I had to admit to having been that girl at least once. In my defense, though, I was in eighth grade at the time. I hadn’t known any better.
So, when a week after meeting her at the lake in Fort Colson Eric asked Mindy to be his girlfriend, I totally expected her to become the most annoying person in all the world.
Much to my surprise, though, she turned him down.
“Don’t you even like him?” I asked on the way home from work the day she told me.
“I guess,” she said. “But he’ll just dump me eventually. I’m saving myself from getting my heart broken.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Sonny, I’m not like you.” She put her hands up and shrugged. “You’re pretty and interesting and fun to be around.”
“Oh, whatever, Mindy. You’re so pretty.”
“Thanks.” She sighed. “I’d rather be fun to be around, though.”
I paused at a four-way stop before rolling through, expecting Mindy to yell at me. She didn’t disappoint.
“There were no other cars,” I said. “Maybe you’d be more fun if you weren’t always criticizing my driving.”
“Whatever.”
“So, like, are you just never going to talk to him again?” I asked. “I mean, he’s so nice. And really cute.”
“We’re going to be pen pals,” she said.
“Seriously?” I turned toward her. “Pen pals?”
“Keep your eyes on the road,” she said. “Don’t forget we have to pick up some gummy bears for Mom.”
“I just don’t get why you’d stay in touch with him if you’re not interested in going out.”
“Um, because he’s a good friend. And because we have a lot in common.”
“Like that you’re both adopted?” I asked.
“For real, Sonny, if we forget the gummy bears, Mom is going to spaz out.”
Apparently she was done with the Eric conversation even if I had so many questions I still wanted to ask.
I drove to the convenience store where the candy was cheapest, letting the car idle while Mindy ran inside.
When we got home, Mom was up in her bedroom with the door closed.
“I’m on the phone with Aunt Dana,” she called through the door, almost shrilly. “You can put the gummy bears on the kitchen counter. Thanks.”
“Do you want us to make you a sandwich?” Mindy asked.
“Nope. I’ll get something to eat in a little while.”
Mindy and I walked down the stairs, side by side, whispering.
“She sounds funny,” Mindy said.
“I know. Like she’s crying or freaking out or something.”
“Should we call Dad?”
“She’s on the phone.” I shook my head. “It’s probably just the baby making her feel crazy again. She’ll be better soon.”
“It must be so horrible to be pregnant.” Mindy hopped off the bottom step and turned toward me. “You have to pee all the time.”
“I don’t know. I think it sounds like fun.”
We rounded the corner into the kitchen.
“Fun?” Mindy grabbed a loaf of bread from the box on the counter. “All the mood swings?”
“People bring you candy whenever you want it,” I said, opening the fridge for the Goober Grape peanut butter. “You get so much attention.”
“Strangers touch your belly.” Mindy grimaced.
“And tell you that you’re glowing.”
She untwisted the tie on the bread, spinning the bag open before handing me two slices. I got out a knife and dug into the peanut butter and jelly mixture in the jar. We ate in the family room, watching a rerun of The Facts of Life and trying to figure out which girl we were most like.
Mindy thought I was like Blair, and I said she was most like Tootie.
“Really?” Mindy asked. “I kind of thought I was more like Jo.”
“No,” I said. “You aren’t a tomboy.”
From the kitchen we heard a bag being opened. Mom had found her gummy bears. All must have been right with the world.
“What are you girls watching?” she asked, walking past us and slowly lowering herself into the loveseat.
I glanced over at her, watching as her jaw worked, chewing the candy. As soon as I turned back toward the TV, though, I realized something was different about her. Very different.
“Mom,” I said, horrified. “Um, did you get a haircut?”
“Yes,” she answered, a forced smile on her face. “I thought maybe it would be easy once the baby comes, you know, to have it a little shorter. Besides, with how hot it’s been, I just wanted it off my neck. So, I called and made an appointment. I took in a magazine with Princess Diana in it, thinking that would look nice.”
“Oh,” Mindy said, dropping her half-eaten sandwich on her plate.
“But then the hairdresser said I wouldn’t look good with that style.” Mom sniffled and shoved a few gummy bears into her mouth. “So she did this to me.”
She put her hand on her head, feeling the very, very short hair.
“It’s like Mia Farrow from Rosemary’s Baby,” she sobbed. “Did she think I was having Satan’s child or something?”
“I don’t know,” Mindy said. “I haven’t seen that movie.”
I shot my sister a look, and she picked her sandwich back up, taking a big bite.
“It’s not that bad, Mom,” I said.
“I look like a pinhead!” Mom yelled before shoving a handful of gummies in her mouth.
“No, you don’t.” I slid my plate onto the coffee table. “You’re beautiful.”
“But all my pretty hair is gone.” She covered her face with both hands and wailed, her mouth totally full of candy. “Your dad is going to be so upset with me.”
“It will grow back,” I said. “And Dad won’t be mad. I promise.”
