Improvisation

by Karis Walsh

  “Double cheeseburger, onion rings, and a cherry malt, please,” Tina said, when the kid who was acting as fry cook came over to take their order. Apparently, he performed every job in the place.

  “Ugh, how can you eat all that?” Peter asked. He sighed and put the paper menu back in its metal holder. “Same for me. And I hope you have a cardiologist on call. Now, what’s up?”

  Tina watched their waiter dump a pile of onion rings into a vat of oil. She doubted it had been cleaned since Jan had been a freshman in college. “How do you remember our childhood?” she finally asked. “I mean, the times when my parents and I would come visit.”

  Peter hesitated. “I don’t think my memories are as bad as yours,” he said, sounding as if he was treading cautiously.

  Cautious or not, Tina felt her anger simmer. Rage seemed so close to the surface these days. “Are you saying I just imagined all the fights? The bitterness?”

  “Oh, I think the bitterness is very real,” he said. He nudged her with his elbow. “A joke. Sorry. And no, I don’t think everything was perfect.”

  “Not perfect,” Tina said with a snort. “There’s an understatement.”

  “But it also wasn’t as bad as you remember,” he said. “I guess I had a different perspective. First, my dad stayed here in Spokane while yours moved away, so Gran wasn’t angry with him. Most of the time, she seemed like a fairly normal grandmother. Never affectionate, but at least not hostile.”

  “What an accomplishment. She should have it engraved on her Grandmother of the Year trophy.”

  “Second,” Peter continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “You were a child. You were caught in the middle of a very emotional situation, and you couldn’t understand any of the subtext. I grew up around the family, so eventually I was either told or I figured out what was going on in the background, what emotions made Gran lash out in anger.”

  Tina had a sudden vision of her and Jan arguing. Jan’s words had stung, but Tina had been able to see Jan’s pain and fear behind them. Jan just hadn’t trusted her enough to let her get close, to give Tina a chance to prove herself. “So, please tell me, what excuses did Gran give you for yelling at my mom?”

  “No excuses,” Peter said. He paused while the cook set their food on the counter. “But my dad, Gran, everyone—they loved your father. Uncle Pete was always the favorite in the family. He moved away soon after our grandfather died, and Gran was very upset. She had a lot of built-up resentment because she had never wanted to move to the States in the first place, and I think she felt abandoned when she lost both of the men she loved in one year. She was probably angry with your dad, but no one ever seemed to get mad at him, so Gran took it out on your mom, instead. He was caught in the middle.”

  “Not just on my mom,” Tina said. She yanked a straw out of its paper sleeve and stuffed it through the plastic lid on her malt. “She had plenty to say about me, too.”

  Peter took a huge bite of his burger and wiped ketchup off his chin. “Well, you were a horrible little brat.”

  Tina stared at him. “How dare you. Do I need to kick your ass? Because I can, you know.”

  Peter groaned as he shoved an onion ring in his mouth. “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten,” he said dramatically. “Okay, you win. You were a perfect little angel.” He paused, and then gave a snort of laughter. “But remember the snake incident? Gran still won’t get her own mail out of the box. She picks it up at the post office.”

  Tina laughed along with him and took a bite of her burger, suddenly feeling hungry. “Thank God, Lindsay was there, so we could blame her. Not that she’d ever have been brave enough to pick up a snake. You weren’t either, as I recall.”

  “You were something,” Peter said. “Never afraid of anything.”

  Tina wiped grease off her fingers with a paper napkin. She had been brave back then. But the transition from wild child to adult, after her dad died and her mom was diagnosed, had been too abrupt to handle, without replacing some of the bravery with caution. She had learned how to protect herself.

  Peter lifted his paper cup and tapped it against hers. “But we’ve had a chance to get to know one another again, and I’m glad about that.”

  “Me, too,” she said, without reservation. “I know Dad would be happy about it, too. He probably would have dragged us to Spokane every damned year if he hadn’t died. Maybe, eventually, he would have forced us to get along through sheer stubbornness.”

