CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lorraine knew the second the sad-face train entered her hospital room that Roza had followed through on her promise to tell the girls about Joe. Regina, Victoria, and May stared at her like some tragic figure, a victim of circumstance. After an obligatory kiss on the cheek, May slumped into the chair farthest from her, her clothes wrinkled, and proceeded to avoid eye contact by enlarging the ragged hole in her jeans, making a haystack from the threads she pulled out. At least the girl didn’t have her face buried in her phone, but she did have an orange stripe in her beautiful brown hair. What had that child done to her head? And why was Regina letting her out in public like that?
Victoria went straight for the most comfortable chair, pushing back on the arms to kick out the footrest. She was treating her own mother’s hospitalization like a personal vacation.
Regina pulled up the last chair and sat next to Lorraine, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. Lorraine stared at her, wishing she could speak, wishing she hadn’t waited so long. Gina hadn’t put any makeup on—after all the times she explained the importance of always looking one’s best. Heaven forbid. She could have at least put some moisturizer on. Or coconut oil. Yes, Regina needed coconut oil. She could see the tub on the windowsill.
“Yerba lay.” Her lips and tongue felt swollen, making it impossible to make the right sounds. That morning, Lorraine had practiced for an hour with a therapist. Sounds were coming better now, yes, but not even close to the right words. She stretched her tongue. Her therapist said she needed to retrain her mouth to speak, and it would take time. But Lorraine did not have time. There were important things to discuss. She licked her lips and tried again, wrapping her mouth around the sounds, slowing them down. “Yeeerrrr-baaaaaaa laaaaaay.” Even to her own ear, she knew that wasn’t right.
“Do you want to lie down, Mom? Are you tired?” Regina asked, standing to look for the bed’s controls.
Lorraine shook her head from side to side in slow sweeping motions. That was her one success. With a lot of concentration, she could shake her head yes and no. She looked at the window, even moving a hand in that direction.
“Yer. Ba. Lay.”
“What?” Regina looked around the bed to see what Lorraine could possibly want.
“Gina.” Victoria made a lot of unnecessary noise folding the footstool back into the chair, clomping to the windowsill, and grabbing the jar of coconut oil to hold out to Regina. “She wants this.”
Lorraine nodded. “Yerba lay.”
“How did you get that from ‘yerba lay’?” Regina asked, reaching for it from her sister.
“Because she always wants coconut oil. The odds were in its favor.”
Regina opened the lid and scooped out some.
“Can you point to where you want it?” Regina asked.
How could she not feel her own skin begging for some moisture? Lorraine lifted her hand toward Regina’s face. “Okay, your hands.” She took Lorraine’s hand and rubbed it in, which did feel nice, but Lorraine shook her head and put her hand on Regina’s face, leaving a greasy smear.
Victoria laughed. “She thinks you need it. Good to know some things never change, Mom.”
Lorraine nodded as Regina pulled away from her, using a tissue to wipe the coconut oil from her face. What a waste. Regina flattened her paper again, her eyes growing sadder.
“How could you never tell us that Floyd wasn’t our biological dad? How could you hide that from us? Something so big?”
Victoria flopped back in her chair. “How do you expect her to answer?”
Lorraine looked at both their dear faces. How could she explain when she literally had no words? Losing a beloved spouse was like losing an arm. Regina should understand that. You could carry on, but everything was simply harder than it used to be. Then, just when you thought you had adjusted to your new reality, you’d lose a leg. Lorraine would turn to tell Joe something the girls had done, and the bed would be empty. Moving on hadn’t meant forgetting Joe—it had meant carving out a special place in her heart so he could be a part of everything in secret. She wouldn’t have traded anything for the few years she got to spend as his wife, and that’s what she could never explain to the women standing over her bed—what choosing Joe had cost her.
The restaurant was perched on a cliff overlooking Lake Michigan where they could see the whitecaps dotting the surface of the water, breaking up the monotony of the icy gray-blue. White-clothed tables dotted a golden wood floor. Joe’s strong hands shook as he pulled out her chair, having shooed the waiter away from the task he viewed as an honor rather than a responsibility. He wore what she knew was his best—well, only—suit, a classic dark gray with a wide blue tie. He looked even more dashing than usual, and Lorraine was floating on air, even as she was curious about his formality.
“Are you okay?” Lorraine asked.
“More than.” He smiled to her as he sat across the table. He straightened a fork he had knocked askew and spread his napkin on his lap, then sipped from the sweating ice water goblet. He looked around the restaurant and cleared his throat. “Tell me about your day.”
Odd. She had just spent the entire car ride telling him about her day.
“I’m not sure what else to tell you that I didn’t already say in the car. Mom is still determined to marry me off to Benny Miller.”
Joe scowled at the mention of the name.
“I am not a fan of that plan. If he ever touches you, I’ll . . .”
She reached across the table and held his hand, amused that he didn’t think she could handle herself. The waiter arrived and took their orders, bringing a bottle of champagne that Joe must have ordered before they arrived.
“Are we celebrating something?” she asked. Her stomach fluttered as an idea—a hope—as to what they might be celebrating rose.
Joe rubbed his hands together and nodded his head.
