Chapter 32
In the morning, Callie was up before me. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed. Three stuffed unicorns—two big, one small—were in a row.
“What are you playing?” I asked.
“Unicorn family—they’re going to a hotel on a mountain in New Hampshire for the weekend. They’re very excited because the hotel has an indoor pool!”
“Have you ever done that?”
“No, but my friend at school did. Mom and Dad promised they’d take me in December during Christmas break. They said we’d be there for three days, but I want it to be longer. Dad loves to pretend he’s a shark.”
I froze in place, agonized by her excruciating words.
I tugged on my running pants, a T-shirt, and a remnant of a sweatshirt from podiatry school for my final trot in the country. Outside, in the fresh cold air, it felt more like January than early November.
I dallied on Lisa’s porch, enjoying the bounty of the Berkshires: the frosty grass, the oddly shaped pumpkins glistening on the steps, the leaves on the ground, the wooded hills on the horizon, the morning call of a rooster, chickens clucking in the coop a neighbor kept across the road, the colonial homes, the unmistakable scent of chimney smoke, the sun rising into the sky, bringing on the full light of another day. I was departing a pastoral place.
Lisa appeared in a maroon T-shirt and pink pajama pants, her long hair tumbled, her face unwashed. She rubbed her eyes, smiled at me. She inhaled and exhaled—the crisp air beckoned for it.
“Morning,” she said.
“It’s a gorgeous morning.”
“I love it here,” she said, stretching from side to side.
I stood still, looking ahead.
“Don’t you stretch before you run?” she asked.
“No. I start running immediately. You know, before I change my mind.”
“You’re supposed to stretch.”
Supposed to? She was telling me about supposed to. I had led my life by the book. Don’t ask me which book. Maybe it was the book my mother and father had written for me. With a few adaptations.
“Mom, if you don’t stretch, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ll remember that the next time I don’t stretch.”
“Mom, I want you to know that Will is not a flash in the pan. When I first came to town to launch the Farmer’s Daughter, he dropped by to welcome me. We became friends. I turned to him for advice because Brian is a professor not an entrepreneur. I’ve been relying on Will for a long time.”
Mother on tiptoe. “You have a lot in common.”
“I understand this is asking a lot, but I wondered if you would stay a few extra days. I’m planning to explain the situation to Callie, and it would help if you were around.”
She tugged at my heart. But I longed to go home. Fungal infections, hammertoes, blisters, ingrown toenails, and chronic conditions of the feet were waiting for me. I was bushed, exhausted by the whirlwind that was my daughter’s existence. I craved peace and my own place. What’s more, I knew if I stayed, Lisa wouldn’t be around for Callie. She’d rely on me to be there, and Lisa was what Callie needed.
I suggested, “Would you consider speaking to Callie with Brian?”
“I have no interest in that,” she snapped.
“Why?” I believed a show of unity would help Callie.
She ignored my question.
“First up, I need to be with Will so we can go through the details of how this is going to work.”
Love is blind. “Will? What about Brian?”
“I told you. I have a lawyer for that, a good one, with teeth. I’m moving on. Will wants to help with my restaurant. He thinks he can make it as celebrated as his.”
Her restaurant? Wasn’t this the time to cater to her kid? “Wouldn’t it be better to hold off on that and concentrate on Callie?”
My comment went right by her. “And guess what? He wants to be a partner in the inn. I’d like to hammer it all out.”
I hung back for a moment. No way she was going to hurt Jake by pushing him aside. I had to stop that before I left the porch. “Wait. If he’s your partner, why do you need Dad?”
“Three people can run an inn. Besides, Dad wants to invest.”
“What Dad wants is to be an active participant.”
“Of course, Mom,” she said, although I recognized her number one interest now was Will. Jake would complicate it. Besides, I knew Jake—I’d been married to him for decades. He wasn’t about to join two lovebirds in a business venture of any kind. As soon as Jake heard the idea, he’d dodge the bullets.
“I know you planned to leave when I returned, but since I’m going to be busy this week, I thought maybe you could stay longer. Callie loves having you here. She doesn’t want you to go.”
