A Slight Change of Plan (24 page)

“What are we going to do?” she asked me at last.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. She can’t stay here. Look at her. She hates it; she hates me; it’s impossible. It shouldn’t have to be. I mean, the room down there is perfect for her: plenty of space, I can cook for her, Sam and Alisa are here to keep an eye out, you’re close. If she were any other mother in the world, we’d be set.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Kate, that she’s still so mad at you. I’ll never understand it. It was all so long ago.” Bobby stood behind Laura, massaging her shoulders.

Alisa and Sam sat down with us.

“What did you two fight about in the first place?” Alisa asked.

“I told her I thought Adam had been cheating on me. She told me I was being paranoid, that I never appreciated him enough, and that I had always been looking for a reason to leave him. It wasn’t true, I’d loved Adam and worked hard at our marriage, but she had really loved him, the son she never had.” I glanced up at Bobby. “I think it was the fact that he was a doctor,” I said. “She loved you, too, Bobby, I know that. But Adam represented something to her, I think. His own mother died when he was a kid, and he and Mom just really connected from the very beginning. She couldn’t stand my being the least bit unhappy with him.”

Laura shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I will be over every day. The boys are home next week, and Devon can drive me over here. He’s getting his license in October, and can use the practice.”

“I can’t deal with her. There is so much that has to be done—her house has to be emptied and sold, her things moved—but I cannot talk to her. Not about that. Not about anything, really. I mean, she can stay here as long as she needs to, but you’ll have to deal with her, Laura. I can’t do it.”

I looked at Alisa. “The only commitment I have right now is on Wednesdays. Can you request not to work on Wednesdays? At least for the next few weeks? I don’t want to
leave her alone until I can get some idea what she’s able to do and not do.”

Alisa nodded. “Sure. I’m already off Wednesday this week, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay. So, I guess I should be grateful I don’t have a job, right? Although I do have a date this Sunday. Laura?”

“We’ll pick her up and take her to our house, sure. But I thought you and Tom broke up?”

“It’s with Jake,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

Laura smiled. “Well, well, well.”

I just grinned.

Around eight thirty, I went back downstairs.

“Mom? Is there anything you need?”

She was sitting at the little table, her plastic shopping bags open, little piles of papers crowding the small tabletop.

“No. I’m fine.”

“There’s orange juice in the fridge, and a coffeemaker in the cabinet, along with coffee and sugar. What do you want for breakfast?”

“I usually have whole wheat toast and a little jelly.”

“Good. I’ll bring that down for you. What time are you usually up?”

“Well, I don’t imagine I’ll get much sleep. That bed looks all lumpy and not in very good shape.”

“That bed is brand new and smooth as glass. What time?”

“It’s pretty warm down here. I can’t breathe in the heat.”

“The thermostat is set at sixty-four down here, Mom. Just for you. I can almost see my breath. And I have the dehumidifier going as well. What time?”

“By nine.”

“Okay, then. Good night.”

She went back to her papers.

At the bottom of the stairs I stopped. I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, and you’re welcome.”

She didn’t even turn her head.

C
HAPTER
T
EN

I
made it through Saturday, because I knew I was seeing Jake on Sunday and did not want to be in jail for matricide when he came to pick me up. I had received a text from him late Saturday—just giving me a time and telling me to bring a bathing suit—but it was enough to spare my mother’s life. Someday, if I ever spoke to her again, I’d tell her how much she owed him.

Regan appeared first thing Saturday morning with cheese Danish, Mom’s favorite. She stayed downstairs for hours. They were talking about the wedding. I would occasionally pause by the top of the stairs and eavesdrop. Regan had brought her laptop, and they were working on designing the invitations. As much as I wanted to race down there and be part of the process, I knew that my presence would shut Mom down. So I waited it out until Regan came bouncing upstairs. She rolled her eyes at me and made a beeline for the deck. Once we were outside, the doors securely shut, she dropped into a chair and let out a string of expletives that would have done a dockworker proud. She finally let out a long breath. “Your mother is one tough son of a bitch.”

I sighed. “Yes, I know. But I heard you laughing. I thought you were getting along.”

