Chapter Fourteen Kelsey, Once More #2
“Thanks. I’m so glad to see you, Jane! So much to catch up on, so much going on. Actually, I’m kind of a fucking mess for real now!”
They sat on the floor by Kelsey’s artificial Christmas tree, sorting and boxing ornaments. Kelsey was committed to participating in the entire process today.
“It’s so pathetic that our tree is still up and we’re almost at the end of February, isn’t it?”
“No, if you love Christmas—why not let it linger?”
“Exactly!” Kelsey shrieked. “I can’t deal with the end of the holidays.
I love when the kids are out of school and there’s coziness everywhere.
Anyway, it’s sort of my kids’ fault for insisting on a fake tree, they last forever.
My kids are so green, it’s nuts, and makes me feel like—I’m never going to be green enough for them—they insisted we get an artificial tree this year and I gave in, even though I love the smell of the real ones.
I probably let my kids bully me because I’m overcompensating for what a control freak my mother was, but what can you do? ”
“Our parents really fuck us up, don’t they?”
“Yes! It’s the circle of life!” Kelsey exclaimed with a giggle.
“I suppose at a certain point we have to stop blaming them for how messed up we are.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but it’s so much easier and so much more fun to just blame my mother. I mean—I see my kids, they’re all stockpiling things to blame me for when they’re adults—it’s the circle of life!”
“I’m sure your kids adore you,” Jane reassured her.
“Yeah, they better, I let them get away with murder. You know, I could so easily leave the tree up forever. I love Christmas, so why not? But that’s a bit demented, so... I knew you were the one to force me to get this done.”
The tree, which was over ten feet tall, was blanketed with ornaments.
A real tree probably wouldn’t have been able to bear the weight.
While Kelsey took the ornaments down, Jane sorted them by category—spheres, stars, snowflakes, Santas, reindeer, candy canes, gingerbread houses.
Some were crystal and clearly pricey; others were the mass-produced ones available at big-box stores for a dollar.
“At some point, I should run out and pick up the storage boxes made expressly for ornaments, that’ll be the tidiest way to store them.”
“Yes! See I totally need you. So Jane, did you notice?”
“Notice what?”
Kelsey held up her ring finger, which bore a platinum band with a rock almost large enough to be an ornament on the glitzy tree. Somehow Jane, who invariably seemed to fixate on the diamond-encrusted Tiffany cross nestled between Kelsey’s ample breasts, had missed it.
“Kelsey, congratulations!”
“Thank you! When you were last here, I’d just started seeing him, and it kept getting better and better—and hotter and hotter. We are totally in love! It all happened super fast, but you know, when it feels right, it’s right.”
“I know.”
“I only wish he had gotten gold rather than platinum for the band, so it would match my cross.”
Kelsey lifted the bejeweled cross out of her cleavage and held the ring next to it.
“They look great together. Do you have a date?”
“Yes, June! So it’s going to be a mad rush!” Kelsey announced with a gleeful shrug. “Now what’s been going on with your man?”
Kelsey, standing on a stepladder, reached for a glittering sled high on the tree. Jane was worried she might topple.
“Not much. We’re still figuring it all out,” Jane answered.
Kelsey stepped off the ladder and handed Jane a tiny sled. Little flecks of glitter stuck to their fingers.
“Do you want it to work out?” Kelsey asked.
Jane, deflecting, scrutinized the sled. “I would get rid of this one for sure, it’s shedding glitter.”
“Agree, that’s an easy decision,” Kelsey said brightly, then gave Jane a disarmingly trenchant look. “If you want it to work out, I hope it does. And if you want it, I’m sure it will.”
Packing up the ornaments had taken quite a long time, but Kelsey stuck it out. She was much more energetic than usual; there was no talk of migraines or Fiorinal. Was this a byproduct of being in love?
They were eating Chinese chicken salads from Mendocino Farms on the floor by the now-bare fake tree.
“We were going to have a destination wedding, but it was too hard on such short notice, so we’re doing it in Malibu, but then we’re having two honeymoons—one just for us, and then one with my kids and his kids, which we’re calling a familymoon.”
“That’s so sweet of you to do a familymoon. I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“I might have invented it. I should probably trademark it or something. Maybe I should invite my mother to make it a full-blown clusterfuck!”
“Really?”
“Oh god no. I’m not even sure she’s coming to the wedding.”
“Are you inviting her?” Jane asked.
“I have to invite her to the wedding, but the familymoon—probably not.” Kelsey took the tiniest bites of her salad, sometimes spearing a single shred of lettuce on her fork.
