8. Dallas
DALLAS
Lucy blinked her eyes open and remembered—with great alarm—that she had bought four plane tickets to Germany sometime in the middle of the night.
Jack was sound asleep on his dad’s side of the bed and the sight of him at peace, even temporarily, comforted her.
She sat up, found her phone, and saw she’d received her first message from Mason.
She skimmed it— A college kid! Wow… Did Mickey fix the pool drain?
—and then read it again from the beginning.
Mason was utterly, blissfully unaware of the crisis, which meant Lucy had to manage it all by herself, which made her all the more glad to be blowing town.
The doorbell rang, and the dogs jumped off the bed to see who was there. Lucy followed behind, noting that the whole house smelled like boiled shrimp.
Jack’s best friend, Rosie, was on the doorstep. Lucy was so pleased to see her, she stepped outside and wrapped her arms around her. It felt as if she were hugging an ironing board. The dogs circled her in happy greeting, licking Rosie’s fingers.
“Congratulations,” Lucy said, noticing a bit of celebratory graduation glitter in Rosie’s hair.
“I’m on my way to the airport,” Rosie said. She pointed to an idling car in front of the house. “My thing in New York starts tomorrow.”
Rosie’s “thing” was a summer internship with Hudson River Park. She would be a freshman at Brown in the fall. Her life was moving forward. Lucy did not begrudge her any success or happiness that came her way, but her big plans didn’t make Jack’s situation any easier to bear.
“I’m happy to see you,” Lucy said. The doormat was still wet under her bare feet, and she stepped back, opening the door wider.
But Rosie did not come in. She was fidgeting with the elastic band that was holding her braid together and would not look Lucy in the eye.
She cleared her throat. “Can you tell Jack I came to say goodbye?”
“Do you want me to get him?”
“No, that’s okay, maybe just tell him—” Rosie’s face crumpled as she started to cry.
Lucy tried again to bring her inside, at least to get her a tissue, but Rosie refused.
“Just tell him it’s so… unfair ,” she said.
“It was supposed to be funny. He didn’t mean anything bad by it, and then—how did that stupid list get out there?
” Rosie’s nose was running. “He won’t even answer my texts,” she said. “He’s my best friend, and he hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you at all,” Lucy said. “He’s just too upset to talk right now.”
Rosie wiped her face on her sleeve and then looked at Lucy for the first time. “What’s he going to do?”
“He’ll be fine,” Lucy said, nodding her head to feign confidence. “Don’t you worry.”
“Will you tell him…” Rosie was gasping, taking quick, jerky breaths between words. “Make sure he knows we’re friends,” she said, “no matter what. Tell him I’m sorry. And tell him I hope he’ll talk to me again when he can.” She turned around and rushed off to the car.
“Good luck,” Lucy called after her. “We love you!”
She felt relieved that, like Rosie, they also had a flight to catch, a place to go.
Lucy went back in the house to find the three identical cats and Lucy’s nonidentical twins in the kitchen.
“Tic, Tac, and Toe,” said Zoe with her mouth full of Cheerios.
“No cat wants to be called Tic,” said Alice. “And nobody at all wants to be called Toe.”
“Eenie, Meenie, and Miny,” said Zoe.
“Good morning,” Lucy said. “Are the grandparents up?”
“They’re packing,” Alice said.
“What if I were to tell you guys,” Lucy said, “that we need to pack today too?”
“Why?” said Alice. “Is Jack getting arrested?”
“Jack is not getting arrested,” said Lucy. “We’re just taking a little trip on a plane.”
“I don’t like planes,” said Zoe.
“Are we going to Costa Rica?” said Alice.
“Not this time,” said Lucy. “Somewhere better. Can you get the suitcases out of the hall closet upstairs? I need to go talk to Reenie.”
“In your pajamas?” said Alice.
Lucy looked down. “No one’s going to see me.”
“You always say that,” said Alice, “and someone always does.”
Lucy went out into the backyard, only to find that Alice was right as usual; Mickey, the man cleaning dead leaves out of the pool, waved as she walked by in her pajamas. She waved back.
He took off his headphones and nodded his chin at the rental tables. “Did you have a good party?” he said.
