out.
Tony went out that night, on my advice. He and Tom set out on foot to enjoy the St. Patty’s Day green beer served at all the bars in the center of town. Gupta and Henry got to stay home and babysit, falling asleep in their comfortable chairs soon after the children went to bed. The girls took over the house by the park, and we were all wired for a wild time.
Laurie put some CD’s on Tony’s pet sound system, which by now had insinuated itself into nearly every room in the house. We started with an energetic freeform dance to some music Alyssia had brought, sort of a cross between synthetic computer music and some kind of ethnic, tribal music. It was fabulous. We spread out all over the downstairs and threw ourselves into it. Then we all gathered around the granite island in the kitchen and drank Tony’s Veuve Cliquot. Siri drank ice water.
“Love it, love it, love it,” said Laurie, pointing at the granite island, the six-burner stove and the stainless steel SubZero refrigerator.
“Yes, this place is great, honey!” said Alyssia. “Now, what did you have to do to deserve all this?” She pretended to look at me suspiciously, one eyebrow raised.
“Just lucky, I guess,” I said innocently.
“Are you kidding?” said Bella. “They’ve probably done it in every room of this house, and all over Henry’s place too!”
“Well,” I said, “Not quite all over Henry’s place. Only on two floors, in fact.”
“That’s good, honey,” Alyssia said, patting my hand. “A little restraint is good for the soul.”
“So what’s new with you, anyhow?” I asked her.
“My son is being recruited by the military, or so they think.”
“Rashid? How old is he?” asked Siri.
“He’ll be eighteen this summer, and they’re already trying to convince him to sign up for the Army!” Alyssia said sadly, shaking her head in disbelief.
“But, won’t they send him to Iraq?” Mindy asked.
“You bet your sweet bippy, they will,” said Bella.
“They are wooing him with promises of a free college education,” Alyssia said.
“But, at what real cost?” said Siri quietly, unconsciously cradling her hugely swollen belly with one arm. She was due in just a few weeks now.
“Bush is trying to get approval for the money to send a bunch more troops over there, did you hear that?” asked Mei.
“Yeah, he said he didn’t need permission from Congress to send them. Can you believe that? How arrogant!” said Laurie.
“So, what do you think of Hillary?” I asked.
“I LOVE Hillary!” said Bella. “That is one smart woman! She didn’t just dump her husband and slink off when he screwed around on her, she worked a deal with the Democrats that’s gonna land her right back in the White House!”
We all agreed that we admired Hillary, for various reasons. I said I wasn’t sure that she could get elected, though. A lot of people seemed to be annoyed by her. In a way, she was too well known. It would be harder to paint her as a noble, innocent crusader, which is what we Americans love to elect. No shop-worn merchandise for us, we like our new presidents bandbox fresh and spanking clean.
Alyssia said, “Who would you choose, ladies? A menopausal white woman or a hot young black man? To run against a middle-aged white man on the GOP side, no doubt?”
“That’s a hard decision,” said Mei. “But I think maybe the black man would have a better chance.”
“Well, Tony’s parents think our current president is a megalomaniac,” I said. “They said he is very unpopular in Europe.”
“It’s too bad your buddy Al isn’t in the White House,” Bella said sadly.
“Yes, things would be so different now, wouldn’t they?” said Mindy.
“I doubt we would still be in Iraq,” I said, “And we’d be doing a lot more about the climate crisis, that’s for sure.”
“Did you hear that in Australia, regular incandescent light bulbs are illegal now?” Mindy asked.
Then we all burst forth and started talking at approximately the same time:
“Yes! The whole country is going to use those funny spiral-shaped ones now!”
“I don’t like those, do you?”
“They’re weird!”
“Yeah, they make a funny color light.”
“Yes, but they use much less energy, so it’s worth it.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“We can all make some sacrifices, right?”
“It’s a small thing to do, when you think about it.”
“You’re right.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna get some.”
“They’re really expensive, though.”
“You can get a deal on a big package of them!”
“They have them at Costco!”
“So, Emily? What kind of light bulbs do you use?”
“Are you kidding? Tony is obsessed with alternative energy! You think he would allow an incandescent bulb inside this house?”
“When are the solar panels coming?”
“They said in the spring, but I think it needs to stop snowing before they’ll schedule it,” I said, squinting out the foggy kitchen windows at the blizzard conditions. “Wow, it’s really coming down now.”
We all gathered in the breakfast nook and looked out at the snow, which was fine and icy. It was pale and otherworldly outside. Across the street from our house in front of the park was a lonely street lamp that barely glowed, a small dim pinkish oblate blur. All the details of the landscape were obscured, disguised by white in the air and white on the ground, flattened by a lack of gradation that erased form and eliminated depth perception. Off in the park, I could almost see the translucent outline of a swing set. Icy little grains of snow suddenly tapped on the kitchen windows in a shower of crystals, swept up against the house by the wind. It was bleak, but absolutely magnificent, and we were all safe and warm inside together, with walls of glass to protect us from the weather.
“Tony says that in Beijing, the Chinese are dumping so much pollution into the atmosphere every day that the sky is always thick with soupy smog,” I said. “He said when you go inside at night, your clothes are covered with black, greasy soot.”
“Yes, they are adding thirty thousand new cars there every month,” said Mei. “People are so excited to finally
get this kind of technology, they are going a little crazy.”
We silently watched the white, white, pristine snow falling for a moment. Everyone kept her thoughts private, but I had a feeling we were all hoping, praying, each in her own way. Then Latin Lounge came on the CD player, and Bella shot me an inquiring look, and an impish grin. Within seconds, we were all tangoing across the kitchen floor toward the long, open corridor that ran from the front door to the rooms at the back of the house. Siri had a little trouble until Alyssia partnered her from behind, so the baby wasn’t between them. Bella and I were actually getting pretty good at this. We had learned how to snap around and reverse at the end of the hallway. Then it was over, and everyone headed back to the kitchen to devour the snacks.
When Tony came home a little later, stamping his feet in the portico outside the kitchen door to shake off the snow that coated his pants all the way up past the knee, the girls all gathered their things and put on their gear to brave the blizzard. Laurie had driven Siri and some of the others in her van, and Mindy had her car too. They went off gaily into the night, sisters of the storm, warrior queens undaunted by the perils of nature.
We were happy to see snow in New England, when it very well might be no more than a distant memory here some day soon. We all knew that when the baby in Siri’s belly was old enough to vote, she would be calling us to account for her options.
* * *
The baby came, right on schedule, and Siri named her Hope, after Tom’s grandmother. It seemed like the right choice. She was what we all needed, and everyone started to spoil her from the day she was born. We were all completely nuts about her. Including Henry and Gupta, who brought her into the office with them in her cradle every afternoon while Siri worked in the shop. Occasionally we would hear her hoarse little goat-like cry come echoing down the front stairs, then the sound of two grown men singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” in sprightly tones. Siri would check her breasts, then run upstairs to nurse the baby, and be back in a few minutes. Gupta said he didn’t even mind changing Hope’s diaper, so Henry generously allowed his friend to be in charge of that.