I checked a tear, swallowed it back into my eye. I didn’t want to start a long explanation. She had enough on her head. To simplify, I lied. It felt strange. As though someone besides me was doing it. But I knew she had to mother, handle her own situation, and the right thing was for me to leave. “I have commitments back home, appointments Rizzo lined up because, well, I’ve already been gone quite a while. Lisa, I understand you’re going through a tough period, but I need to get back. Patients, especially the one I rescheduled originally, are depending on me.”
“Wait. Mom, you told me you and Dad had planned to be at Michael’s anyway.”
“I said that because I wanted to be with Callie. I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Honestly, that’s what I figured when you agreed so quickly, but I needed you in Woodfield more for me than for Callie. I wanted to know my mom would be here for solace.”
“I know now,” I said. “And I’m glad my presence was important to you. But, Lisa, I learned a lot while I was here. I need to go home and process it. As someone who follows her heart, you can surely understand.”
“But you and Dad . . .”
“What about us?”
“Dad said you’d peeked at a house in Great Barrington.”
“Let’s say that was a fiasco.”
“He told me you were willing to move here, for sure.”
The word “willing” hit me in the head. “Willing” was not wanting . And I had been willing my entire adult life. Willing to always put my family first. Willing to make decisions that made others secure and happy. Willing, out of love.
This time, what did I want ? Was I ready to upend my life? Would I be content as an accessory to Lisa’s existence? Doing what she asked? Time. I was sixty-seven. How much time remained? And what did I want to do with it? I could stay put in Florida and build on the life I had started there. The practice that meant so much to me, my friends—my book club, neighbors, and acquaintances who knew me for me—not people who saw me as Lisa and Callie’s sideshow. Or I could move, be with Callie—and the new baby. Begin again—from nothing. I had a decision to make.
When I didn’t respond, she said, “Well, have a good run,” bringing my thoughts back to the reason I was on the porch, not stretching.
I took my first step. If I could, I would have run all the way back to Flamingo Estates. Those spindly birds were looking good.
I passed by Arlo’s store and circled back to say hello—and goodbye.
“I heard the news,” he said.
“It’s a small town,” I said.
“That’s what Di always says.”
“Yes, I know.”
He rubbed his chin. “Milton dying in the arms of a woman his age. Karma.”
“Oh, you mean that news.” For me, Lisa’s bombshell about her divorce and pregnancy had eclipsed Milton’s death. But of course, Arlo was correct. It turned out that the woman Milton had been with when he had the stroke that killed him had been his prom date in high school. Di had taken great joy in telling me they were in the same grade, but the woman had been held back, making her a year older than Milton.
“There’s other news,” I said.
“I know. Lisa and Brian are getting a divorce,” he said. “I saw that coming.”
“I didn’t.”
“So, she’s leaving him for Will Cook,” he said as if it were a historical fact I’d find in a textbook, akin to Thanksgiving being the fourth Thursday in November.
I took a shot. “Since I assume you know him, what can you tell me about him?”
“He’s a good guy. Smart. Nothing like Brian.”
“Brian is smart.”
“Way different. You’ll see.”
“I haven’t met him yet. Lisa didn’t offer to introduce me. I can wait until my next trip.”
“When are you leaving?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“I had my fingers crossed you’d decide to move here,” he said.
I smiled.
“Do you want another piece of news?” he asked.
I nodded. “We don’t have a town crier in Boca Raton.”
“I’m a sucker for punishment. Di and I are talking about moving in together.”
“I’m not surprised. Where would you both live?”
“My house, of course. She would either sell her place or rent it.”
“I see. Arlo, will you still celebrate Halloween?”
“Opposites attract.”
“No question.”
“I’d hug goodbye, but with my luck, Di would stop in.”
He put out his hand.
I gave him mine.
As I approached Lisa’s house, I could see my daughter and granddaughter on the porch. Lisa sat on a rocking chair with Callie on her lap, facing and clinging to her mother. With one glance, I knew Lisa was telling her at least part of what was going on. My heart was in my gut, but I also had a sense of relief as I wondered how much or little Lisa had decided to reveal. Lisa had to realize she wasn’t a young single girl in love. She was a grown woman, a mother with responsibility for her child that would never end. Callie deserved to be first, at the front of the line. If I had to keep reminding my daughter of this, so be it. She thought I was a kvetch anyway.