“We were. We are. But she won’t budge an inch on anything. I offered to buy her a cell phone, and she said no. Period. When I told her that would save you from having to put in another landline, she pretended not to hear me. She also didn’t hear my suggestions about going to the senior center here in town, joining water aerobics, or getting a library card. Her selective hearing is phenomenal. But she understood every single detail of the wedding. When I told her I’d help her pick out a dress, she told me she couldn’t shop because she couldn’t walk around. I said, ‘Gram, we’ll just bring your walker.’ She said, ‘What walker?’ I said, ‘The one right there in the corner.’ She said, ‘That’s not mine; I’ve never seen it before in my life.’ What is wrong with that woman?”

I tried not to laugh. “Regan, if I knew the answer to that question, my life would be so much easier. So show me—what did you decide for the invitations?”

Regan and Mom had done a pretty good job. I had only four suggestions, all of which Regan vetoed. I asked her, very casually, about Edward. Just curious. She said he had driven up to Connecticut for the weekend to reconnect with an old friend. Then she and I had tuna sandwiches on the deck. She brought down lunch for Mom when we were done, and stayed down there for another half hour before heading out.

Sam and Alisa had spent the morning at the pool. Alisa, I knew, swam laps, worked on her tan, and read paperback romance novels. I had no idea what Sam did, as he always came home dry and pasty-white. They picked up the dinner shift with Mom, but were with her less than an hour. They emerged looking beaten and battered.

My mother, Sam told me, did not like the cats. Or the dog. The room was too bright—could we find room-darkening drapes? She didn’t like the sheets—were they really one hundred percent cotton? Because they felt very coarse. She needed a bigger table, because she didn’t have enough space to spread out. Oh, and by the way? What kind of cable did I have that didn’t carry the OWN network?

I had been down four or five times that day, just checking in, and every time I asked, she said everything was fine. Forty minutes with Sam, and there was a laundry list of crimes against the state. Really?”

I went downstairs again. “Mom, I’ve been down here a couple of times today. Why didn’t you ask me about the cable? Or the sheets? Or a bigger table?”

She was changing the channel. She kept stabbing the remote with her index finger. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was complaining too much.”

“So you told Sam, and, what—thought he’d fix everything for you? This is my house, not his.”

“Why in the world did you move into a tiny place like this? It’s hardly big enough for three people. Let alone four.”

“Well, when I bought it, it was more than big enough for one person, and I thought that’s all who would be living here. I wasn’t counting on Sam and Alisa. Or you.”

“And what’s with the cats?”

“I’ve always had cats.”

“Your cable is pathetic, and this remote doesn’t work.”

“The cable I have is the only one available in this area. And that remote is exactly like the one you had for your TV. Stop jabbing it.”

“The sunlight woke me up this morning. Can’t you get different drapes?”

“Mom, did you close the drapes last night? Those drapes are fine.”

“I need room-darkening.”

“Did you close them?”

“If you don’t have the money, I’ll pay for them myself.”

“
Mom!
Did you close the drapes before you went to bed?”

She finally looked from the television to me. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Good night, Mom.”

Then I went upstairs. Sam and Alisa were waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Well?” Alisa asked.

“I think I’m going to have to start drinking more.”

Jake showed up at nine the next morning in a Mercedes convertible. He was dressed in white shorts and a bright Hawaiian-type shirt, with worn dock-sider shoes and no socks. His sunglasses probably cost more than my first car. He looked handsome and relaxed. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, but I would have followed him anywhere.

It’s not easy having a conversation with someone in a convertible, going sixty miles an hour, but I managed to fill him in on Mom for the first twenty or so miles. Then I relaxed against the soft leather seat and tried to figure out where we were headed. We went north, into New York State, and after about an hour we went off the highway onto a quiet two-lane, then turned again onto a narrow drive that
circled down and ended in front of a sprawling log cabin beside a silver-blue lake.

“Where are we?”

Jake grinned as he pulled a big wicker basket out of the trunk. “This place belongs to one of my vice presidents. He’s going through a divorce right now, or he’d be up here himself with his kids. I’ve been here a couple of times, so when you mentioned a picnic and a lake, I thought of this place.”

