They moved to the porch swing for a while with a second cup of coffee and unsurprisingly, Otis found them and lay down on the porch.
“When I was small and my father had left us, it was hard for her to work and keep all the mommy commitments from parent-teacher conferences to attending special programs and do her part to host playdates and sleepovers. I remember that I wanted a sleepover and she was up to her eyebrows in work and just couldn’t, so I pitched a fit and made things even more difficult. And she was furious, but she forgave me, and then we had a long talk about how it was just the two of us and we were going to have to work as a team or we just wouldn’t make it. I’m not sure I tried hard enough to hold up my end.”
“It sounds like she did very well even with all her duties. Was she fun?”
“Oh God, she was always fun. She had close girlfriends, some from as long ago as high school and some she had met later, but when the women were getting together I was included most of the time. Once I was out of college and teaching, I was always included, as were some of my friends. We were usually a group of four to eight and divided into two generations. We went on a few weekend trips together, to wineries or art walks in small towns, and we had a ball. It was so fun—we would gossip and laugh till we cried. There was one time when we were in a small restaurant in Half Moon Bay and we, mother and daughter, got hit on by a father and son. Oh God, our whole group found that hilarious. I was a little interested, to tell the truth, but my mother said, ‘You can have them both, I’m not going there.’ Then there were those times of crisis when we had to be there for each other as support and there might have been less laughing. Like when Janette went through a divorce and her pain was so awful and we propped her up.”
“And when you went through a divorce,” he said.
“Oh, that was classic,” she said. “My mother always knew it wouldn’t work. She could see right away that Dixon was self-centered and lazy and she really tried not to say anything. Then there was an incident—he stood me up for dinner on my birthday! He had an excuse, but it wasn’t a great one. And he wasn’t sorry. And my mother caved and broke her own rule. She asked me what I was thinking and had I lost my fucking mind. And yes, she said ‘fucking.’ And of course I said, ‘But I love him!’ and she stopped talking. She said she just had to do it once in case there was some sanity in my head.”
“Her rule?” he asked. “Do what once?”
“She said when you’re the mother of a young woman and you don’t think the boyfriend is good enough, you dare not say so or your daughter will marry him before morning. It’s more of a challenge than advice. So she always tried to be welcoming to any boyfriends, to be accepting. I strained her willpower with a few of the guys I brought around, but the thought of me marrying such a selfish egomaniac just wore her down. And of course I married him! He came on to the maid of honor and I still married him. And when I divorced him she never once said she told me so. Instead she was totally sympathetic.”
“You came up here together, after the divorce,” he said.
“That’s right. A quiet getaway. I told Dixon to get his stuff out of our house and that I was filing for divorce.” She grew quiet. “He never asked for another chance. Now, of course, I can see that I dodged a bullet. I’m so much better off. But at the time I felt abandoned and lonely and devastated.”
“We need to eat before there’s more story,” Landry said. “And I know there’s more story.”
“I can’t even think about eating,” she said.
“Even more reason.” He went inside and she followed him. He opened the refrigerator and took inventory. “There’s lots of stuff in here. How would you like an omelet? A veggie omelet with sausage and potatoes on the side?”
“Sounds delicious, but I don’t have sausage and potatoes.”
“I do. I should go check on Lady, make sure she gets out for a break. I’ll bring the rest of the stuff for a breakfast for dinner when I come back. You can go take a shower, see if it makes you feel better. I’ll be right back and I’ll cook. How’s that sound?”
So that’s what they did. She showered while he was dealing with Lady and gathering up his groceries. When she came out of the shower he was slicing and dicing in the kitchen. Of course showering, blowing out her hair and having a nice dinner made all the difference. The storytelling went on while they ate and continued through the washing up of dishes. Then they moved to the sofa with glasses of wine, Tux on her lap and Otis curled up on the floor at their feet.