Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
Saturday
The sun blazes as boldly as ever, so much so that the blacktop in the condo parking lot literally steams. If there’s even a trace of a breeze, Ellie cannot feel it. The atmosphere is sticky and thick, the air like hot honey. Any suggestion of her morning shower is already gone, the scent of fragrant bubbles replaced by the slickness of sweat.
The whole family piles into Bunny and Frank’s car. Bunny clicks on the air. After a minute of blowing out a stream of forced heat, it cools. Everyone buckles themselves in, prepared for this meal Bunny has planned for them, and for this whole new day.
“Everyone ready?” she asks as she and Frank fold up the windshield’s reflective shade, her palm tree–shaped air freshener swinging from the rearview mirror.
In the back seat, Ellie, Jonah, and Maggie are pressed together in the too-small sedan. But this time, no one winces or complains about the need for private space.
On this trip, there has been no announcement. No news of a split. No fracture to their family, as jarring as a bone breaking. No reason for any of them to worry that their collective life—the one they’re all living in together right now—is anything other than what it seems.
“We’re ready, Mom,” Ellie announces on her trio’s behalf.
Beside her, Maggie is dressed in an old preppy nautical-striped T-shirt that Ellie remembers purchasing for her in high school—she must have packed it in her carry-on—which she’s tucked into a pair of clean-cut denim shorts. The Jesus sandals, much to Ellie’s chagrin, have stayed. But it’s okay. Right now, for the first time in months, her daughter looks exactly like herself—a hybrid of who she used to be and who she’s still busy becoming.
The car moves forward. Through the window, the world is both palm trees and concrete, blue sky and artificial lakes, block after block of neat tropical landscaping.
“It’s nice here,” Maggie decides, her gaze somewhere outside the glass.
Jonah wears his classic black sunglasses. Even with them on, it’s clear that he smiles with his eyes.
Ellie smiles, too, as she gives her daughter’s thigh a quick squeeze. “It really is.”
When they return to the condo after lunch, the rest of the day carries on like a vacation. Together, the five of them enjoy an afternoon swim, the water practically as warm as a bath. They each take turns napping in the pool area’s chaise lounges, all their cheeks becoming a subtle shade of pink. Later, after a family game of shuffleboard on the community’s shared court, they all sit in Bunny and Frank’s yard, sipping iced tea from perspiring acrylic tumblers.
In a blink, it’s nearly evening again. They all head inside, taking turns to shower and change into fresh, comfortable clothes. After she’s slipped into a clean T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, Ellie joins her mother in the kitchen, helping her pull out all the leftovers from lunch and slide them into casserole dishes to reheat.
The doorbell rings. Bunny looks up, confused by this unexpected interruption. A dish towel slung over her shoulder, she moves to the door.
“Shelia?” Bunny questions, her tone not doing much to hide her annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
“Hiya, Bunny,” Shelia says, stretching her neck to gain a peek at who and what is beyond Bunny’s shoulder. She wears her windbreaker and bermuda shorts—just like last time—a foil-wrapped tray in her aging hands. “I whipped up some cream puffs for your guests. I remembered you telling me you had company this weekend.”
Ellie steps out of the kitchen and joins her mother in the condo’s small entryway. “Hello.” She accepts the tray from Shelia. “I’m Bunny’s daughter, Ellie.” She smiles as she says it, and she thinks of Jack, wondering if it’s all actually possible, that maybe he and Kristin did end up together after all, thus allowing Shelia to relocate to here.
Shelia smiles, pleased by this warm greeting. “Pleasure to meet you.” She lingers for a minute. “Well, I’m certainly not here to intrude on anyone’s family time.” She pats her short, ashy hair, and pauses to breathe. “Trust me,” she says. “I’d take every minute with my Johnnie if he were here visiting me, too.” She gives a friendly wave. “Byyye-ya, ladies,” she says and then takes a step back. “Enjoy your night.”
Bunny closes the door and steps back into the kitchen. Ellie follows her and sets the tray on the table. Not a minute passes before she excuses herself and steps outside.
“Shelia?” Ellie asks once her feet have touched the walkway.
