Abbot shook his head. “I was expected to help out, but when I did I was frequently scolded for doing it wrong. And then when I resisted getting set up for failure, I was branded as lazy. Some relationships you just can’t win, you know?”
Lana nodded. “I know the feeling. So many marriages end up being power struggles, don’t they? Each partner just vying for ultimate control.”
Lana set the plates in the cupboard. Although the kitchen had been her domain, the entire room was arranged around Graham’s preferences. His favorite plates were down lowest, the ones she liked up on the higher shelf. The glasses he liked were in front, the ones she used stored in the back. It had been her doing as much as Graham’s. She emptied the cupboard, stacking its contents on the counter. It was time to rearrange.
“So how do we not do that to each other?” Abbot asked. He’d finished the dishes and was leaning against the counter drying his hands, watching her work. It was the first time they’d mentioned a future beyond their next date.
“I think we’ve both learned a lot in our travels. Hopefully we can be together without trying to change one another.”
“Sounds simple enough,” he said. He figured out Lana’s new order for the cupboards and joined her, putting the dishes back in the new arrangement.
“What’s the main thing you’ve learned in your travels?” he asked.
Lana thought it over. The dull ache of losing Graham. The cold business of separating finances and possessions. The ongoing fear of dangerous cells taking up residence in her body, and that awful, fear-inspiring word: cancer. Her mother’s vocal dissatisfaction. Her father’s constant distractions. The ebb and flow of her children’s joy and pain and strength and confusion. Matt moving in. Rekindling her friendship with Camilla. Becca’s meditation CDs. Abbot and his soft voice and broad shoulders and brown Crocs and the way he smelled like home.
“I think the main thing I’ve learned is that no matter what the problem is, the answer is love. It isn’t about control or success or doing the most, having the most, or knowing the most. Love my kids fiercely, protect them with all that I have, and be the kind of parent that I wish I’d had. And forgive myself when I falter. Keep my heart open. Trust my judgment. Accept others. Love myself. That’s what I’ve learned.”
Abbot reached up to stop her hand in the steady motion of lifting mugs from the counter to the shelf one by one. He turned her toward him and placed her palm on his chest over his steadily thumping heart.
“You’re right,” he said. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”
30
* * *
Matt
The phone calls weren’t working. The problem was that Matt hated talking on the phone. It seemed like it should be easier, because there was no eye contact and the caller couldn’t see whether Matt was anxious-smiling or not. But after the third phone call with Susan, where she did most of the talking and Matt did most of the pacing around his room trying to figure out what to say, she said they’d be better off meeting in person.
Matt drove his red truck to the café Susan had selected. He brought himself a thermos of tea from home, because he couldn’t eat or drink at the café. He didn’t like restaurants or restaurant germs. As soon as he walked in and saw Susan he realized how much he missed her. She had the same brown hair, hanging straight just below her shoulders, and her brown eyes were just as he remembered them, but she looked different around the mouth.
“You’re wearing pink lipstick,” Matt said. “I’ve never seen you in pink lipstick before.”
Susan laughed. “Hi, Matt. It’s nice to see you. Can I hug you?”
Matt set his tea down so he wouldn’t spill it or burn her and opened his arms. He turned his head to the side so she’d know not to kiss him. Susan didn’t move.
“Tell you what. We don’t have to hug,” she said. “I’ll be right over here if you feel the urge, but I don’t need to touch you if you aren’t up for it.”
Matt liked Susan a lot. She was funny and nice and smart. And she smelled good. Like some sort of flower and spice. He stepped forward and gave her a quick hug, smelling her hair as he did. It smelled like cherry blossoms. She raised her arms to make space for him, but she didn’t put her hands on him. She had always been like that: fine with whatever he wanted as far as the touching went. Which made him want to touch her more. He even wanted to kiss her. Not her pink lipstick, though. The lipstick made him think of the lip balm he’d bought for Florida. Mint, with sunscreen in it.