“Fewer people than expected,” she said. “Any interest in leftovers? I have enough steak and shrimp to feed an army.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” Mickey said.
“Ah,” said Lucy. “Never mind then. Is the pool drain working okay?”
But he’d already put his headphones back on and was bobbing his head to some beat as he ran the skimmer across the surface of the water.
She opened the gate in the fence between her parents’ lot and theirs.
The house Lucy grew up in was a 1940s bungalow with crepe myrtles lining the walkway to the street and a front door and shutters painted, as her mother liked to say, the color of Texas bluebonnets.
Lucy rarely saw the front of her parents’ house anymore.
When Mason came along, with his unwavering certainty, his love of kids and pets, and a vintage engagement ring, he bought the lot that abutted the backyard of her parents’ property and—with his brother’s architectural plans—built a modern, solar-powered house in the place of the one-story ranch that was there before.
Irene and Rex loved having them close by, but her mom had never forgiven them for building what she called the “Cruise Ship” on the other side of the fence.
Irene came out onto the patio to greet her, coffee in hand, her hair in curlers. “You look like crap,” she said.
“I barely slept.” Lucy sat down at the mottled glass table. “But I’m feeling a little better now actually because—”
“You need to take a nap today.”
“No nap,” Lucy said. “Too much to do.”
“It’s for the best the in-laws are leaving, under the circumstances,” Irene whispered, although there was no possible way anyone could overhear. She sat down next to Lucy and patted her leg.
“They’re not the only ones leaving,” Lucy said, thinking her plan just might sound unhinged in the light of day, while it had seemed like such a reasonable choice in the dead of night.
“We’re flying to Berlin today. The kids and I are spending the summer there, maybe longer.
I haven’t actually thought that far ahead. ”
“Excuse me?” Irene put her coffee down. “Germany? Have you lost your mind? You’re not even dressed, and you’re going to Germany ?”
“In, like, three hours,” Lucy said, checking her phone. “Two, actually. Plenty of time.”
“Lucy,” said her mom sternly, pushing back her chair. Irene did not like to go farther than LBJ Freeway if she didn’t absolutely have to. “You can’t do that.”
“But we have to,” Lucy said plainly.
“No, it’s too far. And what about the dogs? What about the cats?”
Rex came around from the garage then, carrying a ladder.
“What are you doing with that?” Lucy said.
“Gutters,” her dad said.
“Be careful.”
“Excuse me,” said Irene, snapping her fingers in front of Lucy’s face, “but you are the one who needs to be careful here.”
“What’s going on?” Rex said.
“Can you drive us to the airport in a couple of hours?” Lucy said. “We’re going away for the summer.”
“Sure.” He sounded relieved. “Great idea. Where’re you headed?”
“To Germany ,” her mom said, and then she turned on Lucy. “Why Germany?”
“Because I know it,” Lucy said. “And we sure as hell can’t stay here.”
“Who’s going to take care of all those animals you adopted?”
“I found a pet sitter,” Lucy said. “Sort of. A house sitter. I mean, people. German people. They’re coming to live here. In fact, they’re already on the way and should be arriving sometime tonight.”
“Who?” her dad said, abandoning the ladder against the side of the house.
“Who indeed?” Irene said. “I want to know who’s going to be on the other side of my fence.”
“Greta,” said Lucy. “Her name’s Greta.”
“Greta who?” said Irene.
“Greta…. She’s the sister of a friend. Or of a friend of a friend. I had a roommate in Germany who knew this girl named Bettina who spoke perfect English—”
“You don’t know her last name?” her dad said, now looking as concerned as her mom, who was shaking her head so hard, one of her curlers came loose.
“No,” Lucy said. “But I’ll find out.” How, Lucy wondered, were her parents still able to make her feel like a kid who hadn’t done her homework ?
Irene was pulling the rogue curler from her hair. “You’re going to have strangers move into your beautiful house?”
“Beautiful?” Lucy said. “You hate my house.”
“That’s beside the point,” said Irene. “How do you know they won’t trash the place?”
“Because we’ll be living in their apartment in Berlin. I take care of her home, she takes care of mine. It’s like a two-way hostage situation.” Lucy stood up, figuring it was high time to tell the kids the plan. “Do y’all want the graduation leftovers?”
