The last hour had been an emotional roller coaster, eating a meal with my father who just months earlier I had seen on the street and not even known, and now seeing him so close up, hearing him speak about his family and his life’s work, but it was one that had ended happily, with promises to stay connected and become a part of each other’s lives, and his promise to start supporting me financially.
During our conversation he’d told me a little about his career, including a landmark case in which he and his partner won a class action suit against a huge real estate company for racial discrimination in their rental application process. After that he and his partner had established themselves as the lawyers who took on corporations in the interest of working-class citizens, and they always won. “I’m pretty much set for life,” he’d said. “And I know that I owe you and your mom, a lot.” Although we didn’t talk specifics, I immediately imagined having my East Point tuition paid off, relinquishing my cleaning scholarship, and returning to gardening in the spring.
“I’m so happy to see you this happy,” said my mom, turning from Smith Road to Marsh Street, nearing our house. “You deserve this.” From the sound of it, she and Greg had already discussed some of what he’d told me during lunch.
“You deserve it too,” I said. “You know, Mom, you’ve done a really good job of providing for me all these years, mostly by yourself. I mean, I know we lived with Grandma and Grandpa for a few years when I was little, but you had to work really hard to get us our own place and make sure I had access to a good education. So, thank you.”
I looked at my mom as she reached over to stroke my hair. “You’re welcome, Sweetheart,” she said. I remembered being little, and her calling me Sweetheart so often that it could have been my name. She still used the term for me, once in a while, and it always brought me comfort. “Thank you for being such an easy kid to take care of.”
“So, you feel ok with Greg being involved again?” I asked as she pulled the car into our driveway.
“I do.” She turned off the ignition and placed her hand on my shoulder. “I know this isn’t something he takes likely. He wouldn’t have reached out if having a relationship with you wasn’t something he really valued.” I nodded, trusting her instincts, and trusting my own instincts to rely on Greg.
After we went inside, I went into my room and threw myself onto my bed. I grabbed my phone from my black shoulder bag and started to call Sean but stopped myself. I knew he would be excited to hear the news about my dad, but for some reason I didn’t feel ready to share it. Perhaps I just needed more time to process it, to get a handle on my emotions before attempting to explain them to anyone else. I put my phone down on my bed and instead opened up my notebook, which had been sitting on my nightstand. Maybe journaling about all that had happened over the last day would provide some mental clarity. I just met my dad for the first time since I was a baby, I wrote. I couldn’t believe it when my mom told me that he wanted to see me, that it was something she had agreed to. I was even more shocked to find out that I’d already seen him, just randomly, out on the street one night, the first time I hung out with Sean. It’s hard to describe what it feels like right now. It’s a little like I’m jumping into the ocean, exploring the coral reef and seeing all the amazing colors and creatures, but knowing that there could be sharks lurking nearby.
That was when I got a call from Ms. Rose.
“Darcy?” She said after I answered my phone. I knew her voice right away.
“Ms. Rose?” I asked, confused as to why my English teacher would call me over winter break. Had my essay been that bad?
“Yes, it’s me. I normally wouldn’t call a student over break like this, but I have some important news. Is this a good time?”
“Yes, it’s a great time,” I said. I had no idea whether the news was bad or good, but I hoped conveying positivity would increase the chances of good.
“Great! So, I just wanted to let you know that I really liked your essay, and it got me thinking that maybe we could find a way to allow you to keep gardening and working with kids without giving up your scholarship.”
“Oh,” I said, a bit baffled at how such a situation could be arranged.
“I let Mrs. Masterson read your essay, which I hope you don’t mind, and explained to her how great you were with the kids and how much you’d learned, and she was really impressed with the whole gardening program concept and how much the younger kids benefited from it. So, we discussed it for a while and came up with a plan.”
