Chapter 27
Q uestion,” I said, about to take a bite out of a chopped salad so good I was trying to parse out the ingredients in the dressing in my head. “How do you feel about going to Disneyland with Alex and me this week?”
Mom, Benny, and I were sitting at a long family-style table at a well-known café in Studio City, all three of us eating the chopped salad they were known for.
There were also three desserts in front of us.
We’d ordered carrot cake, an apricot bar, and a brownie, declaring that we’d split them.
It was so typical Triple Quinn that I felt nostalgic about it.
Ordering the exact same meal and then wanting three different desserts.
Everything had to be the same, or equal.
“Disneyland?” Benny gasped. “Your idea or his?”
“Mine,” I said, smiling.
“Mom, seriously, what happened to Charlie? She’s borderline whimsical!”
“Let her be, Benny,” Mom said, lightly chastising. “We knew she’d come around eventually.”
That irked me. I was getting pretty tired of them both acting like they had it all together and I was the only messed up one.
“Can you not say stuff like that, Mom?” I asked. “It’s very ‘I told you so’ and condescending.”
“Charlie,” Benny warned.
“No, Benny, let me say this,” I told her calmly.
“I know I can change some things about myself. I get it. But you don’t have to act like you’ve been sitting around talking about and pitying me.
It doesn’t feel good, actually. I could talk about both of your flaws, too.
This is how it felt growing up with you two, like I was the odd one out.
I don’t like it. There are a lot of great things about me, too, that if given the chance, I wouldn’t change. ”
It was as though I were realizing this as I said it and it felt good to express myself, to tell them both exactly how I felt without getting worked up or running away from the conversation.
Benny looked like she was about to launch into something, but Mom cut in first.
“Charlie, you’re right,” Mom said. “You’re absolutely right.
I am so proud of you. Have I told you that lately?
You went to an incredible college, paid your way, and graduated with honors.
You can be absolutely whoever you want to be and it wouldn’t change how much I love you.
Do I want to see you smile? Laugh? Experience some joy alongside all those accomplishments?
Of course I do. I love seeing you happy, Charlie.
But there’s nothing wrong with you. Ever.
You got that? We love you exactly how you are.
” Mom wiped away a tear and smiled hesitantly.
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Benny said, head and voice low.
“I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just having fun.
I miss you, you know? You were my whole world growing up.
You were magic. You were the best big sister ever.
All my friends were jealous of Triple Quinn.
And then you went to college and when you came back. ..”
“You didn’t really come back,” Mom said gently. “Our Charlie left for college and never came back. Of course, we sit around and talk about you. We love you so much it hurts.”
Mom was right, but I couldn’t tell her that.
I couldn’t even fully identify why I didn’t want to tell her about Noah, why I couldn’t discuss it with Benny, or anyone.
Maybe I felt ashamed for how deeply and quickly I fell.
Embarrassed. And how could I explain spending years not telling her, about him, about what happened, about everything?
She loved me; I felt that. I knew she did.
Maybe there was a part of me that understood once you open that box, there’s no putting it back.
There was so much wrapped up in Noah and that time of my life that to unravel it now... Well, I felt like I’d entirely unravel myself if I went there.
“Thank you for understanding,” I said, because there was so much to give in the way of an explanation, but all I could do was withhold it from her. There was no telling how she’d react or what she’d say.
“ Soooooo , anyway,” Benny cooed. “Disneyland? Yeah, I’m in. I haven’t been since we were kids and I threw up and cried on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad.”
“I remember that,” Mom said. “Petra and I were exhausted.”
“Benny got scared on the Jungle Cruise, too,” I said, chuckling. “She thought the crocodile was real.”
“The only kid that hated Disneyland,” Mom said. “I never took you girls again because of it.”
“Excuse me,” Benny said, indignant. “I was six years old, and that crocodile violently chomped at me. How was I to know that it was animatronic?”
“You screamed so loud the other kids started crying, too,” I said, laughing.
“Seriously traumatic event for all involved,” Mom said, laughing now, too.
“What can I say?” Benny replied, in a flourish. “I was born to be the drama.”
Mom and I caught eyes and rolled them together, then laughed again.
We resumed eating and then finished our chopped salads at the same time, setting them aside. Mom started divvying up the desserts, so eventually all of us had a plate with the same combination of threes.
“Mom, do you want to come?” I asked her.
She looked at me and blinked, like maybe she hadn’t expected the invitation to include her. It made my chest constrict.
“You don’t mind?” she asked. “Maybe you kids want to enjoy it alone.”
