When Jen pulls up, she sees her mom bent over a saw-horse she’s set up in the driveway. Her mom looks up and smiles, stretches her arms wide as Jen walks up the drive with Chris in her arms. The sun flashes off the waving saw in her right hand, Jen thinks she looks like a Magi waving her wand.
“What are you doing now?” Jen says.
“I’m building a gazebo! I got the kit down at Linty’s. Just wait ‘ti1 your Dad sees…he was going to buy one, the silly ass. You wouldn’t believe what they cost. Hey, big guy, kisses for Gramma? Come see me sweetie, God you’re a heavy little bugger…” She hands Jen the saw in an awkward exchange. She makes Jen a little nervous sometimes.
“Guess it’s a bad day for babysitting, eh?” Jen says while her mom turns with Chris in tow and head for the back yard.
“Naw, I bought this little bouncy walker thing at a garage sale yesterday. Chris can play in it while I finish up this section. It’ll be fine. Where’re you off to today?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Jace and I need some time alone,” Jen says, trying to make it sound lighter than it feels.
“He’s off today? Hey, what’s the matter, Jen?”
There’s something about her mom that starts her crying. She’s the one person Jen can’t fool. She doesn’t pry, but she sniffs everything out and before Jen knows it she’s blubbering away. All it takes is a look. The tears are coursing down her face, and she doesn’t know where to begin. She knows her mom likes to keep things simple, is uncomfortable beyond her salty physical world, awkward in Jen’s cerebral Pandora’s box.
“Come look in the garage,” her mom says.
Jen follows her.
“Chris, look what Gramma got you, oooh, this is going to be fun.” She pushes down on the empty jumper a couple of times; it wheezes and pops back up.
“And it has brakes, so you can make it stationary, Jen. Five bucks. Not bad, eh?”
Jen nods.
“Let’s go to the back yard and try it. Can you carry it, Jen?”
“Sure,” she chokes out. She knows Jen can’t talk, is letting her collect herself. Jen’s grateful.
Jen walks beside her, and notices her hair for the first time. She’s had it cut. It falls straight to her neck now – salt and pepper – she still refuses to dye it. But it’s a young cut, and frames her face nicely. Her face is ageless, a few lines, but nothing telling. Round and soft. They’ve been mistaken for sisters, because they have the same eyes. She’s wearing one of her oversized cotton shirts, plain but beautifully flowing, and Jen’s dad’s jeans. He hates it when she wears them, because he never has any clean jeans. But she says it makes her feel close to her hon.
Then he says “Aw, Alison, you’re always close to your hon.” Then they hug and kiss. They never get tired of the bit, it seems to Jen.
Jen sets the walker-jumper on the patio and her mom puts Chris into it. She faces her chair toward him and cranks the umbrella on the table to shade him. Jen sits down and tries to pull herself together.
“Want some ice tea?” she asks.
Jen nods. Her mom gets up to go fix it, and Jen lights a cigarette. She’s shaking, and the breeze is flickering the flame, burning her thumb. It’s so peaceful here. She regrets tipping her hand. She doesn’t want to talk and spoil everything around her. The little cement statues, the hammock wavering in the breeze, the roses, perennials, the tall elm trees…she loves it here, and hates it. It always seemed so boring to her before, but now she can see its comfort, and wants that comfort to hold her.
Her mom returns with iced tea and toys for Chris. She is showing him how to open a Velcro patch on a doll to reveal a mirror. She gasps and laughs as he lights up. The jumper wheezes. Chris has figured out how to make it bounce. In a minute, he moves it forward, leaping off his little legs like a frog.
“Mom, maybe we should put the brakes on. He might get it over to the edge of the patio and onto the lawn,” Jen says.
“If you want, but I’ll watch him to make sure. I don’t think it will topple anyway, it’s only an inch difference from the cement to the lawn.”
“Okay then,” Jen says. “I guess it’s good exercise for him.”
“That’s how you learned to walk.”
“Mmmm.”
“What do you think, do you like where I have the gazebo?” she asks.
Jen looks over between the two elm trees and see the octagonal floor that in her mom’s mind must seem like a gazebo already.
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, those elms are a dirty tree, there’d be crap on the roof all fall and winter.”
“So put it out in the open then.”
“But then it’s not sheltered from the rain.”
“The rain? You’re going to put a roof on it, aren’t you?”
“Of course, don’t be foolish.”
“So who cares about the rain?”
“It will weather more quickly,” she muses.
“Better than being hit by lightening under a tree,” Jen points out.
