14. “All Happy Families Are Alike” #4
POV: Your father donates twenty million dollars to your boarding school and serves as president of the board to ensure your time there goes smoothly, but for your final Family Weekend, you invite your mother to come.
She has never visited campus before because her ex-husband has pissed all over the damn place, marking up his territory—and also, she lives in Los Angeles.
This year, however, she angles for an invite, saying she’s been craving New England fall vibes.
You worry that your father will say he’s also coming, and then your life will totally blow because nothing makes you crash out like having your parents in the same place at the same time.
But instead, your father expresses relief because his girlfriend, O’Malley, planned a safari trip in Kenya over the same dates as Family Weekend.
Your father says, “We’ll get there for the one hundred fifteenth anniversary in the spring. ”
You hit your vape and chill.
Instead of flying private and arriving by black car like his father does when he visits, Lori Litavec flies Delta to Boston, where she rents a Jeep Wrangler.
Friday afternoon, she follows a meandering leaf-peeping route west with the intention of arriving at Tiffin by six, in time for the steak dinner.
But in the late afternoon, she encounters torrential downpours.
She isn’t comfortable driving on the narrow, winding roads in the rain (it never rains in California!).
She stops at a hotel in Athol and sends East a text: So close and yet so far…
I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, Taz. And to meet the girl!
East lets Charley read the text over his shoulder.
“Taz?” she says. “That’s your nickname?”
“Tasmanian devil,” East says. “Apparently I used to be a handful.”
“You’re still a handful,” Charley says.
Everyone is eating in the Paddock with their parents, some kids are spending the night at their parents’ hotels, the regular schedule has been suspended. Now that Lori isn’t coming until the following day, East and Charley can take advantage of the free-for-all.
“Chapel roof?” East says.
“Hell yes,” Charley says.
The next day, East and Charley leave the football game early and descend the stairs to the Back Lot. East can’t believe how dialed up he is.
When he sees Lori emerge from the rental Jeep, he calls out. “Mama!”
Lori runs toward him, splashing in all the puddles. “Tazzie!” she says, gathering him up in a hug. “I made it, I’m here!” She gives him kisses on both cheeks and pulls back so she can study him. “How did I create such a gorgeous child?”
“Mama,” East says. “This is my girlfriend, Charlotte Hicks.”
Lori hugs Charley as well and kisses both her cheeks.
“People call me Charley,” Charley says.
“Or Charles,” East says. He can’t wipe the stupid-ass smile off his face. He can’t believe his mother is here. She’s wearing a yellow rain slicker; her long honey-blond hair is parted in the middle, tucked behind her ears. People on the street in LA always stop her, thinking she’s famous.
East can’t wait to show his mother the campus. When the three of them reach the top of the stairs, the rain stops. From behind the bulging gray clouds, the sun peeks out, turning all of Tiffin golden.
Dinner that night is at the Wooden Duck Tavern. As East, his mother, and Charley are being seated, they pass table after table of Tiffin students with their parents: Royce Stringfellow and his father, Olivia H-T with her mom and dad, Hakeem and Taylor and their respective families.
The hostess leads them to a cozy three-top in a corner.
Charley and Lori slide onto the banquette seating, and East takes the Windsor chair facing them.
A server lights the candle in the hurricane glass and hands them menus while a waiter fills their water glasses.
East slides off his blazer, draping it over the back of his chair.
His mother and Charley haven’t stopped talking since they met. Now, they peruse the menu together. Charley says she’ll start with the spinach salad, then get the lamb chops, Lori is tempted to get the foie gras… but it’s an ethical nightmare, so it will be the cauliflower bisque for her instead.
East can’t help imagining the three of them, eight or ten years in the future: He and Charley are married, Charley is the daughter Lori never had.
East loosens his tie. There’s a fire blazing in the fireplace, and he’s roasting. He can’t believe he just thought about marrying Charley.
He dips back into the conversation. Lori is telling Charley about her interior decorating business and that she also volunteers at the Getty Museum.
“Really?” Charley says. “I just signed up for an art appreciation class that one of our teachers is offering one night a week.”
This gets East’s attention. “Wait, what?” he says. “You did?”
