Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LORELAI
I decide to stop at the grocery store on my way home. I was just there yesterday so I don’t need anything. But I’m in the market for comfort, and I’m thinking pudding is the way to go. When I get to the proper aisle, I scope out the flavors, but I can’t decide what I want. This is how I come to buy all four kinds. Six boxes of each because this feels like it’s going to be an ongoing need.
Once I’ve nearly wiped the shelves clean of pudding, I walk around the aisles and look for something else to impulse buy. I add a bag of chocolate chips, a bag of pretzels and a box of Golden Grahams to my cart. That’s right, cheater s’mores are calling my name!
After paying for my purchases, I drive home. Getting out of the car, I grab my grocery bag before slogging through a particularly wet slush that leads to the front door. The snow is melting and spring is nearly here, which is the seasonal start of new beginnings. You and me both, spring. Let’s do this!
I open the front door before taking off my coat and letting it drop at my feet. Then I make my way to the kitchen where I pull a gallon of milk out of the refrigerator. I pour the contents of a box of chocolate pudding into a mixing bowl and add the required amount of liquid. I whisk the mixture until it starts to thicken, all the while wondering at the magic of instant pudding. How did pioneer women ever survive without it?
I don’t bother refrigerating my creation for optimal thickness. Instead, I take the bowl, along with a can of whipped cream spray, to the couch. I sit down and don’t move until I’ve consumed all four servings. Even though my stomach is full to bursting, I still feel oddly empty.
Rolling off the sofa, I crawl to the built-in bookcase across the room. I stare at the titles and ponder which ones, if any, my parents will want to keep. I’m guessing the complete series of Danielle Steel novels can go, but what about all my dad’s books on aliens? He’s convinced that any time now the truth about our standing in the universe is going to be revealed. He vacillates between mentally trying to prepare for planetary takeover and wondering what kind of clothes he’ll need on Mars.
For now, I leave his books on the shelf and start to make a pile of my mom’s. She’s big into women’s fiction that focusses heavily on generational sagas. You know, a mother, daughter, and granddaughter all raising their families in the same ancestral home. I guess she didn’t like them enough to create the same kind of story for our lives. Bitter, party of one.
Once half the shelves are empty, I lay on the floor and close my eyes. When Noah and I were little, our mom used to crawl around the carpet with us and we’d pretend to be cats. This was always around nap time, and inevitably we snoozed where we fell. It’s a nice memory that I decide to reenact.
I’m not sure how long I sleep before the doorbell interrupts my rest. Rolling over, I wipe a trail of saliva and carpet fibers off my mouth before getting up to see who it is.
Pulling the door open, I exclaim, “Allie!”
She pushes past me. “You called, which is weird. Is something wrong?”
It’s true that most people our age text instead of actually talking to each other, but needs must. If today isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is. Leading the way to the living room, I tell her, “My parents are selling our house.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t seem concerned.
“They’re buying a place in Florida.” When her expression doesn’t shift, I add, “They’re leaving Elk Lake.”
Sitting down on the couch, she looks around the room. “I see you’ve already started packing. When are they selling?”
“As soon as I can get the place repainted, re-carpeted, and emptied.”
“Good for them.” She still doesn’t appear to be worried on my behalf.
“I’m a little concerned about me.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve been home for a few years now. I’m worried about how I’ll make it on the outside.
“Lorelai.” She scoots over to console me. “You’re going to be okay.”
I shake my head. “I hope so.”
“People move all the time.”
I stand up and start to pace back and forth across the room. “People do move all the time. But I don’t. I’m not sure I know how.”
“You moved to Madison,” she reminds me. “You haven’t always lived at home.”
“That’s true,” I tell her. “But that was my decision. This isn’t.”
“Just take the next step,” my friend says. “You don’t have to know what comes after that. Not yet.”
“What do you think my next step is?” Because pudding was my first thought and that’s currently laying in my stomach like a lead weight.
Stating the obvious, she says, “You’ll need to find an apartment.”
“I’m not sure I make enough money.” She shrugs. “We’ll find you something you can afford. You don’t need a lot of space,” she says. “You’re only one person.”
Allie has had a much harder road than I have, and she’s still managed to hold her own. I try to let that console me, while saying, “I can’t imagine my parents not living in Elk Lake.”
“They’re only here for part of the year. So, I suppose it will be a lot like it is now, except that you’ll be living somewhere else.”
“I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“No one gets that like I do,” she says. “Heck, I’m still there. But if my parents decided to move, I’d have to go, too.”
“It’s just that …” I don’t really know what I’m going to say, so it’s a good thing she interrupts me.
“You’ve been on your own before, Lorelai. You can do it again. You just need to put one foot in front of the other until you see where your path is leading you.”
My head bobs up and down. “You’re right.”
“Life is shocking at times. And it’s hard. Things happen that you never, in a million years, thought would happen. But even so,” she says, “I have to believe the struggles are worth the journey.”
“Do you want to get an apartment with me?” That would make this a lot less difficult on me both financially as well as emotionally.
Instead of coming to my rescue, Allie shakes her head. “I’ve only been home a few months. I’m not ready to commit to staying in Elk Lake.”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” I say hopefully
She smiles kindly. “You’ve got this. You don’t need your parents. You’re a remarkable woman.”
She’s wrong. I need all my people, but I still appreciate the props. “You feel like going to the box store with me?”
“You don’t have to pack right now,” she says. “Why don’t we go see a movie or something. Get your mind off things.”
That actually sounds like a great idea. “What’s showing?”
“A Sandra Bullock marathon. The Proposal first, then Miss Congeniality , followed by The Lost City . If six hours of romcoms can’t take your mind off things, nothing can.”
“I’m in!” I tell her enthusiastically. And while I’m currently full of pudding, I’m sure I can fit some buttered popcorn in there, too. I lead the way to the front door and pick my coat up off the floor. Grabbing my purse, I say, “Thanks for being my friend, Allie.”
“Thanks for being my friend, Lor.” Taking my hand, she adds, “We’re both going to find our way.”
“One day at a time.”
“One step at a time.”
And even though I’m currently facing what feels like the biggest challenge of my life, I suddenly have hope that there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. So long as it isn’t a train …