“OK!” I said, springing up from a mostly horizontal position. I listened attentively as Ms. Rose described her conversation with Mrs. Masterson regarding my scholarship. Apparently, Mrs. Masterson had wanted to create some sort of outreach program for a while. Like Ms. Rose, she recognized the privilege of the East Point Prep students, and thought everyone could benefit from sharing the school’s resources with the community surrounding it. So, Ms. Rose and Mrs. Masterson crafted a plan to start East Point’s own urban gardening program that would serve elementary students from the nearby public school, which had demographics similar to that of Taft Elementary. There was plenty of space on the school grounds for a garden, and a small fund set aside for landscaping that could be used to get the garden started. “Here’s where you come in,” said Ms. Rose. “Instead of staying after school to clean every day, you’ll stay after school to work in the garden and help the children who come from Mt. Washington Elementary. We’ll recruit another student to help, but you’ll be the one leading the program. You’ll also have the Mt. Washington After School Coordinator there, so you won’t be left without an adult to help manage the children. And since there won’t be any gardening during the winter months, you’ll use that time to plan and raise money for the upcoming gardening season. How does all this sound to you?”
I sat back down on my bed, feeling speechless, as if the wind had been knocked out of me, although I hadn’t fallen or moved much at all. “Darcy, are you still there?” asked Ms. Rose.
“Yes!” I shouted, finally. “Sorry, I was frozen there for a minute. I’m just so surprised, but I love the idea. I think it’s amazing! Do you really think I can do it, though? I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“Darcy, I believe in you,” said Ms. Rose. “And you’re not alone in this. I know I’m no gardening expert, but I’ll do whatever I can to help. In fact, I’m going to make myself the official staff supervisor on this project. Luckily my friend Mr. Brooks will have plenty of advice for me.”
“That’s a relief,” I said with a sigh. I knew that with Ms. Rose’s help, my new duties would be far less daunting. “I’m going to start planning right away. I’ll make a list of all the supplies we’ll need, find out what it’s going to cost to get started, and then come up with ideas for raising money.”
“That’s great. We’ll touch base again after New Year’s, ok?”
“Ok,” I said, sensing that the phone call was winding down. “Ms. Rose?”
“Yes, Darcy?”
“Thank you so much for doing this. I mean, you’ve really gone out of your way to help me this year, and it’s made such a big difference for me.”
“You’re welcome, Darcy. I’m happy to do it. Truly.”
We both said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. “Was that Ms. Rose on the phone,” said my mom, poking her head into my room. “I wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally. I was just putting some groceries away in the kitchen and couldn’t help overhearing a little.”
“It’s ok, Mom, and yes, it was Ms. Rose. As it turns out, I don’t need Greg to pay my tuition. The terms of my scholarship are changing, so I’m going to keep gardening and working with kids, right at East Point Prep.”
My mom ran to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Darcy, that’s wonderful news.”
For a moment we sat there, just holding each other, sharing in the mutual feelings of relief and happiness the day’s events had produced. “Thank you for sending me to East Point, Mom
. I haven’t always liked it, but I finally feel like it’s where I belong.”
“They’re lucky to have you there.” She squeezed me tight before getting up and walking toward the door. “Let’s go out to celebrate tonight. Do you want to invite Sean and Paige? Tell them it’s my treat.”
“I’m texting them now,” I said. While I had been hesitant to let them know about the meeting with my father, I couldn’t wait to share my news from Ms. Rose. It certainly didn’t trump the news about Greg, but rather it accompanied it, like the finale at the end of a fireworks show. It was the news I had unknowingly been waiting for, the news that promoted me from Darcy the Cleaner to Darcy the Gardener, Darcy the Mentor and Darcy the Leader. I just hoped I was ready to take it all on.