  “Yeah, Dad always said Uncle Pete was as mule headed as Gran.” He patted her on the arm. “Luckily, the trait skipped a generation and left you so tractable.”

  Tina swiped one of his onion rings. “Hilarious. But thanks,” she said, sobering a little. “For talking this out with me. I might have liked seeing you and Lindsay more as we got older, but Mom really didn’t want anything to do with the family after we lost Dad.”

  “That’s not quite true,” Peter said, his voice soft. “She and my dad communicated quite often. She had a lawyer in Seattle, but she turned to him for legal advice all the time. That’s how Gran knew when she needed hospice care, and why she contacted you about helping pay for it.”

  Tina stared at him. “But why didn’t Mom…”

  He patted her arm awkwardly. “She was making preparations, writing her will…She probably didn’t want to upset you.”

  After a pause, Peter started talking about some of the handmade planters he had ordered for his new farmers’ market booth. Tina listened as he talked, adding her advice for how to market the artisanal products, but part of her mind was preoccupied. Traveling back in time and reevaluating what she’d seen through the eyes of a child.

  *

  Jan leaned on her desk and watched her student struggle through a theorem at the whiteboard. It was always a challenge to keep the kids interested in math and learning, but the last two weeks of school were especially trying. Polygons and postulates couldn’t compete with prom and graduation and the lure of summer breezes just outside the window. But she could barely keep her mind focused on work, so she couldn’t fault the restless teenagers for their inattentiveness.

  She finally gave up the pretense of teaching and told her class to study quietly for the last five minutes, until the bell rang. While they pretended to read their textbooks, she sat at her desk and pretended to write something of great importance. They were actually whispering and passing notes—clearly not geometry-related, and she sketched a series of interlocking hexagons on a piece of paper—clearly not important at all. Shapes and forms. They had always seemed so comforting to her. Well-defined. Easily measured. Even the shapes on a woman’s body attracted her. Circles and triangles, begging to be traced and studied and appreciated. Jan’s first impressions of Tina had been defined by the planes and angles of her face, the proportions of her measurements. But the simple, clear shape of Tina had changed, had gained dimension and depth, and suddenly there was more to her—more complexity and variability—than Jan could handle.

  The bell finally rang, and Jan dismissed her class. She headed to the break room and aimed for the coffeepot. She needed a caffeine boost if she hoped to make it through her next few classes. Chloe was sitting in the corner of the room, at a small round table, and Jan took her heavily sweetened coffee and joined her.

  “Mind if I sit?” she asked. Chloe was reading, and she started when Jan spoke. She blushed and quickly stuffed the magazine in her briefcase, but not before Jan saw a picture of a bride on the glossy cover.

  “Oh my God! Are you engaged?”

  Chloe shushed her and glanced around the room. It was empty except for the two of them.

  “No one else is here, so I think we’re safe,” Jan said with a laugh. “So, did Peter propose?”

  “Not yet,” Chloe admitted. “But he’s been acting strangely, and I think he’s planning something. But, please, don’t say anything in case I’m misreading him.”

  “He won’t hear a word from me,” Jan promised. Tina might claim she didn’t wa
nt any ties or obligations to others, but she had somehow managed to snare Jan in a web of relations. A growing friendship with Chloe, more contact with Andy and Brooke, a sense of belonging with Peter and his musical friends. But her only real connection to Peter was through Tina, so she doubted she’d be seeing him much, from now on.

  Chloe went on to prove her wrong. “If he does ask me, I’d want you…I mean if you wouldn’t mind…to be my maid of honor.”

  Jan stared at her. “Me?” she finally asked. She liked Chloe, but she was surprised by the request. “I’d be glad to, of course, but if you’re only asking because I was there when you met—”

  “Jan, I’m asking because you’re my closest friend,” Chloe said with a shake of her head.