“I’m going to Florida,” Matt said. He was already better in person. He hadn’t even thought of telling her about the trip over the phone.
“Really?” Susan smiled and sat at a table for two. “When?”
“Tomorrow. For seven days. To visit my parents.”
“Oh, Matt, that’s wonderful,” Susan said. “How long since you’ve seen them?”
“Two years and seven months,” Matt said. He knew that was too long to go without seeing your parents, because Lana had told him so. “They don’t travel much. And I don’t travel much. And we live two thousand four hundred fifty-six miles apart, according to Google Maps. If I drove. On the ten. Which I won’t. I’m flying. I don’t know if I like planes very much. So many people and so many germs and not enough space, but my doctor gave me a pill that’s supposed to help keep me calm on the plane.”
“Do you have an iPod? If you listen to music on the plane it’ll keep you busy, distracted from all those people.”
Matt hadn’t even thought of that. It was an excellent idea. He pulled out his notebook and wrote it down. “Good,” he said. “What else would help?”
Susan pointed at the notebook. “That. Write down everything interesting you see. Then when we talk on the phone you can read it to me.” The sun coming in the window lit up Susan’s face in the nicest way.
“My parents live close to Cape Canaveral,” Matt said. “Maybe I could go to the Kennedy Space Center. Then I could tell you about it.” He made a note about that in his notebook. Looking at his notebook reminded him of all the other things he had to tell Susan about. The waitress brought Susan her coffee and scone. Matt made a point of smiling at the waitress when she looked at him. “I stopped drinking. And taking the pills that were bad. I don’t live with Spike anymore. I live with Lana now. And I’m painting again. Oh, and I’m on Wellbutrin now.” The waitress turned and looked at Matt, so he smiled at her again. “It helps me with my impulse control. I haven’t acted out in a while. And I can stop the thoughts before they come out. Sometimes. Usually. You’re very pretty. Especially in this light. I wish I could do a painting of you just like this.”
Susan laughed and was even prettier when she did. The waitress laughed, too, as she walked away. Matt could feel the happiness all around him. It got into his chest in a good way, pushing aside all of the anxious feelings until all he felt was good.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Matt asked Susan.
“I told you I’m single,” Susan said.
“That was three days ago,” Matt said. “I want to know if you still are. You had a boyfriend after me, right? You could be back with him.”
“I’m not back with him. He’s too . . .” Susan sighed, looked out the window, squinted in the sun. “Moody. Dark. Unhappy. Unpredictable. It was exhausting.” Susan turned back to Matt and smiled at him. “You look really good, Matt. I can see how much calmer and clearer you are now. Living with Lana must be good for you. Having someone to look after you a bit, help you out.”
“We help each other out,” Matt said. “I’m not unpredictable. Ever. Do you think you could be my girlfriend again?”
Susan blushed and laughed. “I like the thought of being friends again, for now. We’ll see about the rest, okay?”
“We’ll see usually means no,” Matt said.
Susan tipped her head and studied him. “I don’t mean no,” she said.
“So you still like me?” Matt asked. He made it sound like a joke, but he wasn’t
joking.
“Of course I still like you,” Susan said. “How could anyone not like you?”
And she meant it. When they said good-bye she kissed Matt. Most of her pink lipstick had come off on the coffee cup and she’d wiped the rest off with a napkin. Her lips were soft and even though she tasted like coffee Matt didn’t want the kiss to end.
Matt was so happy after meeting with Susan that he stopped feeling nervous about flying. The kids were excited and Lana was anxious, but Matt took his pill and listened to his music and wrote in his notebook until he fell asleep. When he woke up the plane was already descending. He’d filled his notebook with so many thoughts and he couldn’t wait to share them with Susan.
Matt’s parents met them at the baggage claim.
“Oh, how lovely you all look,” Gloria said. “You kids are nearly grown.” She hugged all of them, even Matt, but she did the arm hug without hands, like Susan. So she remembered. Gloria looked older. And shorter. She was skinnier around the shoulders but she had a new roll of padding around her middle. Matt’s dad, Jack, was fatter, in his face as well as his body. His head and neck had merged into one solid thing. Both of them had thinner, whiter hair and more wrinkles.
