Chapter Eleven
eleven
Lanie
When Lanie let herself into their apartment, her mother was stationed in her regular evening spot, nodding off in front of the living room television. On-screen, an old episode of a reality crime show watched her, instead of the other way around. But Ryan Turner stirred at the sound.
“How was the flight?” She yawned, stretching awake.
Lanie stood there and exhaled before answering, happier than not to be home. Their living room was bounded on all sides, save one, by African art and posters for old art shows featuring African American artists. Overall, the design scheme was all browns and beiges with earth-tone textiles, beads and the indigenous art of numerous cultures. In their living room, Lanie and her mother could travel the world— circa 1975— without leaving the house, all thanks to Pier 1 Imports and World Market...just the way Ryan liked it.
“Flight was okay,” Lanie whispered. “No turbulence.”
Her mother sighed with relief. An actual aerospace engineer came through her ER once and explained to Ryan that turbulence rarely brought down planes. Still, her mother remained wholly unconvinced.
“And, Mom?”
“Much better.”
“That’s good.” Ryan had called her mother as soon as Lanie informed her, but there had never been a question of whether she’d buy a plane ticket and find out for herself.
“Gem’s still pissed?”
“She was hot as a .45 on Sunday night but she might be over it.” Lanie sighed. “Especially since I agreed to be her maid of honor.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Well, technically, I’m Jonah’s best man too.”
Ryan frowned. “How’s that going to work?”
“Not sure.” Lanie shrugged. “But it’ll give me an excuse to see Gran a little more often.”
“Great idea.”
“Maybe you should think about, I don’t know, doing that yourself? Go visit your mother. We got lucky this time, we may not the next.”
Her mother’s mouth was a grim line and she nodded in agreement. But Lanie still doubted that would amount to anything.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Lanie abandoned her bag in the hall and collapsed on the couch across from her mother.
“When Les brought her for a visit. Goodness, was it ten years ago already? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can plan to go to Gem’s wedding? When’s it again?”
“June.” Lanie smiled encouragingly.
“Anything else eventful?” her mother queried as if she knew Lanie was humoring her.
“No, not really.”
Lanie eyed her mother’s cello sitting in its stand in the corner. “You practice while I was gone?”
Her mother’s eyes followed hers to the instrument. “I need to take it to a luthier, have the strings tightened and have them look at the fingerboard.” She shrugged. “Maybe next week.”
“You’ve been saying that,” Lanie muttered.
It was one of the only things Lanie missed from being cooped up together during lockdown. The times when even after grueling, thankless shifts at the hospital, her mother would come home and work out her grief and stress by playing, filling the house with music for hours. Now that things were back to “normal,” her mother hadn’t touched her cello in months.
“Another envelope came for you from that professor in California.” Ryan glanced at Lanie, cannily turning the conversation toward something Lanie didn’t want to talk about. “I left it on the bed for you.”
“I met someone,” Lanie offered up to circumvent that discussion but regretted her attempt at diversion almost immediately. It definitely gave the wrong impression as evidenced by her mother’s eyebrow quirking as her attention swung away from the television. “I mean, I met the same person both coming and going,” Lanie amended quickly. “We were on the same plane both times. Isn’t that...funny?”
“Wow, that is a big coincidence.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” she conceded, relieved her mother was clearly disinterested in hearing more. “Especially since I had to change my flight.”
But Ryan surprised her daughter then, her mouth lifting in the corners like she was slowly coming to understanding. “So what? You sensed fate at work, felt sparks?”
Lanie chuckled, rolling her eyes at the hokeyness of the question. People only felt “sparks” in the rom-coms she and her mom binged on Saturday nights. “No.” She snorted.
Her mother’s amused eyes returned to the television then, dismissing it. “Well then.”
Although Ryan desired grandchildren theoretically, she’d always maintained a very casual attitude toward Lanie’s love life and marriage prospects, making no secret of her desire for Lanie to be careful. Probably because she and her sister, Elliot, had both made their own mother a grandmother quite young.
Perversely, Lanie was annoyed by her mother’s level of disinterest. She never really believed Lanie might have met The One, in part because Ryan didn’t believe The One existed anymore. Lanie’s father had disabused Ryan of those notions years ago. Lanie felt foolish now. This whole fanciful line of conversation was of Lanie’s creation; she couldn’t blame her mother for taking her cues from her.
“Like I said, not a big deal. A funny coincidence, that’s all.” Unable to help herself, Lanie continued, “He was very cute, in a crotchety old man kinda way.” Lanie smiled to herself. For someone who was supposedly disinterested in giving her mom the wrong idea, she didn’t know why she wouldn’t shut up about it.
Her mother’s eyes fixed on Lanie. “Crotchety? How old was he?”
“Mom.”
“What? I can’t ask?”
“I don’t know, thirties?” She wasn’t sure why she lied.
Suspicion ghosted across Ryan’s face. “Okay, well, what’s he do?”
“Ah, he’s some kind of doctor, I think.” Lanie attempted to gloss over it, watching her mother’s face, realizing finally that she’d gone wrong. Lanie’s father was a doctor. Ryan’s expression leeched any joy out of their small moment. She knew she should have waited to tell Narcisa. “No big deal. Just a cool coincidence. It’s doubtful I’ll ever see him again.”
The business card in Lanie’s back pocket practically singed her as she said this.
“True.” Ryan nodded absently, glancing back at her TV program, her interest again waning. “You’d do well to aim lower anyway.”
And with that, their conversation was over.
Lanie sat there for another few minutes before grabbing her bags and heading to her bedroom.