  “I am?” Jan blurted out. She realized too late how rude the words sounded, but Chloe laughed.

  “I hate to break it to you, but yes. I didn’t know anyone in Spokane when I took this job, and you’ve been so nice to me.”

  “Well then, I’d be honored. Sorry to sound surprised.” Jan struggled to explain her reaction. “I moved around a lot before I settled here, so I’m not used to having close friends. I guess I learned to keep my distance because I was always expecting to move away.”

  “Tough, isn’t it?” Chloe asked. “We moved a few times while I was growing up. It was hard to make new friends, but I loved reading, so the first thing my parents did every time we moved to a new city was get me a library card. It made me feel at home.”

  “My dad signed me up for art classes whenever he could. I liked sculpture, especially. Forming things with my hands.”

  “It’s easier to carry books from place to place than pieces of sculpture,” Chloe said with a laugh.

  Jan thought back to the careful way her dad packed every piece she had made. He still had them and had insisted on bringing them when he moved into her house. The prints of fighter planes had been left hanging on the apartment walls, but her naïve artwork covered every surface in the rose-colored room. “You’re right. Dad spent a fortune on Bubble Wrap over the years.”

  “How is he doing?” Chloe asked, her voice soft. After her dad’s last appointment with the doctor, Jan had finally confided in Chloe about his prognosis. She was relieved she had, since she no longer had Tina as confidante.

  “He’s well, thanks. It’ll be nice to have the summer together. I’ve been planning lots of day trips for us.”

  “Just be sure to take some time out for you, too,” Chloe said. “Peter and I are happy to check in on him, anytime. Actually, Peter was really touched when Tina asked him to help the other day.”

  “When Tina asked…what?”

  “When you went to the bluegrass festival. Tina gave your dad Peter’s number in case he needed someone to call while you were out of town. I thought you knew. Did you have fun?”

  Chloe glossed over Tina’s act as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Jan was overwhelmed by Tina’s effort to take care of her and her dad. Such a small gesture, but it had a huge impact on her ability to breathe. She winced when she remembered calling Tina untrustworthy.

  “Um, it was fun,” she said. The festival was a blur to her now. The night after? So vividly etched in her mind, she could scarcely go a minute without recalling some part of it. She had fought hard to keep from going, from changing plans at the last minute, from being spontaneous and adventurous instead of…What had Tina called her? Oh, yes, rigid and inflexible. Jan sighed. She missed Tina, but she had to be realistic. The novelty of helping Jan and her dad would have worn off soon, and Tina would have inevitably left. At least, the Tina Jan imagined she knew—the shallow playgirl—would have left. The real Tina was proving to be much more complex.

  “So, show me your magazine,” Jan said, desperate to change the subject. “And, please, tell me I don’t have to wear a big frilly dress.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tina closed her computer program and rubbed a hand wearily over her eyes. Thursday night. She had spent too many hours staring at the screen, watching images from Jan’s life flash in front of her as she finished editing Glen’s DVD. She knew she was only torturing herself as she played the movie over and over, but the small thrill she felt when she saw Jan’s face, her smile, was worth the pain when reality hit, yet again. She had opened up to Jan, offering to try for more of a relationship than her usual weekend flings, but Jan wasn’t interested. She refused to look past Tina’s reputation, past the surface charm Tina wore too easily, and see the real person inside. Tina didn’t fit Jan’s preplanned idea of a partner, and she refused to make any effort to modify her expectations. Tina knew, deep down, that what they could have had together would have far surpassed any perfect relationship Jan had imagined. Tina believed she and Jan would have made a great team, dealing with the messy past and complicated future together.

  But Jan didn’t agree, and Tina was left alone to deal with the present. Including her family. Part of the reason she had stayed so engrossed in editing was to keep her mind off tonight’s celebration of Peter’s birthday. A big party would have been manageable, but an intimate dinner with close relatives was a frightening prospect. And if she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be on time. Her grandmother would probably love a chance to criticize her tardiness, and Tina was tempted to arrive late just to antagonize her, but tonight was about Peter, not about her own issues. So she hurried into black jeans and a forest-green blouse, grabbed her violin and small amp, and pushed the speed limit through Spokane’s residential streets.

