He is leaving this morning for a conference in New York and will be staying overnight, returning tomorrow afternoon. This will be the first time he’s away since my return, and I hate the thought of sleeping in our bed without him next to me. But I’ve planned a fun Saturday with Valentina.
I’ve just turned the coffee on as he comes up behind me, puts his arms around me, and kisses the back of my neck. “I’m going to miss you,” he says.
I turn around and put my hands on his shoulders. “Me too,” I say, and stand on tiptoe to kiss him.
Over breakfast, Julian tells me about the paper he’s just published and what he is going to talk about during his session. His acute intelligence never fails to impress me. It’s no wonder he’s so well regarded in his field. After a second cup of coffee, I walk to the entrance hall with him and take his overcoat from the hall closet, folding it over my arm while he kneels down to open his briefcase. He shakes his head and looks exasperated. “Damn. I left my phone upstairs. Stupid,” he says, and bounds up the stairs.
In a few minutes he’s back.
“All set?” I ask, and hand him his coat.
“I think so,” Julian says as he puts it on. He fishes in his pocket, frowns, and then tries the other pocket, then feels around in his jacket pockets. “Hmmm,” he says, and looks around.
“What is it?” I ask.
“My car keys. They were in my pocket.”
“Are you sure?” I say, wondering if he’s getting forgetful like me.
“Yes, I’m positive.” He checks the pockets again. “Doesn’t make sense.” He shakes his head and takes the second set of Jaguar keys from the drawer in the console table. “I’ll look for them when I get back. I’m already late.”
We kiss again, and I stand in the doorway waving until his car is out of sight. As I shut the door, I feel a bit dejected at his departure. I try to shake it off, heading upstairs to dress, telling myself that today will be a good day with my daughter. It’s only one night, and before I know it Julian will be home. Valentina and I are going to the Children’s Museum this morning, then having lunch out. She asked if we could have pizza for dinner, and I told her I thought that was an excellent plan.
After I’ve showered and dressed, I go to Valentina’s room, opening her door a crack. When I see that she’s dressed and sitting on her bed reading, I open it all the way and walk in. “You’ve been quiet as a mouse. How long have you been up?”
“Not long. I only read one book.” She closes her book and jumps off the bed. “We’re going to the museum now, right?”
“Yup. And Christmas shopping after that. I love what you’ve picked out to wear.”
She’s wearing a hot-pink turtleneck sweater, and a pair of brown-and-white cowboy boots. I watch as she brushes her hair and pulls it back with a purple-sequined headband.
“You look marvelous,” I tell her, and we hold hands as we go down the stairs together.
“You do too, Mommy. But you should wear your cowboy boots too. Then we could match.”
I look down at the comfortable wool-lined boots I’m wearing for all the walking we’ll do today. I don’t relish the idea of trading them for cowboy boots, but it’s worth it for Valentina. “You’re right,” I say to her. “Let’s go back upstairs right now, and I’ll change.”
Valentina claps her hands. “Yay.”
Mission accomplished, we head downstairs, and I can see that she’s anxious to start the day we have been planning for the last two weeks.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her the down coat. “Do you need help with the zipper?”
She gives me a disdainful look. “I’m not a baby, Mom.”
I swallow a laugh. “I know. Sometimes I forget what a big girl you are.” That garners a kinder look from her.
I slip on my own down jacket and grab my handbag. “Off we go,” I say, and open the kitchen door to the garage. When I take the car keys from my purse and hit the button that starts the car, nothing happens. I press on it again. Again nothing. I look at the keys in my hand and shrink back in horror. I am holding the keys to Julian’s Jaguar. I’m hot all of a sudden, and Valentina is asking me what’s wrong. I can’t think. Why are these keys in my handbag? I always leave my purse on the console table in the hall, right next to the key holder. How could I have taken the keys from his pocket and dropped them in my bag without even realizing it? I fish around and find my own car keys and we leave, but I’m shaken and second-guessing myself.