“Do you use sunscreen?” Matt asked. Florida was very sunny, and that was bad for wrinkles. They laughed and everyone started talking at once. Matt turned to watch for the luggage. He liked watching each suitcase slide down the ramp onto the carousel, guessing which way it would fall, which person each item belonged to.
They took two cars back home and Matt was in his dad’s car, which was the slow one. Jack was too busy talking to pay much attention to driving. He stayed in the slow lane and talked to Byron in the rearview mirror the whole drive. When they made it to the house, Gloria, Lana, and Abby were already in the kitchen making food.
“I didn’t know what everyone would want, so I just got a little of everything and figured we could make our own sandwiches,” Gloria said. Byron made two huge sandwiches. Abby used the fixings to make a salad. Jack stood there commenting on everyone’s food choices. Matt got the English muffins out of his suitcase and made one for himself. He could feel Gloria watching him while she talked to Lana about the flight, the week’s plans, the weather. “He’s so different,” she said.
“I told you,” Lana said. “Amazing what a stable environment, clean living, and meds will do.”
“Yes, but where’s his sparkle?” Gloria asked. “He’s lost it.”
“Oh, Mom,” Lana said. “Really?”
Gloria helped Matt set up his bed in the guest room. He was going to sleep in the bed and Byron was going to sleep on the floor on an air bed. Matt didn’t like sharing a room but there wasn’t a choice. At least he wasn’t in the living room like Abby and Lana.
“It’s very crowded in here,” Matt said. “Six people and only two bedrooms.”
“At least there’s two bathrooms,” Gloria said. “Are you sure you’re okay here? It’s a big change, and I know change can be hard for you.”
“I’ve had a lot of changes lately,” Matt said. “I had my first hospital stay. I didn’t like it. And I moved in with Lana. That’s a good change. And no more Spike or drinking or pills. And I got to know Abby and Byron. I lost my driver’s license and got it back. I’m painting again. I know what parkour is. And Vizslas. And I have so much data in my notebooks that I had to get a whole pack of them. Lana got them from Costco. I have twenty blank notebooks now. All blue and green covers, with yellow lined paper. I can’t wait to fill them up.”
Gloria was sitting on the bed staring at Matt. She patted the bed next to her and he sat down near her.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she said.
“I know you don’t like to travel. I don’t, either. We live so far apart.”
“You seem very calm. So different from before. Do you like it? The way the medication slows you down?”
“I have a fast-processing brain,” Matt told her. “Even on the Wellbutrin. I can still think about several things at once. I mean, I can’t not think about several things at once. I like that I don’t feel that feeling anymore.” He rubbed his chest, mimicked an explosion coming from within it.
Gloria nodded. She was the one who’d called it that feeling. When he was a kid she’d see him starting to squirm and she’d say, “Matt, are you having that feeling again?” And if he was, she’d clear the room of other people and start moving fragile objects away from him. A few times he’d hurt her. Hit her with fists or heavy objects, drove her from the room because he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you. When I was having my episodes. I didn’t mean to.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said. She smiled at him and held her hand out. Matt took his time. He touched each one of her fingertips. They were dry and cool to the touch. He pinched each nail until the skin beneath it blanched white, then watched the pink return. He touched the back of her hand, traced a thick blue vein from her middle finger to the back of her wrist. He turned her hand over and traced the lines on her palm. He’d spent hours doing it when he was a kid. He didn’t like to be held or hugged. But he could do this. When he was touching her it didn’t hurt him. He finished tracing every interesting line on her hand and when he looked up she was smiling with tears in her eyes.
“I missed you, my baby boy,” she said.
“There are a lot more lines now,” he said, pointing to her hand.