“Really no…” she says, but Jen can see this troubles her. She’s thinking about it.
Jen has this sudden, sad vision of her sitting alone at night in this weathered old gazebo with the rain pelting down and flashes of summer sheet lightning lighting her weathered face. Her hair is completely grey, and long, past her waist like she used to have it. In the picture, Jen knows her step dad is dead. She sees her mom all crumpled up with her garden gone to seed. Jen wants to cry and hold her like a child waking from a bad dream. She sees the shadow again, but as she moves closer to the face, it’s her own face, not her mom’s.
“What is it, Jen?”
“Just being morbid, mom.”
“What – tell me.”
“Where was Dad going to put it? When he was talking about buying one?” Jen says, hoping to change the subject without answering the question.
“Oh, you know him. He never thinks these things out. But what were you thinking about?”
“I guess we’re all going to die someday,” Jen admits, thinking to herself that the whole “menopausal-mental-fog” is really hit and miss with her mom. Usually, miss.
“Well of course, what would be the point otherwise?” Her mom says matter-of-factly.
“The point?”
“Who the hell would want to live forever, Jen? I just hope you have the sense to burn me when I’m done. Your dad doesn’t believe in it. You’ll have to fight him on it if I go first.”
“Sure, I promise.”
“Which reminds me, I moved some of my money into a new mutual fund, one with just your name and mine on it, in case anything happens. I wouldn’t want his kids to get at it.”
Jen’s step dad had been married before, and suffice it to say the blended family was like oil and water.
“Oh, God, how can I keep track, mom? You’re always shifting this and that. I mean, don’t worry. I don’t care about the money anyway.” Jen looked away, uncomfortable at the topic.
“It’s not the money. It’s just that I know they’ll try to get everything they can. God, they’re so far into him now, he’ll have nothing left of his own soon.”
“Can’t you say anything?”
“It’s his money. That’s the deal. We weren’t kids this time ‘round, you know.”
“Yeah, well, he’s pretty free with your money.”
“That doesn’t bother me. It’s just those two, they’re so spoiled. It’s not his fault; he’s got a big heart.”
“Well, he’s not doing them any good by it. My god, shoot me if I’m coming around for handouts in ten years. At their age they should be putting something back in.”
“You’re too proud, I know. But why should they have it so easy and you and Jace be struggling like you do to make ends meet. It’s not fair. They’ve all got good jobs.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not bad for us. The raise helped. I think we can get through a few more months before I have to get serious about finding a job again.”
“And if you go back to work, when are you going to start sculpting again?”
“When you go back to school and learn the violin,” Jen teases her.
“Hey, I might just do that. This retirement business is alright in the summer, but the winters are killers.”
“Dad’ll be off soon though when he retires, then it will be better.”
“Or maybe worse,” says her mom, raising her eyebrows. Jen sees her point and laughs.
For all their romance, she likes her time alone. Jen realizes they’ve never had much time aside from weekends together, working different shifts like they did.
“Anyway, I can’t sculpt with this guy around,” Jen says, pointing at Chris, who’s leaping around the patio gleefully, apparently oblivious to the fact that his household is in meltdown.
“I don’t know, Jen. You only go round once. You should try to do what you want.”
“Boy, you’ve really changed your tune over the years.”
“Age does that to you. Look at this house. Sure, it’s great. I never dreamed I’d have all this. But look what I had to do for it – all those missed years.”
“What’d you miss?” Jen asks. This is new. She’s a little surprised.
“You, for one. Me, for another. They just slipped by on me.”
“I came here to get cheered up, mom,” Jen says truthfully.
She chuckles. “If you want milk, go to a cow.”
“Mom, come off it. This isn’t like you.”
“I know. I just have so much time on my hands lately. That’s never good for the soul. Mind you, I spent my whole life looking forward to this.”
“Maybe that’s my problem too.”
“Too much time? Could be. I mean, you’ve never really had a break like this. Even when you were sculpting you always were rushing around trying to make rent.”
“Yea, I miss that.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Maybe things have been going too well for us, so I just have to shit all over everything to get some drama happening, to feel alive.”
“You were like that in your teens. Why, have you been picking fights with Jace?”
“No, mom, it’s worse than that. We’re completely out of touch. I can’t really remember how I felt about him. We had a fight this morning, the worst yet, and I didn’t feel anything but sick rage. Usually all this sentimentality washes over me afterwards, but there’s nothing except the dread of facing him again.”
Jen can’t stop the tears this time, huge sobs breaking free, cracking her open.