Chapter 19
Christmas of that year will definitely go down as one of the most memorable. My mom invited Greg over for dinner on Christmas Eve. At first, I wondered if it would feel uncomfortable to see my parents together for the first time in my life, but the two of them were surprisingly natural, like a couple who’d been married for years and knew exactly what to expect from one another. Greg complimented my mom, telling her that she looked, nice with just the right amount of casualness, and she thanked him and rubbed his arm for just the right amount of time. Had my mom been waiting her whole adult life for this moment? Was this the reason she had remained single for so long? I didn’t know, but I did know she looked happier and that she moved about with more ease, as if some sort of weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
For dinner, my mom made a pot roast, and Greg brought over two long baguettes, a pecan pie and a bottle of red wine that he shared with my mom. After dinner I excused myself, saying I needed to finish wrapping presents in my bedroom, but I really just wanted to the give the two of them some alone time to discuss the status of their relationship, or whatever else adults with complicated pasts might need to talk about. I came out a little while later with a gift I had bought for Greg just the day before, a copy of Furious Hours by Casey Cep. I had gone out on a limb, thinking it was something he would like given his legal background and the seemingly universal interest in anything connected to Harper Lee. “I’ve heard of this,” he said, once he’d taken off the wrapping paper. “It sounds fascinating. I can’t wait to start it. Thank you, Darcy.”
He also had brought gifts for my mom and me. For my mom he got an elegant, black knee-length coat. She tried it on and twirled around in it, reveling in how perfectly it fit. For me he bought some brightly colored bohemian cloth bracelets. “Wow. I don’t usually wear bracelets, but these are beautiful,” I said, sliding them onto my wrist.
“The proceeds go to a nonprofit that supports women entrepreneurs in developing countries, which I thought you might appreciate,” he said.
My mom’s gift to Greg was the most personal. She’d gathered a bunch of photos of me spanning from the time I was a toddler until that very year and put them in a nice, leather photo album. Both of my parents got choked up while flipping through it, as she explained the significance of each photo to him, where it was taken and what we were doing. I watched them look at the photos, feeling a sense of deep satisfaction, or maybe reverence, as tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away at first, but then after a moment just let them fall. I didn’t know if I was crying over a sense of sadness that he had missed out on all of those moments, my first ice cream cone, my third birthday, my first day of Kindergarten, or if I was crying out of happiness that he was finally seeing them all, but I knew I was happy to be with him then, to start to understand what I felt like to have a dad.
Christmas Day was sixty degrees and sunny. Sean came to my house around lunch-time so we could exchange gifts. “Open mine first,” I said as we sat down in the living room. He took the box that I’d wrapped in blue paper with silver snowflakes and ripped into the wrapping. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what was in the box. “These are the best pencils you can get,” he said. “These are perfect, just what I need. I hope you didn’t spend all your money on them, though. I know they aren’t cheap.”
I shrugged, feeling a satisfied smile spread across my face. “I made pretty good money from my babysitting jobs.”
“Well, my gift to you is very apropos, I think,” said Sean, handing me a large gift bag with tissue paper popping out.
“It’s heavy,” I said, grabbing a hold of the handle. I set down the bag and pulled out a framed picture. It was a drawing that he’d done of me, one that I hadn’t seen before. In this one I appeared to be brushing loose strands of hair out of my eyes while most of it was pulled back into a loose bun. My facial expression was sultry, one I would probably try to use if I were walking a runway, but didn’t think I’d ever actually pull off. “This is beautiful, Sean. I love it! Do I ever really look like that?”
“Yeah, sometimes. When I close my eyes and imagine your face, that’s how I see you.”
“It’s incredible. You’re incredible. Thank you.” I leaned into him and put my arms around his neck. He looked back at me with a comforting smile. I studied his face for a moment, wanting to make sure I could always think of him this way when closing my eyes. We kissed briefly before my mom came in with a tray of mugs filled with hot chocolate and a plate of decorated sugar cookies that we’d made the day before.
“Thank you, Ms. Walsh,” said Sean, picking up one of the mugs.
“It’s almost too warm outside for hot chocolate,” I said.
“I know,” said my mom with a sigh. “But we mustn’t break from Christmas tradition.”