“I was going to wait for dessert to do this, but that seems ridiculous. I’m so nervous I can’t even think straight and I want to remember every second of this night.”
He stood, reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a box, then took a knee in front of her. The room went black except for him, as if he knelt in a spotlight on a dark stage. She had envisioned this moment a million times in the few months they’d been dating. Before his knee even hit the restaurant’s wooden floor, she knew her answer.
“The day we met, the world changed for me. Colors became brighter, jokes were funnier, and food tasted better. Just knowing you breathed the same air and walked the same earth as me, gave me hope I didn’t know I was looking for. And then you smiled at me and I was done. I pray every day that what you want is me, because I know I want you. I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of that honor. My lovely Lorraine, will you do me the great privilege of becoming my bride?”
Lorraine was lost in his clear brown eyes, so certain of their future, yet so reliant on her for his happiness. She felt the same. In such a short time, he had become her everything, her strength. She didn’t care that he was poor, or that her parents disapproved. She wanted to spend the rest of her life making him smile like that. He made her a better person, helping her realize she didn’t need to rely on her parents for everything. As long as his eyes were on her, she didn’t need anything else. Tears formed along with a smile, as the vision of the many years in front of them danced in her mind.
“Lorraine?” Joe whispered. “I’m going to need an answer so I can slip this ring on your finger and give you a proper kiss.”
“Yes, of course, yes.” She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close, kissing him with all the promise of a woman madly in love. The restaurant broke into applause, and Lorraine blushed, having forgotten about their audience. Joe slid the simple, modest solitaire onto her finger, kissing it, and moved his chair so he’d be sitting next to her instead of across the table, leaving his back to the restaurant.
Under the table, their legs and feet mingled
, his hands holding hers as he brought them to his lips for tender kisses.
“I think I see a flaw in my plan now. You see, I’m no longer very hungry for dinner or for an audience.”
They took their dinners to go.
“We should tell your parents tonight,” Joe said. They were parked in her blue Beetle, saying their good nights outside his small apartment. She had managed to climb onto his lap so her back leaned against the open window of the door.
“And ruin this perfect night? Why would you suggest such a thing?”
“The sooner they know, the sooner we can start planning the wedding.” He was right, of course, but she wanted to stay in this cocoon of bliss a bit longer. As if he knew what she was thinking, he continued. “If you think this is nice, imagine when we can share the same home. The same bed.”
Oh, she’d imagined it. Much to her dismay, he’d been the perfect gentleman toward her during the entire time they’d been together. She thought things might change when they took their dinner to go, but they only kissed until he pulled back—like always. He had the self-control of a vegetarian at a barbecue, while she would be stuffing burgers in her face with abandon. Unbuttoning Joe’s shirt, she trailed kisses down his neck and let her hands roam over his chest. He leaned his head back as her hands found their way to his sides, trailing up and down along his ribs as she worked her lips up to his ear, giving a little nibble. His breathing came quicker, proving he wasn’t immune to her. She enjoyed the power she had over him, seeing how far she could push him before his brakes kicked in, and wondered if she could crack his self-control tonight.
With a quick sucking in of air, he picked her up and moved her back to the driver’s seat. When they took her car, he always let her drive—something she’d never seen her father let her mother do—and she liked that.
“It’s time, my lovely.”
“You sure?” Lorraine let her lip pout. She wasn’t above using all her tools to get her way.
“No, I’m not sure in the least, which tells me everything I need to know. When we’re married, and not a moment before, I’m going to take my time exploring every inch of you. So the sooner we get married, the better. And that can’t happen until we tell your parents.”
She nodded in reluctant agreement, started up the car, and drove to her parents’ house. They waited, hand in hand, for her parents to return from the club, in the dark, wood-paneled living room, on the bright orange sofa that matched the plaid carpet. The goldenrod drapes tied it all together, or so her mom said. Nothing in this room was comfortable. It was meant to be looked at and not enjoyed, like everything else in her parents’ world—it was all for appearances.
They didn’t have to wait long. When they heard the door close, Lorraine rose to greet them in the hallway.
“Darling, I didn’t expect you to be up. Are you feeling better?” her mother asked, moving to place the back of a hand on her forehead. Lorraine ignored the question and plowed on with purpose.
“Mom, Dad. Can you join me in the living room? I have something I need to tell you.”
Her mother’s face scrunched in confusion while her father’s turned to stone. He knew. Maybe not exactly what, but he knew that something was amiss under his roof the way a wolf knows there is an intruder in his territory. Lorraine moved quickly to stand next to Joe in front of the lannon stone fireplace they never used. Her parents paused, startled.
“Who is this young man?” her mother asked. Lorraine had completely forgotten that her mother had never met the man who consumed her entire being, but it was clear from his expression that her dad remembered Joe. His nostrils flared at Lorraine’s disobedience, but he remained silent. Lorraine knew her mother was the weak link: if she could gain her support, her father might tolerate the union.
“Mom, this is Joseph Sandowski. We’ve been dating for a few months, and it’s gotten serious. He proposed to me tonight. I said yes. We’re getting married.” As Lorraine said the words, her heart wanted to squeal with joy. She was going to marry Joe!
