Twenty-Nine #2
“Not upset, but things will change.” She sighed.
“I’ll always love Peter, and I know rationally that Roger would never expect me to spend my life mourning him, but it feels like the end of something.
” She gave Valerie’s shoulder a pat. “That’s why I was so glad to meet you this summer.
If anyone deserves a family, it’s him. Don’t worry about Penny.
She may think she’s the boss of the Badgertons since Malcolm died, but she’s not the boss of you. ”
“Thanks, Alice.”
“Any time.”
Alice went for some air as Fernie wandered by, a glass of white wine in her hand. Occasionally she would grab someone and break into the strange dance she’d been doing back at the cottage, then show them her phone.
“What’s with the turbo-charged tai chi?” Dalia asked as they watched Fernie twist around.
That’s what she was doing. How had Valerie not recognized it? Fernie caught sight of them and came over.
“Soulvinate is catching on,” she said in a stage whisper, showing them her phone screen. Valerie saw Soulvinate in a script that looked vaguely Thai, along with a photo of Fernie photoshopped into a temple lit with neon lights. “I’ve got a bunch of people following me already.”
Dalia squinted. “Is that Angkor Wat?”
Fernie shrugged. “I told AI to do a famous temple but make it cool. It doesn’t matter; they’re all basically the same.”
“Is Soulvinate your version of tai chi?” asked Valerie to confirm.
“I told you it needed revitalizing! You should see my follower count since I started. Everyone wants the secrets of the East but for modern life, and no one has time for the old boring stuff.” Fernie scanned her face with a critical eye.
“Soulvinate helps improve dull complexions, by the way. It optimizes blood circulation.”
Dalia watched her go. “The terrible thing is that I can already see the Soulvinate classes on offer at specialty gyms.”
So could Valerie. Dalia left to check the food as Valerie walked around the edges of the room, making sure it was all going according to plan.
Ten minutes until speeches, and after that she could relax.
Any time participants were required to take action through speaking, a procession, or dancing meant something to pay extra attention to.
Her phone rang. It was her mother and she moved outside to a corner of the patio where it was quiet but she could still keep an eye on things.
“Bad news, Val. Erica’s planner fell through. Luckily, it’s the early stages, but you know how Erica gets when things don’t work out.”
She did, and she also knew how her mother had been there to catch her stepsister every time a plan had fallen through or she’d met a minor obstacle. “That’s too bad,” she said. “The wedding is a year away, though.”
“I told her you’d do it. It’ll keep you busy since you gave up on Aurora, and save Erica trouble.”
This time, Valerie didn’t bother to correct her about the name.
She looked out over the marina at the boats lined up in white rows.
A month ago, she would have been grateful for her mother’s belief that she could be trusted to plan Erica’s wedding.
She thought back to what Nico said about saying no.
“I didn’t give up Ad Astra.”
“I assumed you did.”
Like she always did. “I’m sorry,” Valerie said. “I can’t.”
“Surely you can help your sister, Val.”
Valerie steeled herself and breathed in through her nose to steady the flutter of her heart. “No,” she said. “Erica has the list of planners I suggested in the first place, and any of them would be suitable. She can call them.” She had done it. She had said no.
“Valerie! I thought I raised you better than this.” Her mother sounded shocked. “Are you serious? Erica needs you.”
Nico was right. Sometimes no wasn’t enough for the situation. She felt an intense desire to try to make her mother understand. “I am. Mom, you never call me unless it’s for Erica. You never talk to me unless you want my help with something.”
“That’s not true,” her mother said immediately. “I texted on your birthday.”
Valerie let that go. “When I told you I was taking a break from Ad Astra, you weren’t supportive. When Erica dropped out of school for a year, you were all sympathy and offers to help.”
“You never wanted my help,” exclaimed her mother. “You only wanted to be there for others, ever since you were a child. You loved it and we could always depend on you to not be a bother.”
The stress of setting up this event smashed Valerie’s usual agreeableness out of the way. She was suddenly furious and ready to let it out. “Because that’s the only way you’d pay attention to me! You were so busy with Erica and Justin that you never checked in with me.”
“Did you say any of this to your father?”
“I’m saying it to you.” Perhaps she would one day. Or not. It might not be fair, but it felt different with her mother.
Her mother sighed. “I’m sorry to hear you think that,” she said.
Valerie waited for something more. “Okay?” she said finally.
“What do you want me to say?” asked her mother. “I did my best.”
Valerie wanted to stamp her feet. “Did you, Mom? That was your best? For me or for your new family?”
“Val, enough. I’ll tell Erica you won’t be able to plan her wedding,” said her mother, her tone conciliatory. “You don’t need to give her a hand. Is that better?”
They hung up, and although Valerie had said what she wanted, she didn’t have the cathartic satisfaction of knowing the other person had heard. That her mother understood. Perhaps she never would.
Perhaps it wasn’t her job to help her mother through it after all, and she needed to focus on herself.
She leaned against the wall for a moment, reliving the conversation until her phone alarm chimed softly to indicate it was time for people to say a few words. Right. She had a responsibility to Helena’s family and it was time to compartmentalize and focus.
Valerie went back in and turned off the screen that had been silently showing The Sound of Music—Helena’s favorite film, since Valerie couldn’t get any family home movies on such short notice—and stopped the complete works of Andrew Lloyd Webber that had been playing softly in the background.
Instead of risking the haunting experience of inviting people up to the mic and having no takers, Helena’s daughter had been asked to hand-pick a few people to talk about different aspects of her mother’s life.
The rest of the room had been invited to text their stories to a special website Nico had set up or write them down on the slips of paper she’d scattered on all the tables, which would be gathered up and given to the family to read at their leisure.
She gave Helena’s eldest daughter the signal to speak.
“Mom used to say laughter was better than tears,” said her daughter, a middle-aged woman with the same bright blue eyes that shone out from photos of Helena. “She’d be glad that’s how we’re remembering her today.”
Valerie watched the crowd and let the fight with her mother drift away in her delight with how things were going. This was why she loved this kind of work. She loved the stories people were telling and the connections they were making.
This is what Ad Astra, and Valerie, was meant to do.