The Last House on Sycamore Street

by Paige Roberts

  “By the way, totally off topic—did you happen to get any more of our mail?”

  Amy’s heart started beating a little faster. “I think there was a letter or two. . . .” She reached into her bag.

  “Okay, great, because Julian said he actually stopped by your house yesterday to check, so that you wouldn’t have to keep bringing the mail to our playdates, but you must have been out.”

  “Really? When did he come by?”

  “I have no idea. Late afternoon maybe? Before dinner for sure.”

  Amy knew she had been home from 3:40, but he could have come while she was picking up Noah from camp. Then again, if what he was so anxious to pick up was the trust fund letter, couldn’t he have just pulled it from the mailbox himself? Or was that mail fraud, too? Amy wasn’t up to speed.

  “I was super late picking up Noah from camp, so he must have come while I was racing like a maniac down the streets of Glenside Park.”

  Amy expected to get a laugh out of Grace, or at least an acknowledgment of her attempt at humor, but instead she seemed to be doing some sort of calculation in her head. “No, I think . . . well, anyway, the point is, you brought the mail, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  Amy handed over the only two pieces of mail she had for the Durants this week: a newsletter from Ethan’s preschool, and some sort of letter from Colgate University for Grace. Grace looked at the envelopes and rolled her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry you’re still having to deal with this. At least it’s only two letters this week.”

  “It’s fine,” Amy said. “Really.”

  “Very kind of you to say that, but if it were me, I’d be a little sick of dealing with someone else’s mail by now. If Julian had just—Ethan! You stop that right now! Slow down!”

  Ethan veered precariously close to the edge of the gorge as he and Noah played some sort of chasing game. Grace ran ahead and grabbed Ethan by the arm and pulled him back.

  “What have I told you? Never get that close to the edge. Do you understand? You want to plunge into the creek and die?”

  Ethan shook his head solemnly. Noah’s widened eyes landed on Amy’s. They would be discussing death by falling off a cliff for at least two weeks.

  “Now go back to playing safely—on the other side of the trail. Okay, boys?”

  Both boys nodded their heads and scurried to the other side of the path.

  Grace sighed. “You know what I need?”

  “A stiff drink?”

  She turned and looked at Amy. “Yes, actually. How would you feel about a girls’ night out?”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. Sunday?”

  “We’re having dinner at Rob’s parents’, but Noah is usually at home in bed by eight or eight-thirty, so I could meet up after.”

  “Works for me. There’s a new brewhouse in Jenkintown—really good, and if you’re not into beer, they have good cocktails and wine, too.”

  “Sign me up.”

  “Perfect. It’ll be great to have an adult conversation that isn’t interrupted by these monsters. I mean, look at them. ETHAN! What did I tell you?” She sighed. “Is it Sunday yet?”

  * * *

  Sunday arrived before they knew it, and Amy and Rob spent the day weeding the garden while Noah ran through the sprinkler in his bathing suit. Amy hadn’t weeded in . . . come to think of it, she wasn’t sure she ever really had weeded. She remembered helping her mother occasionally in the summer, but Ellen actually enjoyed tending to her garden, so Amy’s chores revolved mostly around the dishes (cleaning them), the floors (sweeping them), and the trash cans (emptying them). Once she moved to Washington, she lived in dorms and apartments, none of which had yards, front or back. She didn’t have a lot of experience pulling up crabgrass and clover.

  And there was a lot to pull. In all of the hubbub surrounding the move—unpacking, buying new furniture, signing Noah up for camp, trying to settle in professionally—Amy and Rob had sort of forgotten about the yard. Rob mowed the lawn every week (an activity that Amy found surprisingly sexy), but otherwise, the flowerbeds were largely ignored. Then one day last week, Amy noticed every last bed was overrun by hairy, green invaders, and she realized there was more to maintaining a garden than just looking at it and smiling.