  “Tina! Right on time,” Uncle Nick said as he opened the door and hugged her with one arm, while he tugged the amp out of her hand with the other. “I’m glad you brought the fiddle, so we can have a little family jam session later. Just like old times.”

  He cleared his throat and turned away from her, leading the way into the living room. She knew he meant her father when he talked about old times. She had been too young to play much when she had visited as a child. A wave of unanticipated sadness came over her as she followed him down the so-familiar hall. She had never come here alone before, and the influx of memories made her miss her parents. For a second, she wished Jan were with her, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring squeeze. But Tina could handle this alone. She had no other choice.

  Nick set her amp in a corner of the room, and Tina followed with her instrument case. She said a stiff hello to her grandmother and greeted Peter and Chloe, before her Aunt Miriam came out of the kitchen and enveloped her in a tight, cinnamon-scented hug.

  “It’s so good to have you in our home again,” Miriam said when she finally let go and Tina could breathe again.

  “It’s…nice to be here,” Tina said awkwardly. She inhaled again. Nutmeg, warm spices, cream cheese, such familiar scents. “Do I smell gingerbread?” she asked.

  “You remembered,” Miriam said with a catch in her voice, giving Tina another hug. “Every birthday, every holiday, it’s the only dessert I’m allowed to make. I have books full of recipes, but God forbid I suggest something different.”

  “And she stopped trying after the chocolate cake fiasco of 1998,” Peter said, ducking as his mom snapped him with her towel.

  “Let’s go out to the patio, I think the grill should be ready,” Miriam said. “Get Tina a drink, dear.”

  “I suppose you’ve grown out of juice in sippy cups, haven’t you?” Nick asked with a laugh once the others went outside and left the two alone.

  “As long as it has vodka in it, I’m still fine with juice,” Tina said. “But I’d prefer whiskey on the rocks.”

  He dropped several cubes of ice in a glass. “I mentioned the work you’ve been doing for Peter to a few of my friends,” he said as he poured her a generous drink. “I hope you don’t mind, but a couple of them wanted to see more, and I showed them the ads you’ve created.”

  She took the drink when he offered it to her. He didn’t seem inclined to rush out and join the others, so she leaned her elbow on the bar and took a sip of whiskey. “
Of course I don’t mind.” She hesitated, wanting to seem indifferent about anyone else’s opinion but curious to hear, at the same time. The scope of this project had been new and challenging for her, especially since she’d been juggling the turmoil of her relationship with Jan at the same time, but she had loved the work. She hoped the end product was as professionally successful as it had been personally satisfying. “What’d they think?” she asked in a casual voice.

  Nick patted her on the shoulder. “They were both very impressed. With your use of colors and visuals, but also with your ability to carry a theme and a concept throughout the whole campaign.” He paused. “I know you’re almost finished with Peter’s project, and you’ll probably be heading back to Seattle soon. But if you decide to stay in Spokane longer, I could put you in touch with some good contacts. I’m sure you’d have as much work as you could handle.”

  “Wow, thanks Uncle Nick,” Tina said. “I’m not sure what my plans are yet, but I’ll let you know.” She followed him out to the patio, stunned by her equivocation. A month ago, she would have vehemently refused to consider staying in Spokane even a second longer than necessary, and now she was struck by her desire to meet with Nick’s friends. Only because she was flattered to have her work appreciated, of course. And maybe, just a little, because she had enjoyed rediscovering Peter and most of her family.

  But she knew the real reason she wanted to stay was the one factor that would make it impossible to do so. She wanted to be near Jan, to hold on to the hope of a future with her. But staying in Spokane without being with Jan would be unbearable.