Chapter 30 #2
In business, we’re trained to embrace failures as future successes, but I’ve never really failed before.
It fucking sucks.
I don’t like this feeling at all.
I collapse onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
I will allow myself five solid minutes to feel sorry for myself, and then I will get up and come up with another plan.
I cover my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm when another sneezing fit comes on.
I’m experiencing mild sensitivity due to a lack of exposure to canine dander.
My immune system is recalibrating. It’s a perfectly normal adaptive response. I’ll be fine.
Did I eat today?
I don’t think I did.
When I go back downstairs, I find Mrs. Montgomery in the kitchen, staring at the floor, one hand on her hip, one covering her mouth.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She is startled, but she’s so happy to see me. “Oh, Johnny! Are you okay? Were you talking to Olivia?”
“Yes. Yes, we spoke. Her flight leaves in an hour. She’s just fine. We’re… She’s fine.” I clear my throat. And then I cough. And then I sneeze.
“Oh dear.”
“It’s just allergies.”
“What are you allergic to?”
“Failure.”
“What have you failed at?”
I sigh and shove my hands into the pockets of my pants. “Understanding your daughter.”
She gives me a knowing look. “Sounds like I’d better make you some soup.”
“Okay.”
“And there’s leftover zucchini-banana bread! Would you like me to heat it up for you?”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you. Yes.” The banana-zucchini bread does get better as it gets older.
“You two had a fight?” she asks while taking the bread out of the microwave. As if it’s not the end of the world.
“Not exactly. I don’t think?”
She leads me over to the kitchen table. It’s the same table I sat at with Nathan so many mornings, whenever we weren’t allowed to eat while watching TV.
I learned about family at this table. I learned about Olivia’s eating habits at this table.
I know I will learn something important at this table today—I just don’t know what it is yet.
Steph Montgomery places a mug that says Mama needs some coffee in front of me, as well as a plate of the bread she made for me, and I realize that it never even occurred to me to call my parents yesterday or today or to go to their house to be with them.
And they never called me. They just emailed to confirm they’d be at the restaurant for the event.
That really fucking sucks too.
My eyes are a little moist, and my lower lip seems to be quivering. Probably because I’m so hungry. I’ll have to learn how to control that.
Mrs. Montgomery smiles her lovely warm smile and rests her chin in her hands, her elbows on the tabletop.
“Oh, Johnny. It’ll be okay. You know, all I’ve ever wanted for my girl was that she’d find someone who loves and adores her and is as dedicated to her as she is to dancing.
And guess what? She met you even before she took her first ballet class. ”
I nod, trying to swallow a bite of bread, but there’s a lump in my throat and my mouth is dry. I start choking. It’s not a good look. Mrs. Montgomery gets me a glass of water and waits for me to get control of my fucking body, which apparently doesn’t work anymore if Olivia isn’t near it.
“Better?” she asks kindly.
“Better.”
She goes back to the stove, where she’s heating up a can of soup.
I blurt out, “I can’t think straight anymore when it comes to your daughter, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Then don’t think straight,” she says with a shrug. “Think in circles. Think in swerves. Or don’t think at all.”
Think in circles? Think in swerves? That last thing is impossible. But the other concepts are intriguing.
“I think I might have messed up.”
“You didn’t treat her badly, did you?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” she says. “That’s usually what all fights are, in the beginning.”
“I hope it’s just the beginning.”
This is my chance to ask Steph Montgomery what I could never ask my own parents.
“How do you do it? How does marriage work?”
“Ah. Well.” She turns off the burner and ladles some soup into a bowl.
“Every marriage is different, of course. But I think what makes marriage work is you’re forced to try to work things out.
When two people are committed to living together.
When you get curious instead of defensive.
When you slow down and pay attention and see the person you love is hurt, that they aren’t just trying to hurt you.
It’s amazing what can happen if you give it time. ”
“Do you and Mr. Montgomery have fights? If you don’t mind my asking.”
She laughs and waves her hand dismissively as she brings the bowl of soup over to me, putting it on one of the placemats that are always set at this table.
“Of course we do! I’m sure you’ve heard them.
But they’re only fights. It’s part of the dance.
You learn how to fight fair eventually. You’ll see.
And sometimes you realize they aren’t fights at all. Just give her some time.”
“But what should I do?”
“Usually, it helps to get back to the basics. You’ve taken her to the UK, a gala in Manhattan, and Cleveland. You got her that pretty bracelet. You’ve already done the grand gestures. Just be around for each other. Take it slow. See what happens.”
Back to basics.
I tried getting back to my basics, and Olivia didn’t like it.
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“You both have such demanding careers—I think it would be nice if you have each other for the quiet times.”
“The quiet times.” I can do that. “I just wish I understood her.”
“Why?” Mrs. Montgomery cocks her head. She really doesn’t understand why I’d want to understand her daughter.
“Don’t you?”
She smiles and touches my hand. “You’re a good boy, Johnny. But you don’t have to understand everything intellectually. When we try to understand something like that, it’s because we want to feel like we have control over it.”
Is that true?
It is.
“There are softer ways of understanding people. You know, I always thought you and Olivia had more in common than you and Nathan.”
I almost start choking again.
“You don’t see that? You both have the same issues.
You just deal with them differently. You both like rules.
You both think you need the certainty of repetition and patterns and mastery.
Olivia escaped to her body, and you escaped to your brain.
” She reaches for a napkin and slides it across the table to me.
“But you’ve both been running from your own hearts. ”
That almost makes me smile because I’m picturing Olivia running, not from a zombie apocalypse but from her own heart.
And I drive up alongside her in my rented sedan and remind her that if she had a driver’s license…
Then she’d flip me the bird, climb into the car, and dry hump me.
But I can’t think about that right now. “This soup is good, Mrs. Montgomery. Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s just Campbell’s.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I’m sorry I don’t have all the ingredients for my magic soup. Remember I made it for you when you had the flu?”
“I remember everything you ever did for me. But I definitely don’t have the flu.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
“I don’t like not knowing what to do,” I admit.
She takes a sip from her own coffee mug and then says, “What was it you said in your TED Talk? About your Brainy business? Turn your weaknesses into strengths?”
I swallow and wipe my mouth with the napkin. “That’s it. I have to show her that she’s my weakness.”
She smiles. Such a lovely, warm smile. “Maybe then she won’t be so scared knowing that you’re hers.”
This woman. She’s the genius. I would give anything for her to be my mother-in-law. Even—possibly—my dignity.