She sipped her now lukewarm tea. Fourteen years later . . . here they were—Josie still acting like an adolescent while her teenaged son was on the cusp of responsible adulthood.
ten
George’s last day of school went much as expected. Teachers were harried and distracted. Meanwhile the students were literally climbing the walls. Leo Brandt fell while scaling a column in the courtyard and after being transported by paramedics, the staff later learned he’d suffered a broken collarbone. By the end of the day George was so fatigued that he actually welcomed the onset of his “retirement.”
As he walked home, his steps felt sluggish. All he really wanted was a nice, long nap. Perhaps he would skip tonight’s graduation ceremony after all. The idea of another evening in a hot, stuffy, noisy gymnasium had no appeal. Because he’d promised Willow, he would still attend Collin’s party afterwards, but perhaps he would make an excuse to depart early. He could blame it on last-day-of-school weariness.
As George walked through town, he pondered what he might give Collin for graduation. What did teenagers like these days—well, besides those addictive electronic gadgets? Of course, Collin was not a typical teenager. The young man had good sensibilities. George paused outside the Book Nook. He hadn’t been in there in years but had always liked the cozy little shop. And as he pushed open the door, he immediately felt welcomed by the jingling of the bell and the dusty aroma of books. They carried both used and new books here and, unlike other bookstores, the Book Nook had not succumbed to the pressure of hawking cheap trinkets for impulse buying. Nor had they added an espresso bar.
“Can I help you?” a middle-aged woman asked.
“I’m not sure.” He rubbed his chin. “I think I’m looking for an Emerson book.”
“Ralph Waldo Emerson?”
“Yes. But I don’t want a paperback or even a new hardback edition if I can avoid it. I’d prefer an older copy. Not one that’s terribly old or dear, but something that feels substantial. It’s for a graduation gift.”
“We just got in some lovely used books this week. And I believe there were a couple of Emerson titles in the bunch.” She led him to a section in back, pointing to a shelf. “Here you go.”
George eagerly reached for Emerson’s Essays: First Series. “This looks perfect.” He carefully opened it, checking its spine and page condition. He paused to scan the list of essays, which he almost knew by heart. “‘Self-Reliance’ is in here,” he told the woman. “One of my favorites.”
“I haven’t read it,” she admitted. “But self-reliance sounds like a good topic for a graduate.”
He nodded as he turned it over to see the price. Although it wasn’t cheap, he felt it was worth it. Collin was the kind of young man to appreciate something like this. “I’ll take this.”
“Would you like me to wrap it for you?” she asked at the register.
“Yes, that’d be nice.”
“Do you want to inscribe it first?”
He considered this. “No, no, I don’t think so. I suppose I’m old school. I’ve never liked writing in books. Especially a collectible one like this.”
“Would you like a gift card—they’re free with purchase.” She pointed to a nearby rack of small cards. And while she wrapped the package, he neatly penned an Emerson quote inside the card. It was from “Self-Reliance”—a line that he’d memorized in college, and which sounded well suited for Collin.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. Ralph Waldo Emerson
He still liked the ring of those words . . . and yet, as he slid the little card into the little envelope, he felt the jab of hypocrisy. Had his years of careful living turned him into a “little mind”? And if so, what could he do about it?
Although Willow was determined to remain patient in dealing with her prodigal daughter, it was a growing challenge. Not only had Josie and Garth attempted to turn Willow’s terrace into their personal smoking lounge, they’d left trash and personal items strewn about. Willow had reminded Josie that she would be busy getting things ready for Collin’s graduation party, hoping that even if Josie didn’t want to help, she might at least not turn the party area into a garbage dump.
“What are you making?” Josie paused in Willow’s kitchen.
“Caprese skewers,” Willow said. “Just grape tomatoes, fresh basil, and a chunk of fresh mozzarella. You layer them like this on a skewer and—”
“Great.” Josie reached for a handful of the skewers that Willow had just made. “Garth loves caprese salad.”
“Would you like to help make some?” Willow asked.
“No, you look like you have it under control.” Josie opened the fridge. “Mind if I grab a couple of sodas to go with this?”
“No. Maybe you’d like to load some into the cooler by the door and take it out to the terrace with you.”
“That’s okay. This will be fine for now.”
“I meant for the party,” Willow said a bit tersely.
“But that’s not until after graduation. Why bother with it now?”
“Because we’ll be leaving for the ceremony in about twenty minutes,” Willow explained. “I’d hoped to have things mostly set up and ready for when we get home.”
“It’s not like you’re having a lot of people here.” Josie was still foraging in the fridge. Apparently the pizza that Willow had ordered for them an hour ago hadn’t cut it. Willow bit her tongue as she watched Josie helping herself from the appetizer trays that Willow had carefully put together earlier. “You told me it’s gonna be like a dozen people. Looks like you’re going to way too much trouble.”
“I’m doing this for Collin,” Willow said. “He’s worked so hard in school. He never even complained about moving up here last year. And he’s taken lots of AP classes and maintained an outstanding GPA. I just want to celebrate that—”
“Oh, I get it.” Josie slammed the fridge door closed. “Like, hint-hint, Josie. You were such an academic flop. Such a disappointment.”