  By the time they finished, she and Rob were both smelly, sweaty messes, and Amy was pretty sure she’d pinched a nerve in her neck. She could already hear her mom mocking her (“Fancy-pants city girl can’t handle a little gardening! Now you know what real work is like.”). Amy wasn’t sure why her mother’s voice was so dismissive when she heard it in her own head. Ellen did often sneer at Amy’s relative privilege, but Amy knew there was more to it than that. Her mother’s voice somehow fused with her own conscience, the part of her that felt a little self-conscious about where she came from and guilty about leaving her family behind.

  Rob volunteered to help Noah change while Amy showered, and once the three of them were clean and dressed, they piled in the car and headed to Rob’s parents’ house in Jenkintown Manor.

  “Did Bubbe make me cake?” Noah asked as they stopped at a traffic light.

  “I don’t know, bud. Do you think you’ve been good enough for cake?” Rob gave Amy a playful look.

  “YES!” Noah shouted. He sounded a little panicked. “I wasn’t the one who tried to die by falling off a cliff.”

  Amy suppressed a groan. She’d been right: the topic had been discussed at length ever since their outing with Ethan and Grace.

  “Well, if that’s the case, then I bet Bubbe has made you cake. Or something as good as cake.”

  “Like cookies or pie or chocolate,” Noah volunteered. “Or maybe ALL of those.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Amy said, though she knew it was, indeed, a possibility that Rob’s mother, Sherrie, had prepared every baked good imaginable. She loved to spoil Noah rotten, and food was her indulgence of choice. Most visits to her house ended with Noah so hyped up on sugar that he was literally running in circles, and they needed to carry him kicking and screaming to the car. Amy appreciated Sherrie’s generosity but sometimes wished she’d tone it down.

  Rob pulled up his parents’ driveway, and Sherrie and Bruce were already standing out front, chatting with their neighbors. Like Glenside Park, the neighborhood Rob grew up in had sidewalks and tree-lined streets and the sort of friendly neighbors who regularly stopped by to say hello while they were walking their dog or taking an evening stroll.

  “BUBBE!” Noah shouted as he bolted from the car once Amy had unfastened his car seat.

  Sherrie beamed and clapped her hands together as Noah charged at her. “Look who it is!” She crouched down and gave Noah a big hug as he leapt into her arms. Amy’s heart swelled. This was why they moved. If Noah couldn’t have this relationship with her own mother, she wanted him to have it with Rob’s.

  “Did you make me cake?” Noah asked.

  “Noah!”

  Sherrie waved her off. “Of course I made you cake.”

  Noah jumped up and down. “Yay! See, I told you she’d make cake!”

  “A strawberry shortcake,” Sherrie added.

  Noah squealed. “With whipped cream?”

  “Extra whipped cream.”

  Amy thought Noah’s head might spin right off his body. “I want a big piece. A gigantic piece. Like . . . like the size of Jupiter.”

  “I’m not sure the cake is quite big enough for that.”

  Noah frowned. “How about this much?” He gestured with his hands, showing a size of cake Amy and Rob definitely would not approve.

  “That I think we can do,” Sherrie said, winking.

  She and Bruce said goodbye to their neighbors, and the group moved indoors to a screened-in porch on the side of the house. Sherrie had already put out snacks and drinks, and there was a nice breeze from a ceiling fan.

  “So,” Sherrie said, as they all took a seat around the table. “Good weekend?”

  Rob
shrugged. “Not particularly eventful, but we got some yard work done.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good. I drove by the other day and noticed your beds could use a little TLC. It’s a transition, moving from the city, isn’t it?”

  Amy knew Sherrie meant this in the nicest possible way, but she also knew that Sherrie was the type of mother (and mother-in-law) who would casually “drive by,” just to check on their property. She was house proud when it came to her own home, and since Rob was the only child in the area (his only sister lived in Arizona), the interest in home maintenance now extended to their place as well.

  “I ran through the sprinkler!” Noah exclaimed.

  “You did? That must’ve felt good.”

  “It was very”—Noah searched for the right word—“refreshing,” he finally said.

  Sherrie gave Rob a knowing smile. “Refreshing,” she repeated. “That’s a very good word, Noah.”

  Noah looked pleased with himself. He loved impressing adults.