“It would be really fun if you came,” I said. “Hopefully Benny will be less of a scaredy-cat this time.” I eyed Benny and she sent me an exaggerated angry face.
“I was six,” she said, deadpan. “I think I can handle an animatronic crocodile now.”
“Can you, Ben?” I quipped. “Can you?”
“I’ll try to be brave,” she said sarcastically.
“Come on, Mom,” I said. “Invite Petra. We’ll have a do-over.”
“Okay,” she said, looking pleased. “I’d love to come. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Yay,” Benny and I cried out at the same time.
I took a bite from the brownie and pointed to it, making an mmm-hmm sound.
“Damn, that’s the best brownie I’ve ever had,” I said.
“It is,” Benny said. “But we need details about Alex. Immediately. We just skipped right over it.”
“Yeah,” Mom said, through a mouthful of carrot cake. “Spill.”
I blushed so hard I had to cover my face with my hands. When I peered at them both across from me through my slotted fingers, they were smiling broadly, waiting.
“Oh, my God,” Benny said. “You’re smitten. You’re swooning!”
“He’s...” I started, not even knowing how to describe it. “He’s better than the crush. He’s...” I sighed like I was in a Jane Austen novel “... lovely.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you smile quite like this before,” Mom said.
“Is it something real?” Benny asked. “What will happen when you both leave LA?”
“It ends,” I told her. “It’s not real. We have a rule. It ends in a month. No strings.”
“What?” Benny cried out, aghast. “Why?”
“Because I’m not falling in love,” I said.
“Again, I ask, why?” Benny demanded.
“He’s going to Chicago. I’m going back to San Francisco. I don’t want any complications.”
“That’s very pragmatic of you,” Mom said, but I could tell she was holding back. Mom wasn’t one to appreciate pragmatism.
“I know you think I should just say fuck it and risk everything for him,” I said to her.
“Actually,” Mom replied, “I don’t. Love is fickle and I think you need to be careful who you give your heart to.
Not everybody needs to end up with someone.
Men are... tricky. And relationships are hard.
You can’t just follow your heart when it comes to love.
That’s a great way to break and spend years piecing yourself back together. ”
My eyes went wide, and when I looked to Benny, her mouth was open in shock. It was perhaps the most unlikely thing that Jackie Quinn could say.
“Did something happen, Mom?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “What hasn’t happened with me and love? I’m alone, aren’t I? I expected I’d find someone by this time. But no. I get close and then I get left. It would be better for me if I had some of that pragmatism. My hopeless romantic self has gotten burned so many times.”
“Mom,” I said. “I had no idea. Does this have to do with the man you told us about the other day?”
“Him,” she said, shrugging. “And all the others.”
She sounded like the kind of person I wanted her to be for years—cautious, realistic, practical—and yet hearing her sound so defeated made my stomach sink with dread.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, sitting up straighter.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m an actress. Sometimes I get dramatic.
I pour all that pain into my auditions. But you just do what you think is best, Charlie.
Don’t give your heart away too easily. And I think this rule of yours is very smart.
You have no idea if Alex and you would ever work out and given my track record, I’m guessing it probably won’t. ”
Benny and I exchanged another wide-eyed look of disbelief.
“What happened, Mom?” I asked.
“He went back to his ex-wife,” she said. “Always the bridesmaid, right?”
“You’ll find—” Benny began, but Mom stopped her.
“Maybe I won’t,” she said. “And that’s fine.
The Universe works in mysterious ways. I’m being overemotional.
” She laughed dryly. “I know how much you hate that, Charlie. Let’s change the subject, girls.
Where to, next? Should we go to LACMA and see what new art they have?
I need to look at some beautiful things. ”
“Okay,” I said, wanting to say more, but so caught off guard I didn’t even know what to do.
“Let’s do it,” Benny said, in a faux-enthusiastic voice. It was too high-pitched and forced. I could tell her world had just been rocked as well.
Even at Mom’s lowest points when I was younger, she’d always believed that it was all going to work out for her, that eventually she’d get every last thing she wanted.
I’d never in my life heard her question that or applaud being realistic or risk-averse.
Even through tears, she’d maintained faith.
It used to inspire me, before it started to infuriate me.
The idea that I had somehow rubbed off on her made me sick with nausea. Unexpectedly, I wanted my positive, upbeat mom back with such a vengeance that it shook me to my very core.
We finished our desserts, got in the car, and drove in relative silence to LACMA, where we looked at art and spoke in hushed whispers about all the beautiful pieces.
I tried to get her mind off her disappointment, because if my mom was anything like me—and it seemed like maybe she was, more than I ever thought—a distraction was exactly what she needed.