Gloria laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
They were all tired from their trip and went to bed on Florida time even though technically their bodies were still on California time. When Matt woke up he heard a new female voice coming from the kitchen. Not Abby. Not Lana. Not Gloria. He didn’t want more company. There were too many bodies already crammed into Jack and Gloria’s two-bedroom condo. But when Matt looked in the kitchen, it was his sister Becca sitting there drinking coffee.
“Morning, baby brother,” she said, smiling. “Surprise!”
It was a good surprise. Becca was wearing a long flowered sundress and lots of sparkly crystal jewelry. She had no shoes on and when she stood she only came up to Matt’s chest.
“You’re so short,” he said. “I forgot how short you are.”
“Petite,” Becca said. “And don’t forget that if it weren’t for us short folk you and Lana wouldn’t be tall, you’d just be average.”
It was what Becca had always said, and it made Matt laugh. “Mom is getting shorter. Soon you’ll be the same size,” Matt said.
“Hey,” Gloria said. “No fair picking on the little people. Can I make your English muffin?”
Matt nodded and sat next to Becca. She looked at him for a while and smiled. “You look so good, Mattie.” She had tears in her eyes when she said it.
“Clean living,” Matt said, quoting Lana. Becca laughed hard. She wiped her eyes and leaned over until her temple was resting very lightly on Matt’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and let it rest there. A flash went off, startling Matt.
“Gotcha!” Jack said from the doorway. He was holding his camera.
“Who let him have that thing?” Becca said. “He can’t be trusted with it.”
“I have all of my kids and grandkids together. I want to record it for posterity.”
“You mean blackmail,” Becca said. Jack laughed and came over to show the pictures he’d taken of Abby and Byron sleeping, of Lana on the phone out back, of Becca coming through the front door, mouth open, saying something. “Delete,” she said.
Matt ate his English muffin while everyone around him talked. He didn’t want to leave the sunny room full of his family, even when the noise got too much. He got his iPod, put on some Hawaiian slack-key guitar music that Susan had given him, and sat back down. The music was very soothing. Matt had never been to Hawaii. When he looked up everyone was smiling and looking at him. He took one of his earbuds out.
“You’re still here,” Lana said.
&
nbsp; “I’m still here,” Matt said. “Can we go to the Kennedy Space Center? I want to tell Susan about it.”
“Who’s Susan?” Jack asked.
“My friend. My ex-girlfriend. Hopefully my girlfriend again. I kissed her two days ago, so maybe she’s my girlfriend again. I should ask. When I call her about the Kennedy Space Center I’ll ask.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Jack said. “Of course we can go. And then you call Susan and get to the bottom of this dating thing. I’m on pins and needles here.”
“Oh, Jack, leave him alone,” Gloria said. Then she just stood and stared at Matt for a while.
They spent several hours at the space center. Matt read every plaque and took notes for Susan. Byron and Abby took turns posing for pictures in front of the various displays. Gloria and Jack got tired fast and spent most of the day sitting on a bench. Lana and Becca talked and giggled the whole time. It was a good day.
As soon as they got home, Matt called Susan. He read her his whole list of interesting facts about the space program, but he forgot to ask her about being his girlfriend. He’d forgotten to write it in the notebook.
Becca gave Matt one of her meditation CDs to listen to at night, and at first it felt strange: having another person’s voice in his head while he tried to sleep. The woman talked in a soft voice, with soothing music playing in the background. But as she talked about relaxing waves of light washing over Matt’s body, starting with his feet and moving slowly up his body, relaxing every cell in his toes, arches, heels, ankles, calves, he must have drifted off. The waves of light never made it above his chest. He woke up with his iPod earbuds all tangled around him, but he had slept better than he had in a long time. He headed for the kitchen to tell Becca, but stopped before he made it to her. Something was different. He could feel it in the empty kitchen. Tension, coming in from the patio. He ate his English muffin at the kitchen table while Lana, Becca, and Gloria had coffee on the patio and talked. But they weren’t just talking. They were too loud for that. Matt could hear them right through the glass.
The Art of Adapting Page 30