“I’ve never said that.” Willow set her knife down with a bang. “Not once.”
“You don’t have to, Mom. It’s written all over your face. You think I’m a loser. Admit it.”
“I’m sorry if that’s your perception, Josie. I, of all people, am aware of the challenges you’ve faced. Your life hasn’t been easy. And I take the blame for some of that and want you to know that—”
“You should take the blame!” Josie grabbed a bag of unopened chips then stormed back out to the terrace where Garth was waiting.
Willow blew out a long sigh. All she wanted to know right now was, how long did they plan to stay? So far Josie had barely said anything to her son. Although to be fair, Collin had kept a very low profile on the home front. After senior skip day ended, he’d texted Willow that he was taking a long nap. Then, just a few minutes ago, he’d sent another text, informing her he was walking to school for the pre-graduation meeting. But his message was clear—he wanted to avoid his mother.
It was equally clear that Josie was not here to support her son. Worse than that, it almost felt like she wanted to sabotage this evening’s festivities. Or maybe Willow was just imagining things. It was no secret that Josie came with baggage . . . and Willow was well aware that hurt people hurt people. But she hoped and prayed that Josie wouldn’t hurt Collin tonight of all nights.
Willow thought back to the conversation she’d had with Garth earlier. Unlike Josie, who’d slept in until noon, Garth had actually joined Willow on the terrace for coffee rather early this morning. They hadn’t talked of anything terribly specific or important, but Willow got the feeling that Garth had a good sense of empathy. She also got the impression that he was losing patience with Josie too. Perhaps he could help to keep Josie in line this evening. As if that were possible. Willow checked the clock to see that it would soon be time to head over to the school. She was already dressed in a long paisley broomstick skirt and a lacy
peasant top. Of course, this had invited Josie’s criticism. “Still dressing like a boho gypsy?” she’d teased. “I thought you were too old for that.”
Willow set the last of the appetizers in the fridge, removed her apron, and, with trash bag in hand, went out to do some last-minute damage control on the terrace. “Are you guys about ready to go?” Willow paused as she emptied the ashtray.
“Isn’t it too soon?” Josie asked.
“I’d like a good seat.” Willow picked up the crushed pizza box and several empty beer cans from the six-pack that Josie had brought in earlier. “I’d like to leave in about ten minutes, honey. In case you need time to freshen up or anything.” This was a real hint, since Josie was still wearing the same grubby jeans and stained rocker T-shirt that she’d had on yesterday. Her long, dark hair looked greasy and matted and she had smudges of eyeliner beneath her eyes. Not that Willow planned to mention any of this. She was determined to avoid confrontation—at all cost.
Garth finished the last of his soda, handing the can over to Willow. “I think I’m gonna take a pass on the graduation thing. I don’t really know Collin and—”
“If I’m going, you’re going,” Josie shouted at him.
“Why?” He frowned at her. “He’s your son.”
“That’s why we came here, Garth, to go to my son’s graduation.”
“That’s not why I came here,” he declared.
“I’ll let you two sort this out,” Willow said nervously. “I want to freshen up a little, and then I plan to head out. If you don’t go with me, maybe we can meet up there.” She could hear them arguing as she hurried back inside. Normally, Willow didn’t like to bother God with every little thing, but as she brushed her teeth, applied a bit of coral lipstick, and rubbed some lavender lotion into her hands and elbows, she silently prayed for God’s grace over tonight’s celebrations. They would certainly need it.
George felt uncomfortable and conspicuous as he walked through town in his “Saturday chores” uniform of a short-sleeved light-blue shirt and khaki pants. Oh, everything was perfectly clean and pressed, but it wasn’t what he’d normally wear to a social gathering. Not that he’d attended many, for certain. Not outside of school functions anyway. But he wanted to respect Willow’s request for “casual attire.” Also, he didn’t want to be the victim of “foolish consistency” of his own “little mind.” He was still struggling over that Ralph Emerson quote.
When he left the house, he’d been worried that graduation might still be going and that he’d arrive too early for the party, but judging by the lively traffic through town, he felt certain that it was over. And when he got to the doorway that led up to the apartments above the gallery, there were balloons in the high school’s red and gold colors and a sign that said COLLIN’S PARTY UP HERE—WELCOME!
He followed red and gold streamers up the stairway to where a door was wide open and another sign said COME IN AND CONTINUE TO THE TERRACE. He could hear music playing as he walked through what was a surprisingly attractive apartment, albeit a bit cluttered with multiple pieces of artwork and lively colors. But it was a nice, wide-open space with clean white walls and what looked like a recently remodeled kitchen. All in all, the space was rather inviting. But it was what he saw when he went through the opened French doors that almost took his breath away.
It was the scent that first hit him—green and herbal and fresh. Then he took in the delicate white lights and hanging lanterns that illuminated the outdoor garden. The effect was surprisingly elegant, like something out of an old classic film. As George slowly walked past small potted trees and flowers and plants, he got the impression of a fairyland in the nighttime. A water feature with an angelic sculpture was lit with a soft pinkish light. George then saw a pathway lined with lanterns, leading him toward the sound of voices and opening out to a seating area where there appeared to be about a dozen or so people gathered.