He opened the front door of the log cabin, which could have doubled as a movie set, and I could see the lake through a wall of glass. The place was gorgeous—high ceilings and comfortable leather furniture—but the star of the show was the clear blue water and white puffy clouds.

He gave me a quick tour, and of course I used the bathroom; then we walked out and across the grass to the dock, where a very sleek powerboat sat in the water, rocking gently.

He tossed the hamper on the deck, then held out a hand to help me climb in.

“Do you know how to drive one of these things?” I asked as I gingerly stepped on board.

“Yep. I’ve got one just like it down in my place in the Bahamas.”

“You have a place in the Bahamas?”

“Sure. I’m one of the one percent, Kate. It’s what we do.”

“Really? You’re really that rich?”

He nodded. “That was Jill’s mission in life: to be rich. She never had the confidence to go out and do it on her own. That’s why she was so involved in my career. In the end, she had earned almost as much of her own money,
which is why, I think, she finally had the courage to leave me. She’d been unhappy for a long time. I think when she understood that she didn’t need me to have the right house and the right car and the right vacation, she could finally let go.” The boat was moving slowly away from the dock, the engine purring. Jake looked perfectly at home piloting the boat, one hand over the wheel, the other brushing his still-thick hair off his forehead.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

“I love my work, Kate. I didn’t think I’d ever be that guy, the one who would rather be at the office than at home, but it’s a challenge and a joy. Was I happy with Jill? Kind of. She was good for my career. That’s why I married her in the first place, really. And because she was good at that, I was happy enough to be with her.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said.

He looked surprised. “Is it? It doesn’t feel sad to me. Maybe someday I’ll look back with all kinds of regret, but not right now. I’m lonely, of course. That’s why I ended up spending time with somebody like Sandra. But my life is good. I’ve got a bunch of money and can live anywhere and any way I’d like. I’ve got a foundation that does good things for hungry kids. I’ve got a job that keeps me sharp and moving forward. I enjoy food and wine and being on the water. And I get to impress my old girlfriend.” He grinned. “Can’t feel too sorry for me, can you?”

I had to laugh. “I guess not, Jake.”

He turned the boat to the open water. I pulled off my T-shirt and sat in the sun in my bathing suit until I felt a tingle on my skin. I dug around in my tote bag until I found sunscreen, and started to slather it on. Jake, who’d been standing
under a canvas canopy, saw what I was doing and cut the engine. He looked around. We were in the middle of the lake with no one in sight. He came to me and offered to do my back.

I turned, and his hands ran down the length of my spine. I felt a jolt all the way into my toes. His skin on mine had the same effect on me that it did thirty years ago. I kept facing away from him. If I looked at him now, I’d throw my arms around him, and that was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. Well, actually, it was the
only
thing I wanted to do. But the sane, logical part of my brain won out.

He handed me the bottle. I took it, bent forward, and made a very long production of putting it away.

When I stood up, the flash of lust had faded. He had started unpacking the big wicker basket he had brought on board. There was a cooler, and all sorts of things wrapped in yellow paper. Roast beef sandwiches on thick French bread. Sliced melon in a plastic container. Grapes and a wedge of pale, warm cheese. The cooler was full of bottles of hard cider. I was suddenly starving.

We sat in the sun, the boat moving gently up and down. We did not talk much at all. It was just like those Sunday afternoons when we were in college, when we would take a blanket to the park and lie out in the sun together, not talking, just feeling the hum of happiness bounce between us.

“Are you happy, Kate?” he asked at last.

“Yes. Very. Of course, my mother just moved in, and I feel that it’s God’s payback for my being so content for all those years. My kids are great. I have wonderful friends. I just found something to do with my brain. Regan’s getting married. Jeff and Gabe are trying to have a baby. That’s
top-secret, by the way. Don’t say anything to either of them, please. I’m lonely, too, but it’s not as bad as I’d been imagining. I was seeing a man, just starting to get used to the idea of him. I really wanted to be happy with him. I thought if we worked at it, we could be a real couple. He just ended it. I’m more upset that he was the one to break it off than I am that it’s actually over. But I’m really fine with it. I’m not dreading being alone again.”