Up ahead, Shelia—who’s walking back to her own unit—pauses and turns around. “Oh Lord, you’re not allergic to cream puffs, are you?” She gasps, her insecurities suddenly on full display. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I was only trying to—”
“No,” Ellie says with a laugh. “It’s not that.” An instant look of relief settles back on Shelia’s aged face. “It’s just, well, I have a bit of a strange question, actually.”
Nearby, the leaves on the palm trees rustle from the gentle and warm evening air. Shelia looks at Ellie in question, her hair softly swaying, too.
“By chance,” Ellie begins, “is your son—Johnnie, the one you mentioned—well, is he a physician?”
Shelia’s expression simultaneously lights up and goes dark, like a neon sign someone has turned on right at the exact moment when all the bulbs have burned out. “Yes,” she says. “Why, yes. A very good one, in fact.” Her expression, already wrinkled from time, continues to wrinkle now with thought. “How did you know that?”
Ellie licks her lips, thinking.
“It’s—well, your face,” Ellie decides. “It reminds me of him.” She smiles softly and thinks of the Jack she knew back in her twenties, wondering if Shelia might remember her old name—Ellie Adams—and the mystery girl her son once left behind. “He—um—he treated me a few times,” Ellie offers as further explanation. “How is he?” she asks, wanting to know how it all ended up for him—how their single, shared choice to part ways, and to never rekindle things for those extra six months, has influenced his life—his real one. “I don’t believe he practices in my area anymore. I haven’t seen him in a very long time.”
As soon as Ellie asks these questions, though, she knows it was the wrong thing to do.
Shelia sighs heavily through her nose and briefly closes her eyes. “We lost Johnnie last year,” she tells Ellie. When she reopens her eyes, the tears fall. “The twins were on their way home from college for the summer that afternoon.” She shakes her head at this thought. “He was so excited to see them. He was rushing home from his shift at the hospital near our homes to help get things ready.” She stops, bites her quivering bottom lip, and rubs a nervous hand across the front of her knee-length shorts. “Anyway, another driver sped right through a red light.” She inhales a shaky breath. “One person’s foolish choice,” she explains, “one completely avoidable accident, and it ruined everything.”
Ellie feels like someone has sucked all the air right out of her. “I’m—I’m so sorry.” Tears begin to form in her eyes, too. “I had no idea. I’m terribly sorry I asked.”
Shelia waves a hand, as if this whole transaction has been no big deal, even though, of course, it has been. “It’s fine,” she assures her. “Since moving down here, I haven’t talked about him much with the neighbors. I still feel so guilty about leaving my daughter-in-law behind. The memories,” she explains; “they were too much for me.” Her breath starts to even out, right as a touch of a breeze picks up. “I needed to turn the page and start over someplace new.”
Ellie cannot help herself. She already knows the answer. Still, she needs to ask.
“Your daughter-in-law,” Ellie says. “How is she? I—I can’t imagine—”
“Kristin?” Shelia poses, speaking the name Ellie knew—or rather, hoped —she would say. “Terrible. But, you know, the twins, they keep her going.”
Ellie nods. She does know, in her own way.
“The three of them are making their first trip down this summer,” Shelia explains, wrapping up their conversation. “I can’t wait to show them the pool. They all love to swim.”
Before Ellie steps back around to leave, she poses one final question. “Forgive me,” she says, “if this is an impolite thing to ask. But, by chance, are you Catholic?”
Shelia nods, suddenly as excited as a child. “Yes! Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
In the privacy of her mind, Ellie sees her mother in that ER bed, asking Jack—Shelia’s son—the same question.
“We are, too,” Ellie tells her, acknowledging that Shelia is not terrible like Bunny thinks. She is just a mother in grief. As if there is any other kind. “My mom goes to church most weekdays. Maybe you two can go together sometime,” she suggests.
“Oh, I’d love that!” Shelia announces, continuing to perk back up. “I’ll be sure to pop by to talk to Bunny about it this week!”
All around the neighborhood, the lampposts light up.
“It was nice to meet you, Shelia,” Ellie says.
“It was nice to meet you, too, Ellie,” Shelia responds. “Enjoy the cream puffs.” She offers a smile, one with so many stories hidden behind it. “They were always my Johnnie’s favorite.”
I know, Ellie thinks.