“George, you made it.” Willow came over to greet him, proceeding to introduce him to the others. He recognized Willow’s gallery assistant, who was there with her husband. And, of course, he already knew Collin and Marissa. Marissa’s mother was there as well as a couple of Willow’s artist friends. But it was the dark-haired girl with the angry countenance that made George uneasy. “This is my daughter Josie and her boyfriend, Garth.” Willow sounded like she had a slight strain to her voice.
“Pleased to meet you all,” George told everyone. Then he turned to Collin. “Congratulations on your graduation.” He handed Collin his present. “A little something to commemorate this occasion.”
Collin thanked him, then proceeded to read the card and carefully unwrap the package. “An Emerson book from Mr. Emerson,” he said happily. “Thank you so much. I’ve read some Ralph Waldo Emerson, but I’m not sure I fully understand his philosophy.”
“I would be surprised if you did. Although I’ve been acquainted with him for decades, I don’t fully understand it myself,” George admitted.
“But I like his thoughts on living and thinking independently,” Collin said. “He’s not one to follow the crowd.”
“I thought you might appreciate that.” George smiled. “I know I do.”
“Well, a lot of us don’t want to follow the crowd,” Josie said a bit sharply. “But then not everyone can appreciate other people’s forms of individuality.” She glared at Willow, as if her words were aimed toward her. “Some people insist on shoving us into their narrow-minded expectations.”
Willow didn’t respond to her daughter’s jab and, taking George by the arm, led him over to a table loaded with appetizers and drinks. “Please, fix yourself a plate.” She pleasantly explained what there was to choose from, obviously in an attempt to distance herself from her caustic daughter.
“Thank you.” As George began to select some bits and pieces, he could hear Josie still taunting her mother. And then Collin spoke up.
“I don’t think you’re a true individualist, Josie.”
“What do you mean by that?” she snapped back.
“Well, think about it,” Collin said calmly but firmly. “You’re just a follower.”
“I am not.”
George turned, cringing to see Collin facing off with Josie. Clearly he had no respect for his “mother,” but George hated to see them getting into a sparring match. Everyone else watched with wide eyes.
“You’ve devoted your life to being a groupie to your boyfriend’s grunge band,” Collin said plainly. “That makes you a follower.”
Josie’s boyfriend let out a loud snort of laughter. “He’s got you there, Josie.”
“Shut up!” she growled at him. “The only reason I follow your stupid band is because my own mother threw me out and disowned me—just because I was a single mother.”
“Oh my.” Willow shook her head. “Please, Josie, let’s remember this is a celebration for Collin and—”
“It’s okay, Nana.” Collin waved a hand at her. “If Josie wants to make a scene, I think she should bring it. Maybe it’s about time we had this out. But first of all, I want to refute what my birth mother just said. I might’ve been just a kid, but I remember what happened.” He turned to the other guests. “My grandmother never disowned her or threw her out. The truth is that my birth mother never wanted to be a mother. She was always dumping me with my grandparents. Then when I was four, she abandoned me for good. She left to follow a band. She was supposed to come back the next day, but she just disappeared—for days. CPS eventually turned over custody to my grandpa and—”
“Your grandpa?” Josie challenged. “Asher wasn’t even related to you, Collin.”
“Maybe not by blood, but he treated me far better than you ever did,” Collin shot back. “He was a father to you too, Josie, but you didn’t even come to his funeral.” He shook a fist. “And I wish you hadn’t come for my graduation either.”
“Big surprise there.” Josie narrowed her eyes at Willow. “You’ve obviously poisoned him against me.” She turned back to C
ollin. “But beware, my son, you come from a long line of messed-up people. Children having children is a big, fat mistake.” She pointed to Marissa, who was watching with wide eyes. “Maybe you’re the one I should warn since a teen pregnancy would—”
“That’s enough!” George said loudly. Everyone turned to him. Feeling almost as if he were in the classroom attempting to restore order, he continued. “I think we’ve all heard enough, Josie. My understanding is that this party is to honor Collin, and if you can’t participate in that, I think you should excuse yourself.” To George’s surprise, everyone began to clap. Even Josie’s boyfriend. And just like that, Josie stormed out.
“I’m sorry,” George muttered to Willow. “I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds just now. I suppose my inner teacher just took over. Please—”
“Don’t apologize.” She smiled brightly. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your intervention.”
“I do too,” Collin told him. “Thank you, Mr. Emerson.”
“Okay, everyone, let’s not let Josie’s bad manners ruin the party,” Willow said loudly. “We still have a lovely cake and lots of food and drinks. I think we should all make a toast to our two graduates.”
George smiled stiffly as he lifted his fluted glass of sparkling cider in a toast, but he felt like a fish out of water and longed to slip out unnoticed and forget this whole evening. To his relief, Willow invited him to help her get some things from the kitchen.
“I really don’t know what came over me,” he said quietly as she loaded his arms with chilled soda cans.
Courting Mr. Emerson Page 9