I would long for Callie terribly when I went home, miss waiting for the school bus to arrive. Callie jumping off. That first squeeze, wrapping her in my arms. Dinner with my granddaughter. Watching her imitate life with stuffed animals. And especially, tucking her in.
On the other hand, I missed my work, the chance to use my brain, the way a patient looked at me when I came to her aid. How good I felt when I solved someone’s problem. I thought about Doris. I wondered how she was doing. I decided to call her from Woodfield while giving Lisa the opportunity to speak to Callie. I stepped behind a stone wall, sat down on a bed of leaves. I felt young on those leaves. Sitting that way reminded me of my twenties on campus. How could that be practically fifty years ago? How could everyone in the generation before me—my parents, my aunts, my uncles—be gone? It was my tradition to light memorial candles in honor of those who had passed on. At first, I would light one candle in a small glass. I lit it for my bubbe . Then, a candle for Jake’s father. My dad. Jake’s mom. My mom. I had a bonfire going. It hurt to think about it.
“Rizzo,” I said. “Can you give me the number for Doris Barkan?”
“Of course. She called yesterday. She said to tell you her toe was much better, but her children still didn’t want her to move anywhere near them. I mentioned you were visiting your daughter. She said you should have gone to a spa instead.”
“I’m flying out tomorrow.”
“What? You miss us?” Rizzo asked.
“I really do.”
“That’s because here you’re a big shot with the toes. In the Berkshires, you’re Callie’s grandmother, Lisa’s mom. No one knows you there the way people do here.”
Even for Rizzo, she was being hard on me. “I’m happy to be a mom and a grandmother.”
“Good for you. Get back here. I’m sure it’s freezing there anyway.”
I dialed Doris. The answering machine had her late husband’s voice. She was not only still wearing his socks. She had never recorded a new message. “Hi, Doris. It’s your favorite foot doc. Rizzo told me you’re doing better.”
Doris clicked on. “I don’t answer the phone until I know who it is. The whole world is out to get old people. I will not be scammed.”
I smiled. Good old Doris.
After I hung up with Doris, Jake called me. He was on speakerphone. I could hear dishes clacking, and I assumed he was loading the washer in his overly organized way. The plates lined up as though in the army. If he had dishes to wash, it meant he was eating. So that was good.
“I hear saucers,” I said.
“The neighbor came over, and we had lunch.”
“Did Alex ever show up?”
“Briefly. The Pilgrim called him back to Plymouth Rock.”
“Lisa asked me to hang around longer.”
“Are you staying?”
“No. I have patients waiting for me. I can’t spare the time.”
“Understandable. Maybe in a month or so, we’ll fly back to Massachusetts and look for a place to live.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Because of the weather in winter?”
“Because, Jake, I want to stay in Florida.”
Dead air.
“Jake, I hope you can work out a plan for opening the inn with Lisa, but I’m too old to start over here, too young to give up on being who I am. I love my family, but it’s essential for me to have a life that’s mine and mine alone.”
“What about Callie?”
“I’m smart. I’ll find a way to be with Callie.”
“This won’t work for me. Do you understand?” he said, raising his pitch.
The next part was difficult for me to say. I spoke quickly, as though it would hurt him less if I said it fast. “Jake, you want to move because right now you’re discouraged and looking for an out.”
“Not true, Jodi. Do you want me to hang up?”
I reached deep inside myself, dug up the strength to stand my ground no matter his tone or what he had to say. “I’ve always been a good girl, met my parent’s expectations, followed their edicts. I married young and went along with your dreams. And although I’ve always had a career, we both know I put motherhood first. But I don’t have a lot of time left. From now on, I want to do what’s in my heart, make my own decisions, be my own boss. Back when you asked, I agreed to move south for you. Now I’m staying there for me.”
Was he breathing fire through the phone? It didn’t matter. I would determine where I would live for what could be the rest of my life.
“Jake?”
“Understood,” he said.
“Okay, then.”
Silence.
“Keep the light on. I’ll see you soon,” I said.
I placed the cell in my pocket, swallowed a breath, blew it out, closed my eyes. My head cleared. And I was at peace with myself.