We all sat and drank our hot chocolate and ate cookies in the living room. Then my mom got up to finish baking the pie she was bringing to my grandparents’ house that evening while Sean and I took a walk around the block, soaking up the rays instead of trudging through the snow. We held hands and talked about preparations I would need to make for the new East Point garden in the spring. I would need to order lumber if I planned to make raised beds, which was what I’d envisioned. “I’ve never actually built anything from wood before. Do you think I can do it?” I asked.
“Of course. And me and Tyler can help too. Ty’s dad is a pretty good carpenter, so he knows a lot.”
“Tell him I’ll buy him all the chicken tikka masala he can eat if he helps me. Seriously, it would be tremendous if he could do it.”
“Trust me, he won’t want to miss out on showing off his muscles to all the girls at your school. All you have to say is girls and he’s there. But I’ll take the tikka masala.”
“I’ll treat you both. I may just need to pick up a couple more babysitting jobs.”
Sean put his arm around me, pulling me in toward him as we walked past the house with the giant, inflatable Santa Claus. “You know, as much as I’m going to miss being with you at Taft, I think it’s really cool that your principal is starting this program. I can already tell how much happier you are.”
“Yeah, I do feel pretty happy right now. And none of this would be happening without you, Sean.”
Sean chuckled. “I mean, I know I am pretty great, but I don’t think I can take credit for this, Darcy.”
“You taught me so much at Taft. I wouldn’t have a clue how to do this if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, I think you’d have figured it out on your own, but I’m still glad I got to help you out.”
After our walk Sean went back to his house for his annual family Christmas gathering and I changed into a fuzzy cream sweater and black jeans in preparation for dinner at my grandparents’ house. I found a hammer and a nail from the drawer in the kitchen and hung Sean’s drawing above the dresser in my room. It felt strange to display a portrait of myself so prominently, but it was beautiful and it was a gift from Sean and he’s the one it really reminded me of anyway. How had I gotten so lucky over the last couple of months?
On New Year’s Eve Paige came over to my house with an armload of dresses for each of us to try on. Like a celebrity or famous socialite, she’d
bought a new dress for every special event or party she’d attended over the last two years, as did her mom, who handed her dresses down to Paige after wearing them once. “Didn’t you wear this to homecoming last year?” I asked, holding up a shimmery black one. It had a row of fringe along the front, like a 1920s flapper dress.
“Oh yeah. I love that dress. You should totally wear it tonight. I think I’m wearing this.” She said, holding up a champagne-colored slip dress.
“Wow,” I said.
“I know, right? My mom has pretty good taste. And she still has the body of a twenty-year-old.”
After we were both dressed. we walked out into the living room, where my mom was sitting with her copy of Big Little Lies. “You girls look incredible.” She let out a loud sigh. “Oh, how fun it is to be young. I’m glad you’re both enjoying it.”
“Did you make any plans for tonight, Mom?”
“Actually, Greg is coming over in a little while,” she said. Paige and I glanced at each other, both raising our eyebrows. “It’s no big deal. We’re just going to watch a movie or something.”
“Netflix and chill,” mumbled Paige.
“Ew,” I said, under my breath, giving her a disdainful look. I walked to my mom to hug her goodbye. “I’m glad he’s coming over. I wouldn’t want you to be alone on New Year’s.”
She kissed my cheek. “Have fun, and be careful, you two.”
Paige and I walked outside and got into her car. The days had been warm but the nights were still cold, and we shivered in our thin cardigans that were covering the tops of our sleeveless dresses. “Maybe we should have worn coats,” I said.
“The heat will kick on after a minute,” said Paige, starting her car and turning on the headlights. “Ok, now tell me where I’m going.”
I directed her to Sean’s house, taking the most direct route. Right onto Edwards Road, past the shopping center, left on Wasson and right on Paxton. When we neared Sean’s house, we could see cars along the curb stretching all the way down toward the end of the street. We found a spot several houses away from his, and practically ran in our heels to get out of the cold.
Darcy, Defined Page 18
