Chapter 21
W hen I woke up again, it was late morning and my body felt spent from being seized all night, jaw sore, a headache forming at my temples.
I had to get out of this house and keep busy, and the ocean popped into my head.
Benny’s month of yes meant I had to follow the urges I had, so when I went downstairs and suggested brunch and a walk on The Strand in Manhattan Beach, Benny was already up the stairs getting ready and Mom was begging to tag along.
We were out the door and in the car within twenty minutes.
“See what incredible things you can do when you’re not always thinking about work and getting the next promotion and trying to get ahead?” Benny crooned from the back seat. “Eggs Benny on the beach on a beautiful Saturday. What would you be doing back in San Francisco?”
“If I were back home, I’d be working. That’s what I did on the weekend. I caught up on work.”
“Well, you must have really loved your job,” Mom said. “I’m sorry you got laid off. You’ll find something else you love. I’m certain of it.”
Had I loved my job? That never mattered to me.
Following your passions was a way to be broke and starving.
I watched Mom try to be an artist and fail, so that never appealed to me.
Sure, we were never destitute and Mom really did handle it, but I never could get over my fear that, one day, it would all fall apart.
So, I simply figured out what practical work I could be good at that was also lucrative.
I didn’t want to struggle and I wanted to achieve so much that I never needed to worry again, safely ensconced in the embrace of financial solvency and a plan that left nothing up to chance.
Loving my job wasn’t part of that equation.
It never occurred to me that even the most certain bets were still a gamble. Here I was, jobless and single, holding up the scraps of a Life Plan that had fallen apart just as easily as a life of risk and chance and luck and passion.
“I just like working,” I told them, my identity so well-worn and grooved I couldn’t seem to shift it. “That’s all. I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong by wanting to be responsible and hardworking.”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with that,” Mom said. We were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 405, inching forward with everyone else who wanted to head south on a cloudless, sunny Saturday morning. “Have I ever made you feel like that was wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe?”
“I only wanted to lighten you up sometimes, Charlie,” Mom replied. “Take the pressure off that you so obviously had on your shoulders. I just wanted to give you possibilities.”
“I never understood how you could deal with rejection so much,” I said by way of some sort of explanation.
“Or Dad leaving. Or any of it. To me, I looked at you and thought, she should live more carefully. More boxed in. You kept opening yourself up over and over. How? Love, wanting things, is just... painful.”
Mom seemed to still, her face scrunched in thought, her hands wringing the steering wheel.
“Charlie, you think you get to choose whether you love or not,” Mom said. “You either close yourself off to love or you don’t. Those are the only options. There is so much unspent love inside you. It still exists. You just use so much energy trying not to feel it. But where does it go?”
“I just think it’s easier to not deal with emotions at all,” I replied flatly.
Mom paused again. The radio was set to a low volume and it was the only noise in the car.
She maneuvered into the carpool lane, which was moving marginally faster than the other six lanes of the freeway.
She was always cool under pressure. Driving in LA could turn anyone into a maniac, yet she remained calm.
I had seen Mom fall apart many times before, but it was less of a rage and more of a withdrawal from life.
I had always watched those moments and thought—this was what happened when you opened yourself up, you end up flat out on the bed, comatose and disengaged. God, I had hated seeing her cry.
Mom took in a deep inhale, and when she spoke, her voice was shaky.
It made me sit up straighter. “It’s easier to give up,” she said.
“Live behind walls and be guarded. I think about giving up a lot. Of course I do. But I just have this stubborn belief that life is meant to be lived . We’re not meant to be perfect or even happy all the time.
The reason joy can feel so incredible is because we know the absence of it.
Everything exists in contrast. If I stop being open to pain, I stop being open to all the other things I love about life.
I hate being rejected. I wish my career had taken off already.
But I refuse to not try . I refuse to close myself off to life.
It’s not because I’m stronger or anything.
I just make a choice over and over to endure it. ”
I sat back in my seat like I’d had the breath knocked out of me. It was not the answer I had expected. She had been relentlessly positive when I was growing up. But this... this was wisdom. This was learned wisdom, and I had no idea how to respond to it.
There wasn’t anything left to say. Mom knew what she had dropped in this car.
She turned up the radio. I knew the conversation was done. She knew it was, too. We’d begin again when we got to Manhattan Beach.
I pulled out my phone and texted Alex the first thing that popped into my mind. No overthinking or withdrawing.
hi, so i can’t wait for monday. can’t wait to see you. just wanted you to know that. hope your day is going well, perry.
Surprisingly, the typing bubble appeared immediately.
you can’t see me, but i have the stupidest smile on my face. is it monday yet? maybe you should come to the restaurant after we close on sunday night. give it a good send off? i’ll make you a late dinner.
Something fizzy erupted inside my body like glittery fireworks going off.
now i’m the one smiling like an idiot. i’ll be there.
He texted me back with a time and I locked my phone and put it in the cup holder.
“I’m seeing Alex tomorrow night,” I said. “I guess we couldn’t wait until Monday. He’s cooking me dinner at the restaurant.”
“That is so sexy,” Benny said. “I am living vicariously.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We will be getting into your love life at brunch. Be ready.”
She laughed and sat back, but I knew she was pleased.
When I looked over at Mom, she had a peaceful smile on her face.
“Good,” she said to me. “You have but one short wild ride on this earth, Charlotte. All I want is to see you give it all you’ve got.”
I didn’t immediately shut her down, and when “Alone” by Heart started playing, all three of us theatrically sang every single word at the top of our lungs as if we were a Heart tribute band performing at a sold-out club.