“How would you feel about some non-organizing advice?”
“Go for it,” Kelsey replied without any hesitation.
“Invite your mother. Why not? It’s like an olive branch. She’ll be grateful.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right. If only I didn’t hate her guts and if she hadn’t already dished my fiancé and had her lawyer call me to recommend I do a prenup.”
“Isn’t your father a divorce lawyer?”
“Yes, and he would never get involved in this sort of thing.”
“Really?” Jane asked, lifting a tiny Kelsey-size forkful of salad to her mouth.
“Because he deals with family dramas at work all day, he avoids it outside of work at all costs so he can spend all his free time collecting Porsches and hot young babes. His new girlfriend is way younger than me. So sometimes it’s weird.
I mean, she’s gorgeous—I just hope she doesn’t upstage me at the wedding, and that my mom doesn’t go nuclear. Anyway, my dad is a total sweetheart.”
Jane wished she could peel away Kelsey’s layers of pain, compact them into little balls, then box them up with the ornaments.
“I get it. That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. But you’re right, Jane. What the hell? Why not add my mother, too?”
It was midafternoon when they finally got to the garage.
There were no cars in it, only hulking piles of jumbo-size household goods and pantry items purchased from Costco: toilet paper, paper towels, bottled water, bleach, detergent, cans of tuna, beans, corn, chili, jars of spaghetti sauce, packages of pasta.
Costco: the apotheosis of American gluttony and excess, but also of American ingenuity and thrift.
It looked as if Kelsey were stockpiling for Armageddon.
“Did you just buy all of this?”
“Yes. Jane, some of my friends who are, like, smart about this shit, said this bird flu thing is going to get crazy.”
“I don’t think it’s the bird flu. It’s a new virus.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what it’s called exactly, it doesn’t seem like anyone does, but I want to be ready in case, you know—I have heard people saying we could have lockdowns and quarantine and all kinds of insane stuff, so I figured better safe than sorry.”
“Then the question is, do you want to be able to use your garage to park cars, or do you want to turn it into a giant pantry?”
“I would like to be able to get our cars in... hmmm... I need more shelving on the walls, and then I’m sure there is a bunch of junk in here I could get rid of.... You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
Kelsey looked at her expectantly. She genuinely seemed to want Jane’s approval.
“Not at all. Better safe than sorry, right?”
While Jane was shelving cartons of chicken stock, Prudence walked in from the driveway. Mr. Cuddles followed her cheerfully, tongue hanging out, even though he was strapped into one of those dog wheelchairs that propped up his hindquarters, his rear legs dangling helplessly.
“Prudence, look who’s here!” Kelsey called out.
“Hi, Jane. It’s always a total organizing emergency here, right?” Prudence said, rolling her eyes.
“No, not really,” Jane replied. “What happened to poor Mr. Cuddles?”
“His hips are totally arthritic, and he can’t walk without that. It’s really heartbreaking, but...” Kelsey was fighting tears. “I don’t know what else we can do, it’s not like there is a good hip replacement for dogs.”
Jane squatted down and petted Mr. Cuddles.
“He is a sweet boy. I’m sorry, it must be hard.”
“So hard!”
Kelsey reflexively pivoted to something lighter. “Hey, Prudence, show Jane the TikTok we did!”
Prudence groaned.
“Really, Mom?”
“What? It’s good! Show her.”
Prudence grudgingly took her phone out of her pocket and opened the app.
TikTok was the latest social media scourge.
Perhaps the worst thing about this new and entirely useless social media platform was that it made Jane feel old.
Things burgeoned so quickly online, be it conspiracy theories or TikTok dances.
Jane was only in her early thirties but felt that the world was moving at a frenetically disorienting pace.
All the more reason to cling to those things—to those people—that made you feel moored.
As Prudence hit the play icon and held out her phone, Kelsey sidled up to them, resting her chin on Prudence’s shoulder.
The music was a Cardi B deep cut that Jane didn’t recognize.
At the start of the video, Kelsey stood a few feet behind Prudence as they busted out some perfectly synchronized hip-hop moves, shoulders rolling, hips gyrating.
They took turns lip-synching the lyrics, and as Kelsey moved forward, Prudence moved back.
All in fifteen seconds. They both looked so happy.
Jane suspected that maybe underneath it all, Prudence really did have as much adoration for her mother as contempt.
After all, the two often went hand in hand.
“You guys are great! You look like you’re having so much fun.”
Prudence shrugged.