“Oh, Jen, you’re just mad. Give it time,” she reaches over to rub Jen’s back, but Jen is still sobbing violently. “Hey, come on, there’s gotta be more to it than that. Is there someone else, is that it?” her mom asks.
Jen nods.
“God, Jen, I don’t know. You just get distracted so easily. Jace is a sweet man, maybe not wild enough for your liking, but probably better for you. And for Chris.”
“No mom, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t even like the guy, it’s not like I’m in love with someone else. It’s over. But that was what started this feeling, this disconnect…”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake! And Jace found out?”
“No, he doesn’t even know anything about that. At least I don’t think he does. But things are way out of control with us.”
“Then it’s your own guilt stopping you up. It’s probably driving him nuts. Don’t kid yourself, deep down I’m sure he knows. He’s just the type to never admit it.” Jen knows her mom is trying not to sound angry, but she can hear it, and it makes her feel worse. She remembers that her birth father was a philanderer bar none. Of course her mom’s sympathies would lie with Jace in a way.
“I guess I better tell him, and if he wants out, fine. Otherwise, we start over…” Jen says, trying to catch her breath and fish a tissue out of her purse.
“Don’t be a fool! If you tell him, you’re done and you know it. You couldn’t live with him, he’d be so hurt. Is that what you want? An excuse to leave?”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Then sit tight. Go home and patch things up, try to have a good day together and give yourself some time. Give yourself a deadline. Say, next summer, if you feel the same way in a year then you know it’s time to fix it or get out. But don’t be impulsive about it. There’s more to it with Chris in the picture.”
“I know that. But a year? I think it’s better to lay it on the line and whatever happens, happens.”
“That’s just like you too. That works in business, when you can take a deal or leave it. This isn’t business, Jen. The heart changes from day to day, nothing’s ever definite. The kind of moods you go through, shit, you’d be a fool to throw it all away on a whim. Wait it out, girl.”
“You don’t think I should tell him?” Jen’s eyes feel achy and swollen. She is exhausted and wants only to sleep now.
“No. Probably not ever. That’s too much for him. There are other ways. I don’t know, I can’t imagine it. I’ve never done it. But I know that nothing’s the same after. Look at your real father. That was what really did us in.”
“What? Come on, mom, you knew it for years. I was there, remember. All the little things, the women’s gloves you found in the car, the strange shoes, perfume. Your year theory – is that how you survived dad so long?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
“And look what you went through. You’re lucky you’re still alive.”
“No, it’s good the way it went. Because when I left I was free and I never had second thoughts. Sure it took me a long time. Sure it was stupid to stay in it so long. But I haven’t looked back once and I’ve got it pretty damned good now.”
“Sounds pretty fatalistic.”
“Hell, what else is there?”
“I don’t know, mom. I just want today to never have happened. Shit, I didn’t even tell you about last night.”
“Why don’t you tell me another time and go home now to Jace.”
“I’d like to stay a while…”
“You’re just putting it off.”
“Yup, I am,” Jen admits.
“Don’t, Jen. You do what you want to do, but don’t avoid it.”
“You’re right. I’ll go face the music. What time should I get Chris?” Jen asks.
“Pick him up tomorrow morning. That way you’ll have lots of time, okay?”
“I don’t know, mom, I didn’t bring overnight stuff…”
“I’d like the company, and I’ve got everything I need. I just stocked up.”
“Okay, I guess.” Jen gets up and goes over to the jumper to pick Chris up for a goodbye cuddle. She can’t believe how heavy he feels. She’s so drained and her wrist still hurts. She thinks she mustn’t have any bruises, though, or her mom would have noticed by now. No point in getting her even more worried. She savors Chris’s warmth, the sense of connection, the smell of innocence. She’s going to start sobbing again if she doesn’t put him down.
“Hey, pumpkin,” she croons, “Want to stay with Gramma tonight and have a pajama party?”
He coos at Jen and winds his chubby fingers in her hair. He’s strong.
“Don’t hurt mommy. Let go mommy’s hair…”
Her mom’s laughing at him. He can do no wrong in her eyes. It’s good there’s someone to spoil him though. The poor guy probably needs a break from us too, Jen thinks.
“You know Jen, maybe you should start working again for a while. I could babysit for you.” She comes over to take him Chris from Jen’s arms.
“Every day? Are you nuts?”
“I’d love it. We’ll talk about it later. You better get going.”
“Okay, thanks mom,” Jen says, giving her and Chris and awkward group hug and walking gravely to the car. She would like to find some place quiet to curl up and sleep for a hundred years.