Chapter 20 #2
I take a deep breath before answering, “Money was a huge source of tension in my house growing up. My parents fought about it constantly. I watched my dad work overtime doing jobs he hated, hoping it would be enough to make my mom happy, but... Anyway, so you can imagine the war that broke out between her and me when I announced that I wanted to be an actor, one of the most notoriously unstable careers out there. And then when I failed at being an actor…”
“Hold on a second. Did you really fail, though?”
“You don’t see me up on the silver screen, do ya?” I chuckle.
“No,” she says. “But I do see you running a business you adore. I see you making a difference in the lives of kids who love you, whether you teach them about fitness or lead them through a truly hilarious holiday show experience. I see you immersed in your creativity and passion every single day and inspiring the people around you with your annoyingly unshakable positivity while you do it. That’s not a person who has failed, Matt.
That’s someone who found a new path and is walking it beautifully. ”
“Damn, girl. That was one hell of a speech,” I say.
“Yeah, I really went for it, didn’t I?” she laughs. “Allow me one amendment to my speech, though?”
“Sure.”
“Your positivity is not annoying. It’s great. Honestly, I wish I had more of it myself.”
“You have plenty,” I say softly.
My eyes are drawn then to the empty corner of my apartment. The one I cleared in anticipation of finally getting myself a Christmas tree. But it’s almost mid-December, and I still haven’t allowed myself to do it.
“Can I say something really shitty now to counteract all my usual positivity?” I ask.
“Yes, please!” she says, sounding relieved. “I was starting to forget who I was for a moment!”
“Brace yourself, friend. It’s terrible.”
I’m keeping the vibe light right now for Penny’s sake, but a pit is forming in my stomach at the idea of saying this next thing out loud.
“Hit me.”
She waits patiently for me to speak.
“I would do anything to take this disease away from her,” I say.
“Of course you would. What’s so terrible about that?”
“I didn’t get to the terrible part yet.” I clear my throat.
“My, uh, my mom’s Alzheimer's… It’s actually been good for us.
” I quickly explain, “I mean, I hate what she’s going through—of course I do—but in some ways, it feels like she and I are getting a do-over on our relationship.
We have this… clean, or a cleaner slate?
At least now, when she tells outlandish stories, I know it’s because she’s confused.
Not because she’s trying to hurt me.” I pause.
“Hell, maybe she never was trying to hurt me. Maybe she always had something going on that my dad and I didn’t understand. ”
Penny is quiet on the other end, just listening.
“Anyway, I feel closer to her now than I ever have. It’s a gift I wasn’t expecting, I guess.”
I sit in the silence for a moment.
“You think I’m awful?”
“No,” she says. “Absolutely not. However you feel is totally valid. There’s no shame in finding the silver lining in an otherwise impossible situation. Your mom is really lucky to have you.”
I sigh. “Thank you, Penny. And thank you for what you said before about my—what did you call it? My journey?”
She snorts. “I believe I said path, Matt. If I start using the word journey, then I will have officially been lost to the toxic positivity side, and you should have an intervention for me.”
“Got it. I will have Keira and Dottie on standby,” I laugh. “For what it’s worth, my path and I appreciate you.”
We fall into another moment of silence, but nothing about it feels awkward. And neither of us seems ready for this conversation to end.
“Permission to change the subject drastically?” I ask.
“For such a bold person, you ask for permission a lot.”
“Do I?”
“You do,” Penny says. “And permission granted.”
“You have a Christmas tree!?”
She chuckles. “You sound surprised.”
“Honestly, I kinda am!”
“You think I’m super grinchy, huh?”
“Not super grinchy, no. But I did overhear you once saying that you hate Christmas music.”
“I don’t hate it exactly. It’s just…the incessant noise I hear in December.”
“Alright, it’s official. Yes, you are a grinch, and I am horrified by your humbugging.”
“Sorry,” she chuckles, not sounding apologetic at all. “When you work in retail, Christmas music infiltrates your brain all day, every day this time of year. It becomes a nuisance. Like a gnat.”
“Wow! As a Christmas music aficionado, I simply have no words.”
She doesn’t respond right away.
“You’re surprised I know the word aficionado, aren’t you?”
She lets out an embarrassed breath. “Kinda, yeah!”
“Damn, girl!” I laugh. “That meathead impression you got of me was strong, huh?”
“It’s dissipating,” she says. “I promise.”
“For the record, I know what the word dissipating means, too.”
“I’m sure you do, Christmas boy,” she teases.
“Let me guess, your Christmas tree is one of those pre-lit trees with faux snow sprayed on the branches. You have tinsel and garland. White and multicolored lights. You have all the decorations you made in preschool and kindergarten hanging on it, as well as a full collection of those Picolas Cage ornaments.”
“That is quite an imagination you have going there, madam. What pray tell are ‘Picolas Cage ornaments?’”
“They are exactly what they sound like. Look ’em up and thank me later.”
“I will do that. I’m sorry to burst your imaginative bubble, but currently, I don’t have a tree.”
She gasps into the phone. “How is that possible? What happened to going ‘balls deep into Christmas?’”
“Well, my dad died on Christmas, so it’s always been a thing,” I say.
“Oh my god, Matt. On Christmas?”
I chuckle. “I think that’s enough of the heavy talk tonight. It would be nice if you actually wanted to call me back sometime.”
“Of course I’ll call you back sometime,” she says. I’m just—After that, Christmas must’ve always been a sad time in your house, huh?”
“Yeah. My mom didn’t want to celebrate it, decorate for it, hell, even acknowledge it, which was totally understandable…”
“Sure, but you were a little kid.”
“I tried celebrating it a little at school when she wasn’t around, but I always felt guilty about it. When I was older and met Eugene, I’d dabble a bit at his family’s Christmas parties too, but...”
“…you never went balls deep,” she says thoughtfully.
I laugh. “Until now.”
“Makes sense,” she says. “With your mom being sick, and with your relationship being so different… you felt like maybe you could finally celebrate it this year without feeling guilty?”
Damn, she’s good.
“Does that make me a bad person?” I ask.
“No way. People deserve to experience joy. Especially after they’ve been through something so painful.” I hear her wince through the phone. “I’m sorry I said the gym looks like Father Christmas took a dump on it.”
“You weren’t wrong! Santa pissing string lights off the loft was a bold choice on my part. It’s not for everybody.”
“I could have been kinder at that moment,” she says. “I could have been kinder to you in general this past month or so. I’m sorry.”
“Nah. You’re a peach!”
“I think we both know I’m not a peach. A spicy nectarine, maybe.” She laughs.
“You’re perfect, as is, Penny.”
“Back atcha,” she says softly. “Would it be cheesy to say that I’m really glad I texted ‘you up’ tonight?”
“Not at all. I’m really glad you did too.”
I’m feeling grateful right now that she can’t see me grinning like an idiot.
“I should probably go,” she says. “Listen, though,” she starts.
“If, um, if it turns out your mom does remember meeting me, and if for some reason the idea of us being together still makes her happy… don’t hesitate to invite me back, okay?
Dottie’s been really cool about extending my lunch hour into a lunch ninety minutes, so… ”
“You would do that for me?” I say. “I mean for her?”
“Absolutely. We could all use a little more joy at Christmas time, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” I say on an exhale. “We could.”
“Sweet dreams, Matt.”
“Sweet dreams, Penny.”
Something tells me my dreams tonight will be very sweet. Because they will be filled with visions of her.