A panicked look flits across Charley’s face before she smooths it out. “Yeah. I want to be able to tell a Renoir from a Degas.”
He narrows his eyes. “Which teacher?” But he doesn’t have to ask, because he knows. He knows.
Charley takes a sip of water. “Mr. Maverick.”
Of course it’s Maverick, and of course this is the first East is hearing about it. “What night is he teaching this art history class?”
Charley casts her eyes down at her place setting. “We haven’t confirmed. He said something about Wednesdays—”
“Wednesdays!” East’s voice is loud enough that conversation around them halts for a split second.
“—but I’m going to tell him I can’t do Wednesdays,” Charley says. She gives Lori a wobbly smile. “That’s one of the nights East and I study together.”
Lori beams. “Well, I’m thrilled you’ll be getting some art appreciation and even more thrilled to hear that East is studying.”
East is suddenly irrationally furious—not only at Charley but at his mother. “Studying, not studying, what does it matter to you?” he says. “You’re completely checked out. You moved to California and never looked back.”
Charley gasps. “East!”
Lori reaches across the table for East’s hand, but East pulls back so abruptly that his knee hits the leg of the table and the glasses and lay plates shudder. “Taz, please.”
“Don’t call me that,” East snaps. “You’re creating false intimacy.”
“False intimacy? I’ve called you that since you were a toddler.”
“You haven’t been a part of my life for the past six years,” East says. “You’re a Disneyland parent. All you care about is catering to your famous clients and showing off your bungalow… which, I’ll point out, doesn’t even have a bedroom for me.”
Lori opens her mouth to speak but ends up smiling over East’s shoulder.
Their server has arrived to tell them the specials and take their order.
East wants to tell the server that he doesn’t want a fucking thing, he’ll stick with water.
He’s ablaze with anger—old anger at his mother (after the divorce, she basically abandoned him!), new anger at Charley (why is she so obsessed with Mav?).
Plus, he’s starving. Through gritted teeth, he asks for the Nantucket Bay scallop appetizer and the short rib.
After the server leaves, Lori says, “I am not a Disneyland parent, Andrew.”
“You literally took me to Disneyland over spring break last year,” East says. “Or have you forgotten?”
“You wanted to go,” Lori says. “We wanted to go.” She pauses as the server returns with a glass of red wine. She takes a sip, then a breath. “And I do have a bedroom for you—”
“It’s a guest room,” East says. “There isn’t one personal belonging of mine in that room.
” He glowers at her and knows they’re both thinking the same thing: Last year over spring break while East was staying with Lori, House Beautiful came to shoot a feature and East had to pack up all his stuff and move into the garage for the day.
This had made him feel so extraneous to his mother’s life that he’d returned to school early. “And I see you’re drinking again.”
“Just the occasional glass of wine,” Lori says.
“My mother got a DUI,” East says to Charley.
“When I was twenty-three years old,” Lori says. She turns to Charley. “Andrew’s father dredged up the DUI in court because he wanted full custody. So after that, I stopped drinking for a while, out of shame.”
“And then you moved as far away as possible,” East says.
“East, honey, please don’t do this.”
Charley stands up. “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
She doesn’t, East thinks. She just wants to escape the table—and can he blame her?
He stands when she leaves. He has, against all odds, been raised correctly.
Once she’s gone, Lori says, “Would you stop, please, darling?”
“You do realize that I’ve been at this school for four years,” East says. “This is the first time you’ve visited, and you didn’t even get here on time. You were supposed to be here yesterday.”
“I was caught in a deluge, East. It was getting dark, I could barely see. Branches were coming down left and right, I was afraid I was going to crash.”
“You always have an excuse.”
“Where is this hostility coming from? You know I love you. You know I fought for you. Your father was a formidable opponent with deep, deep pockets. He wanted primary custody of you, and he destroyed me in order to get it.”
East takes a measured breath. “You could have stayed in New York.”
Lori holds eye contact with him. “I could have. I can see how, from your point of view, I chose California over being closer to you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Lori says. “Maybe that was selfish. I had to be as far away from your father as I could be, for my own mental health. And I tried to maintain a connection. Remember during the pandemic when we did Wordle together every morning?”
East nods.