Eventually Mindy and I managed to get Mom to eat something that wasn’t full of sugar and helped her back up to her bed, where she fell asleep just a few minutes after her head hit the pillow.
Once back downstairs, I called Dad and told him what happened.
“Dad, she needs you to be Prince Charming today,” I said. “You know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I mean it. You can’t, like, blow this off. She needs to feel like the most special woman in the world.” I was being bossy, I knew it. But if ever there was a time for it, this was it. “And bring flowers. Not red roses, though. You know she hates those.”
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in an hour.”
He came home exactly one hour later with a bouquet of flowers that looked very expensive. Daisies and irises and even a sunflower. Not a red rose in sight. When he saw Mom, he smiled and told her how beautiful she was. He said that she should get dressed up because they were going out for dinner. And at a place that took reservations.
She came downstairs in a sleeveless maternity dress that she’d cinched so it didn’t hang like a tent. Somehow she’d done her makeup so that her eyes stood out even more than usual with a shimmery eyeshadow she’d borrowed from me.
With that look she could have been cue-ball bald and no one would have even noticed.
Well, they might have noticed. But they would have thought the bald woman was super gorgeous.
“Pretty as the day I met you,” Dad said, taking her hand. “Let’s go, babe.”
She put arms around him, pulling him as close as she could to her so she could give him a giant, loud kiss on the lips.
I was a teenager, and so my obligation to the world was to be grossed out by the display of affection mere feet from me.
They walked outside, and Mindy and I watched Dad get Mom’s door and help her into the truck. Before he shut her in, he put a hand on her cheek and said something that made her smile.
My word. My mom was gorgeous.
CHAPTE
R
Thirty-Four
Bruce
, 2013
When Holly was first born, I held her every moment I could. My mother warned me that I’d spoil the girl if I didn’t put her down every once in a while, but I wouldn’t hear of it. While I knew it was possible to ruin a child with too much sugar or too many toys or never saying no to anything, I knew there was no such thing as giving too much love.
I still believe that with all my heart.
I’m standing in the narthex of the church where I’ve been playing double roles as a father of the bride and greeter, welcoming the handful of guests who have come to celebrate with us. It’s mostly family, ours and Zach’s with a couple of college friends who were able to drop everything and make the trip.
It’s not the grand wedding I’d always expected to throw for Holly, but that doesn’t take any of the goodness out of the occasion.
It’s not every day I get to give my baby girl away to a man I’ve grown to admire.
I saw Zach for a minute before he walked his mother down the aisle. The kid’s a mess of nerves. It’s all right. So am I.
It’s my third time, and I might have thought it would get easier. It does not. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
The only piano player we could get on such short notice is the old choir teacher from the school. Thank goodness she’s got “Canon in D” memorized. When she starts playing, Mindy and Sonny link arms and start the slow walk to the altar.
That’s when my Holly rounds the corner and I get my first glimpse of her in all her finery.
“Daddy,” she whispers, holding the skirt of her dress to the sides just like she did a hundred times when she was little. She turns a twirl and all I see is my little bird all grown up. How did it happen so fast?
If my heart stops right now, I won’t be surprised at all.
“You’re beautiful, honey,” I say.
“Daddy, don’t cry,” she says, smiling. “You’ll make me cry and then my makeup will be ruined.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” I knuckle a tear out of the corner of my eye.
She hugs me, and even though I worry about messing up her hair or crinkling her dress, I hold my daughter in my arms. She lets me go before I’m ready. It’s probably for the best. I’d never be ready.
Twining her arm in mine, she rests her head on my shoulder.
“I’m so excited,” she says.
I’d planned what I might say to her when we got to this place, but I can’t seem to remember a single word of it. It was this way when I walked Sonny to Mike and Mindy to Eric.
It’s not often that I find myself completely at a loss like this.
The pianist starts up with the wedding march and Holly and I step to the threshold of the sanctuary.
Linda stands, locking eyes with me and making me want to cry. I guess it would be all right if I did. Nobody would think anything of it. Besides, Linda’s already dabbing under her eyes with the hanky I let her borrow earlier.
I wink at her before turning to Holly. “You ready?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
During the rehearsal last night, this felt like the longest walk in history. Today it’s too short. In no time we’re at the front of the sanctuary, where Linda joins us, kissing Holly on the cheek before taking her hand.
When the pastor asks who is giving this woman away, Lin and I say “We are” at the same time, and I’m sure everybody hears how my voice shakes.
Before I know it, I let her go.
In lieu of a reception, we’ve rented out Fiona’s for the evening. It’s not swanky by any means, but Fi did a fine job on the food and even let us decorate a little bit.
Good thing Holly’s favorite meal is breakfast because that’s all Fiona ever makes.
It’s a small party but loud, and I find myself in need of a little breather out on the bench in front of the diner. The air’s crisp and the stars bright. What a really good day it’s been.
The door opens and Sonny steps out, still in her dress but with a denim jacket on to keep her warm.
“Scoot over,” she says. “No hogging the bench.”