  “What about you guys?” Rob asked as he dug into the crab dip. “Any weekend excitement?”

  “We saw an excellent movie at the Hiway,” Sherrie said. “About a foster care boy in New Zealand. Funny and touching—I highly recommend it.”

  “You want to watch Noah . . . ?” Rob joked, although Amy knew he wasn’t really joking, and she wouldn’t have been either. One of the main reasons they’d moved here was to be closer to Rob’s family—for the relationship building, of course, but also for the childcare support. But so far, his parents had been busy every weekend, and they hadn’t yet found any reliable sitters.

  “Just say the word,” Sherrie said. She gave Noah a smooch on the forehead. “I could never say no to this boy.”

  “Uh, Mom, I think you have. Several times actually.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not my fault your father and I have a social life.”

  “I’m not blaming your social life.”

  “I think you are.”

  “Mom . . .”

  “Why not try a weeknight?”

  “Because lately by the time I get home, I’m exhausted. Sit me in a darkened room, and I’ll fall asleep. No question.”

  “So take the movie part out of it. Just go to dinner.” She nodded at Bruce. “We’re free Tuesday, right?”

  Bruce gave a droll look. “Like I’m the keeper of the social calendar.. . .”

  “I just meant you don’t have golf or anything.”

  “Oh, no, no—golf is Mondays.”

  “So? What do you say? Tuesday?”

  Amy and Rob looked at each other and nodded. “Sure,” Rob said. “It’s a date.”

  “Great! It’ll be you and us, kiddo,” she said, tousling Noah’s hair. “You know, you two really should go downtown. So many restaurants to explore. There’s a new place in Passyunk Square that does . . . I don’t know, farm to table small plates or something. But it’s supposed to be very good. I think the chef was on Top Chef. Very popular.”

  “I’m guessing we won’t be able to get a table with only two days’ notice,” Amy said.

  “You never know,” she said. “Anyway, it’ll be good for the two of you to get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house too long at this point!”

  “Amy is actually going out tonight,” Rob said.

  “Tonight?” Sherrie sounded surprised.

  “With Noah’s friend’s mom,” Amy said.

  Sherrie raised her eyebrows. “You mean the woman who used to own your house?”

  Rob groaned. “Geez, Mom.”

  “Well, she is, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, but when you say it like that—”

  “We’ve actually gotten pretty friendly,” Amy said. “We certainly see enough of each other. We get the kids together at least once a week.”

  “Is it ever . . . you know, awkward?”

  Amy’s and Rob’s eyes met—only briefly, but enough for Sherrie to catch a whiff of something off.

  “Mmmmm,” she said knowingly.

  “There’s nothing awkward about the house,” Amy said quickly.

  “Then what?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  Sherrie pursed her lips. It doesn’t sound like nothing, her expression said.

  “Ethan doesn’t come over to play,” Noah said, and they all turned to look at him, as if they’d forgotten he was there. Amy knew they shouldn’t have said anything in front of him. He heard and understood more than adults gave him credit for.

  “He doesn’t?” Sherrie said.

  “Because Mommy doesn’t want him to miss his old house too much.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of her.”

  “Maybe in a year he can come,” Noah said. He smiled, as if something had occurred to him. “Hey, maybe by then we won’t get his mommy and daddy’s letters anymore!”

  Sherrie’s eyebrows lifted to nearly the ceiling, but before she could ask any questions, Amy lifted Noah’s empty glass from the table. “Looks like you need a refill, buddy,” she said. “Bubbe, would you mind?”

  * * *

  Amy and Rob managed to escape his parents’ house without another mention of the Durants. Bruce didn’t seem particularly interested in any of it, but Sherrie always loved a juicy story and could smell one a mile away, like a hungry grizzly.