Joe stepped forward with his right arm extended to shake her hand. Her mom didn’t move forward to meet him. Not a good sign.
“I don’t understand,” her mother said as her dad finally found his voice, roaring over his wife’s soft-spoken tone.
“Get out of this house. You are not marrying my daughter.” He grabbed Joe by the arm and pulled him toward the exit. “I already told her you weren’t good enough for her. I still mean it. I forbid it.”
Joe yanked his arm free and stepped out of arm’s reach. Even now, he was unintimidated by her father’s thunder.
“Stop it, Dad!” Lorraine shouted. “I am marrying him, whether you like it or not. I love him. He loves me. If anyone is not good enough, it’s me. Look at how my family is treating him. You’re trying to shove him out the door, and Mom can’t finish a thought. You’ll just need to get used to the idea and then you’ll see.”
“He is a used-car salesman, young lady. You will not marry a glorified grease monkey and struggle for the rest of your life. I didn’t work this hard to see my daughter have a worse life than my own.” Her father’s face reddened with each word as her mom stood still in his shadow. Tears sizzled on Lorraine’s cheeks.
Joe’s nostrils flared, but he let Lorraine take the lead. She loved him all the more for it.
“I’m marrying Joe. Accept it.”
“Then get out from under my roof. You marry that man and you are no longer my daughter.” Her mom opened her mouth to protest, but her father pointed a finger in her direction. “Not one word.” Her mother started to cry silently—a skill she had learned over the years. Today was not the day her mother was going to stand up for herself. “You have fifteen minutes to gather some clothes.”
He slammed the door to his office.
“Mom?” Lorraine couldn’t believe he would actually kick her out, make her choose between her fiancé and her parents. How could he disown her? Her mom only shook her head and left the room. They were really letting her go, just like that. Joe laced his fingers with hers.
“I can’t ask you to give up your family. I understand.”
His face told her he meant it. He would let her go if that was what she wanted.
She looked directly into the face of her future. “How could I choose them over you?” She kissed him softly on the lips, letting her loss and joy mix together. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
She stuffed clothes and a few treasured books into her matching powder blue suitcases and they were married a few days later. Joe was a partner, not a provider, their marriage would never be the cold, uneven relationship her parents shared.
Together, they’d walked out the door and into their new life, the life that would bring Lorraine’s two beautiful girls to this moment by her hospital bed, wanting answers to questions she couldn’t give voice to.
HAVE YOU EVER FELT OVERWHELMED AND WANTED TO GIVE UP?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
May hated it here. Everything about the hospital reminded her of her dad and the day he died. The air so filtered it didn’t smell like anything. The stark, easy-to-clean surfaces everywhere. The cords. The machines. The odd spigots on the walls. Sure, they all had a purpose. Not enough air, breathe here. Not enough fluid, hook up here. Can’t pee on your own, there’s a tube for that. It made her skin crawl.
Using an earring post she’d taken from her ear, she yanked at another thread from her jeans, carefully unweaving it rather than pulling it out. She hadn’t looked at Grandma Lorraine since the first quick greeting when they walked in the room. Grandma had never been the type of grandma who would bake cookies or color at the kitchen table. That was more like Grandma Zoberski, her dad’s mom. She lived near Aunt Roza but spent the winters in Arizona at a giant resort for old people.
May always felt like Grandma Lorraine was studying her, looking for what she was doing wrong, like not standing straight or not speaking clearly. So, she tried to stay out of Grandma Lorraine’s line of
sight when they were in the same room. May thought she’d be glad that Grandma Lorraine couldn’t bark suggestions at her, but instead, it made her sad. It meant something had changed, and change was never good. Change combined with a hospital? The worst.
The only upside was that her mom was too focused on Grandma Lorraine to pay any attention to her. If they had to spend all day together, she didn’t want to have to pretend everything was better. It wasn’t, not really. How could it be when she couldn’t text Connor or Olivia? They probably thought she was going dark again.
Oh my God, Connor’s mom was here.
“Good morning.” Dr. Patel zoomed into the room, her hair pulled into a neat ponytail, showing off her freckles. Connor had a few, but they were difficult to see on his much darker skin. May had seriously been hoping to avoid his mom. She slouched in her chair but could feel Dr. Patel’s crisp blue eyes on her.
“Morning,” her mom said back. “May, don’t you have something you wanted to say to Dr. Patel?” They had talked about this on the way to the hospital. But she didn’t want to say anything. The silence stretched out like taffy. Her mom gave her the Mom-sending-message-look. Fine.
“I’m sorry for giving wine to Connor. That was wrong and inappropriate. And for having him over without supervision.” She didn’t really want to get into too many details, not with so many adult eyes on her. She had practiced in her head once her mother had decreed she would need to apologize. The words were well rehearsed and clear, though she really didn’t regret his unsupervised visit. The wine—yes.
“Thank you for saying so, May. That means a lot. But I’m sure Connor played his part, too.”
May wasn’t going to respond to that. She knew that they knew about Connor and her making out, but she didn’t want to talk about it with them or near them, ever.
The Optimist's Guide to Letting Go Page 14