I move to my left and she sits beside me.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yup. Just needed a little air.”
She puts an elbow on the back of the bench, resting her head in her hand.
“He’ll be good to her, Dad,” she says.
“I believe it.” I rub my palms against the legs of my dress pants. “It always takes a little getting used to, though. She was, after all, only born five minutes ago.”
“Is it harder this time?” she asks. “Since she’s your last?”
“Between you and me?” I say. “It was hardest on me when you got married.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Our first little bird out of the nest.” I pat her knee. “Your mom and I raised all three of you girls so you could make it out in the world. Still, it’s always come as a surprise when it’s time to let one of you go.”
“Good thing we haven’t gone too far.” She gets up. “Come on, Daddy-O. It’s almost time for the love birds to cut the cake.”
“I’ll be right in,” I say.
“Promise?”
“Yup.”
When she opens the door, a rush of glad-making sound escapes from the party, and I’m eager to get back to the fun.
I take in a couple more fortifying gulps of autumn air before getting up from the bench.
The scene through the window is one I want to remember for the rest of my life. All the people I love most together in one place. Dad’s eyeballing the cake, rubbing his hands together. Linda’s sitting in a booth with Zach’s folks, making friends with them. Our granddaughters have started an impromptu dance party in the middle of the diner.
Even Mom’s smiling, Holly crouched down beside her wheelchair so Mindy can take their picture.
The poet Mary Oliver—a favorite of mine—once posed the question about what it is one plans to do with their “wild and precious life.” I’ve pondered that a whole lot since first reading it.
But today, looking in on my family, I think I’ve come upon the answer.
If all I’ve done with this one life is be a son, husband, brother, dad, grandpa to these remarkable people, that’s good enough for me.
I pull open the door and get back to the celebration.
CHAPTER
Thirty-Five
Linda, 1975
The heat of a hundred bodies mingled to make the elementary school gym even smellier than it usually was. Add to that discomfort the indignity of adults trying to fit their behinds on the tiny chairs that were in rows placed too close together. I thought Hilda was going to blow an artery with how put out she felt.
It was the first we’d seen her since Minh came, and she didn’t say anything to us when she took her tiny seat. Every minute or two she looked at Minh out of the corner of her eye as if sizing her up.
When the kindergarteners came in, marching in a single-file line, all wearing little white robes and construction paper graduation caps with yarn tassels, all of our attention turned to them.
Once up front, Sonny waved at us, smiling wide and showing off the space where her front teeth had been just the week before.
“See Sonny?” Bruce whispered to Minh, who stood between his knees.
“Sonny,” she whispered.
Minh lifted up on tiptoe to see between the heads of the people in front of her. But when Ivan snapped a picture from the seat beside Bruce, the flash exploding light, Minh flinched. From all around the room came an echo of clicking cameras and bursts of flashbulbs. She scrambled up onto Bruce’s lap, pressing her face into his chest. The meat of her hands covered her ears, her fingers wrapped around the back of her head, assuming the position we’d all been taught as kids during air-raid drills.
For us as kids, the air raids never came. They’d been some abstract fear of what-if.
Not when.
I reached for Minh, touching her sh
oulder. It only made her jerk away from me and let out a terrified little yelping sound.
Bruce put his hand on the back of her head and wrapped his other arm around her behind and eased himself up from the chair.
Sonny watched from the front as her daddy stepped out into the hall with Minh.
Her smile faded.
I tried to get her attention so I could smile and flash her a thumbs-up. But she kept her eyes on the door, waiting for Bruce to come back.
The teacher knelt on the floor in front of her class, leading them in a song that was undoubtedly meant as a heartstring tugger, about growing up so fast. Sonny went through the motions along with her classmates, but without her usual joie de vivre.
Halfway through the song, though, she got her smile back and that bright sparkle in her eye.
Turning, I saw Bruce standing at the back of the gym, Minh in his arms. He’d managed to get her calmed down, and she snuggled right up to him. When he noticed me watching them, he whispered something into Minh’s ear and pointed in my direction.
She met my eyes across the room and smiled, lifting her hand in a wave.
“Looks like she’s all right now,” Ivan whispered.
I nodded.
Little by little, we were figuring it all out.
Hilda insisted that we have a party for Sonny’s kindergarten graduation. On the phone a few days before she told us to be at her house for supper by six o’clock and that she would take care of the food and decorations. We just needed to show up. And on time.
She said nothing about Minh or how she’d snubbed us the past several weeks. She didn’t apologize or so much as acknowledge that she might have caused some harm.
Everything was supposed to go back to normal just because she was ready for it to.
If only I was a stronger woman I would have put my foot down and demanded that she say sorry before we would step into her house or her into ours.
But I was lily-livered and wanted so desperately to make everyone happy. So to Grammy and Grumpy’s we went. And on time.
Hilda kept the food in her warm oven, waiting for Chris and Dana to come with baby Teddy. But when Dana came, just her and the baby, my heart sank.
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