  Amy didn’t like thinking about their departure as an escape—she actually really liked Rob’s parents, and she loved the way they treated Noah even more. Watching them together made her realize what she’d missed growing up. Her mom’s parents had died before Amy was old enough to remember them, and her father’s parents hadn’t ever gotten along with her mother, so once he died, they didn’t come around very much. Would her childhood have been markedly better if she’d had a Sherrie and Bruce? Probably. Rob grew up with his entire immediate family within a 20-minute drive, and to Amy the experience always sounded so cozy. Safe, really. That’s what she wanted for Noah. A safe, cozy, supported childhood. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to take risks. It was that she wanted him to feel as if he had a family network of support beneath him, like a safety net, so that he could take those risks. Already she could feel them weaving that net with Rob’s parents, and she knew it would grow even sturdier as the years went on.

  But of course the more they interwove their lives with her in-laws, the more Sherrie was going to catch wind of any minor issue that cropped up. Her relationship with Sherrie to this point had been great, but they’d also maintained that relationship from afar. Now, they would be in each other’s business all the time. The Durants were the latest bit of drama in their lives, but who knew what would be next? What if they ran into money trouble and Amy couldn’t land steady work? What if they got into a fight with their neighbors? What if there was an issue at Noah’s school? Amy realized she was going to have to put up boundaries, but ones that wouldn’t offend Sherrie and Bruce or put their relationship with Noah at risk.

  By the time they got home, it was after 8:00 (they always stayed at Rob’s parents’ later than they should), so Amy quickly changed purses and left Rob to put Noah to bed.

  “I won’t be late,” she said as she gave Rob a kiss.

  “Stay out as late as you want. You deserve it.”

  “Part of me wishes we were going out.”

  “Two days,” he said. “You and Grace will have fun tonight. It’ll be nice to talk without the kids around for once.”

  “Hey!” Noah protested. Once again, they’d forgotten he was listening.

  “Sometimes mommy needs time just with her friends,” Rob said. “It’s nothing against you and Ethan. She still loves you very much.”

  “Of course I do!” Amy squeezed Noah and kissed him on the head. “I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”

  She hurried out the door, and a sense of liberation washed over her as she turned on the engine. She knew it was a little silly. She was just going for a quick drink. But the idea of not having to do bath or story time, or answer the seemingly endless
number of questions Noah asks to get out of having to go to sleep . . . all she could hear was George Michael’s “Freedom” ringing in her ears. She was so glad Grace had suggested this. It was exactly what Amy needed.

  She found a parking spot in a lot across from the brew pub Grace had suggested and hurried across the road. The brew pub sat next to an old movie theater, one of those old-timey cinemas with neon lighted signs, promoting arthouse and indie flicks. Amy noticed they were promoting the movie Sherrie and Bruce had just seen. Maybe next weekend, Amy thought to herself.

  A friendly, college-age woman greeted Amy as she came in the door.

  “I’m meeting someone,” Amy said as she searched the room. Her eyes landed on Grace, who sat at a table along an exposed brick wall. “There she is.”

  Amy made her way across the room, a hip, industrial space with concrete floors, exposed beams, and warm wood tables surrounded by metal chairs. Grace stood as Amy approached the table.

  “You made it!” She reached in for a hug, which caught Amy a little by surprise. They’d spent a lot of time together, but it was always with the kids. Maybe tonight was the first step in developing their own friendship, separate from the boys.

  “This place looks great,” Amy said as she slid into her chair. She slung her purse over the back.

  “I know, right? Look at you, Jenkintown. Almost hip.”

  Amy laughed. Rob had always described Jenkintown as an old-fashioned town that was always on the edge of being cool, but somehow never managed to spill over that edge. From what Amy had seen, the spill was finally happening. A bunch of new restaurants had opened in the area, and the town seemed to be having a bit of a renaissance. If this brew pub was any indication, things were heading in the right direction.

  “So have you been here before?” Amy asked. “What’s good?”

  “I haven’t been, but Julian has. He says the tacos and empanadas are a must. He also recommended the IPA, but I’m more of a stout girl myself.”

  Of course she is, Amy thought. Grace seemed to embody the laid-back, stylish, guy’s girl everyone wanted to hang with in college, the kind of woman who could drink a beer and watch the football game while looking sexy and feminine and totally desirable. Amy had never been that woman, even in college, when she’d managed to turn her social life around. Even then, she was more of a cocktail and wine girl.