“Lucy,” Irene said, getting up as well, her fists planted on her hips, “if you’re fixing to go through with this terrible idea, you’ve got a lot to do.
” And she began counting on her fingers.
“You’ve got to empty your closets, put clean sheets on the beds, stock up on pet food, clean the cat boxes and guinea pig cage, empty your night table drawers and bathroom cabinets, hide your valuables, and—”
“I know all this,” Lucy said, although half the things her mother had listed hadn’t even registered until now.
“Are they using your cars?” Rex said.
“I guess,” said Lucy.
“And vacuum your cars,” said Irene. “You need to pick up Alice’s allergy meds—”
“Are your passports valid?” her dad said.
“Yes,” Lucy said, proud she’d managed to find them.
“That’s the most important thing,” he said. “Passports and a credit card.”
“What are you going to tell your bosses?” said Irene. “You love that job, you’ve been working so hard to prove yourself to them.”
Lucy had hoped she wouldn’t ask. She’d given little thought to the content or form of Monday’s presentation, or how she was going to keep her bosses from finding out she’d fled the country.
“I’m not going to tell them anything. I work remotely anyway,” she said, trying not to hyperventilate.
“So they won’t even know I’m out of town. ”
“There’s a time difference,” Irene said, stepping toward her. “A big time difference.”
“I know that,” said Lucy. “How many hours?”
“Eight?” said her father. “Nine?”
“Have you told Mason you’re leaving the country?” Irene said.
“Satellite snafu,” said Lucy, wishing she could talk to him, wishing he were going with them. “I can’t reach him.”
“If there’s one thing about Mason,” Irene said, “he’s a very good problem solver. Maybe you should hold off—”
“I’m a good problem solver too,” Lucy said.
She was sure Mason would admire her gumption.
When Mason and Lucy had first met, he was not put off by the fact that she was a single mom living at her parents’ house.
Rather, he’d invited himself over for dinner, bringing flowers for her mom and a Lego set for Jack.
Six months later he proposed at the Mansion and offered to adopt Jack in the same breath. She’d said yes to both.
“All right then,” said Irene. “Let’s start on the house. Rex, the gutters will have to wait.”
Her dad picked up the ladder and carried it back to the garage.
“Are you really sure this is what you want to do?” Irene said.
“This isn’t about me,” Lucy said. “This is for Jack.”
But whether her excitement was coming more from a need to flee Dallas for Jack’s sake or from her own desire to go back to Berlin, she couldn’t say.
It was okay, she decided, if it was both.
Two hours later, Lucy wheeled her suitcase out of her bedroom. They were late, and everyone else was waiting in the car. The house was quiet for the first time all day.
She quickly reread the email she’d drafted to Greta in German, proud she’d been able to retrieve so many words after all these years: Leber Greta , it began.
Mein zwiebeln, Sonne, und mich fruenen uns Berlin fahren und leben in dein wohnung.
Ich hoffe all gehts gut fur du und das Vieh hier in Dallas.
Wir haben sex Schlafzimmer, so es gibt viel spa? fur du und dein Mann hier.
Wenn du Frage habe über mein Haus, mein Autos, mein Putzfrau (bezahlt schon bei mich), oder meine Nackt b?rin, sag es mir. Frohliche Haus-svappung! Tschuss!
She was worried she was forgetting something. After two sleepless nights, she was not thinking very clearly and had almost poured cat litter in Piglet’s guinea pig cage.
Her father honked the horn in the driveway.
Lucy hit send.
She did one fast, final walk-through. She hadn’t done all she should to get the house ready for the Germans, but she hoped it was good enough.
Piglet was hiding in his little plastic shelter, so she couldn’t say goodbye to him.
On the floor by the front door, she found Zoe’s stuffed rabbit, Fred, left behind as usual; she picked him up and put him in her carry-on bag on top of Mason’s phone and wallet, which she’d felt an urge to keep near her.
She kissed the dogs and shut the front door.
Just before getting in the car, she stopped at the curb and threw a black garbage bag containing every manner of trash from broken pool toys to old cosmetics to expired ketchup—even Jack’s cap and gown—in the bin.