by Jay Quinn
“Sven’s told me we can come back whenever we want. Could you picture us staying here, just the two of us, while he and Rob are off on one of their trips?” Karl ventured happily.
Caroline sighed with pleasure as she pulled her blouse on over her head. “That would be heavenly.”
As she turned to the mirror over the low bench and combed her wet hair, Karl said, “We just have to make it happen.”
Caroline found his face in her mirror and said emphatically, “We will.”
At last, dressed and hungry, they left the outdoor shower and went into the kitchen. Rob and Sven were finishing their sandwiches and smiled and nodded as they came in. Sven swallowed and said, “So, how do you like our outdoor spa?”
“I’d shower out there every day,” Caroline said as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat down.
“Your sandwiches are on the counter.” Sven pointed. “Rob, looks like we’re up next.
Rob swallowed the last of a glass of milk and stood, taking Sven’s paper plate and used napkin to the trash along with his own. “I’ll get the towels and shampoo,” he said as he made his way toward the rear of the house.
Karl picked up two paper plates holding chicken sandwiches with lettuce and tomato on the side. He carried them to the table and sat one plate before Caroline before taking a seat himself.
“What can I get you to drink?” Sven asked as he stood.
“Just water, please, for both of us,” Caroline told him.
Sven walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. As he put them on the table, Rob reappeared with their towels and a bottle of shampoo. “Melanie’s plate is ready, too, whenever she gets in,” Sven told them. “I hope the sandwiches are okay.”
Both chewing with obvious relish, Karl and Caroline nodded.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Rob said as he stepped past the table and opened the door for Sven. Together, they went outside to shower.
Karl looked at Caroline and raised his eyebrows knowingly as he chewed.
Caroline managed a sly smile in return.
“What are you two smirking about?” Melanie asked as she strode into the kitchen, fully dressed, with carefully dried hair.
“I was just thinking today was the first time I’ve washed someone else’s hair since you learned to bathe yourself,” Karl told his daughter and laughed. “Your sandwich is on the counter and there are drinks in the refrigerator,” he added.
Caroline took the last bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before she swallowed and said, “Mel, now I know why you were always so eager to come visit your uncles. This little house is wonderful, and the town is like something out of the 1950s. I love it here.”
Melanie picked up her sandwich plate and joined her parents at the table. “I love it, too.”
“Don’t you want something to drink?” her mother asked her.
“Not right now,” Melanie answered around a mouthful of her sandwich. “I’m starved.”
“I wish we could just stay here until we have to go to the airport,” Karl said wistfully. “I really dread going back over to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Why is that?” Caroline asked him carefully.
Karl sighed. “It’s all just so final, in a way. This will be the last time I can ever go home.”
Caroline reached across the table and touched his hand. “Knowing that must be difficult. But if you think about it, that house hasn’t been your home for a long time.”
“I know,” Karl said. “But somewhere, deep inside, when you say home, you automatically think of the place your mother and father live.”
“That’s true,” Melanie said. “I think of home as being where you two are.”
“That’s funny,” Caroline said thoughtfully. “I don’t feel that way at all. When I think of home, I think of where you two are.”
“Maybe that’s a Mom thing,” Melanie said.
“Well, they had to leave the house sooner or later,” Karl said sadly. “But there’s more to it than that. I just hate the idea of going back and facing the fact that they are both so frail and so close to being gone. I just don’t want to say good-bye.”
Caroline nodded sympathetically but said nothing. Melanie looked at him, but she had nothing to say, either. Karl took a sip of water and looked at the clock on the stove. The day was slipping away fast. The momentum of the visit had swept him to this point of stillness, and that soon would be gone as well.
They wouldn’t have more than an hour at his parents’ house before it would be time to leave for the airport. An hour was not such a long time to endure, nor was it sufficient time to try and convey what he was feeling. And what Karl was feeling at the moment was inchoate and unformed. He pictured his mother and father curled together in the golden light of their afternoon nap, as he had left them on Friday. At the time he had thought his heart would break at the knowledge that they were so utterly alone in that quiet house. Soon he would be leaving them there again.
But they wouldn’t be there for long. Their imminent move to Palladian Gardens was heartening to him. Somehow, he thought they must be looking forward to it with some degree of excitement and pleasure. His father had spoken of the pending move as if he would be on permanent vacation. His mother spoke of it not at all. She knew which wing of the building would be her final home, and there was nothing to look forward to there. While Frank planned to spend his remaining years in front of a sixty-inch LCD TV, Annike faced years of wandering in the past, if she was aware of anything at all. Karl felt he couldn’t leave them, but he knew there was no way he could stay. In the truest sense of it, they were leaving him, and about that he had no say.
“We’d better finish getting dressed and get our bags zipped up,” Caroline suggested.
Karl nodded and stood. Like Rob, he gathered his lunch things and dumped them in the trash. “I’m ready to go home,” he said. They all knew which home he meant at that moment. It sat waiting, a two-hour flight away.
19
WHEN SVEN PULLED his SUV up to Frank and Annike’s drive, Melanie had to brake sharply to keep from running Annike’s car into the back of it. Karl instinctively threw out an arm to brace himself against the dash as the car lurched with its own momentum before it came to a full hard stop. Before Karl could ask Melanie what was going on, a Range Rover with a realtor’s magnetic sign backed leisurely into the street from the drive alongside Sven’s car. Karl caught a glimpse of a young woman and two small boys before their curious faces pulled away.
Sven turned his big vehicle into the drive and Melanie cut her wheels hard to the left in order to swing wide and pull up on the drive beside the SUV. Annike and Frank stood on the front porch, waving at them as they all unbuckled themselves and got out of the two cars.
“Your timing is perfect,” Frank called out as they closed their doors.
“That was the Lawrences,” Annike explained. “This is the third time they’ve come to look at the house.”
“Maybe this time they’ll make an offer,” Frank said as his family joined them on the porch.
“They have two small boys,” Annike said wistfully. “It would be so nice to sell this house to another young family just starting out like we were.
“We weren’t just starting out,” Frank said truculently. “We’d been married for fourteen years when we moved into this house.”
“Yes, but with Sven just an infant, and you starting a new job, in a whole new state, it was like starting over,” Annike replied firmly.
“Hello, you two,” Sven said with a smile. “Mom, are you feeling better?”
“Yes, dear,” she replied sweetly. “I was a little foggy this morning, but I’m feeling better now. Come in. All of you.”
“Why don’t we sit in the sunroom?” Frank said as he led them through the house. Once they walked into the bright room, he went straight to claim his favorite chair and sat down.
“Can I get anyone anything to drink?” Anni
ke offered.
Karl looked around the room and watched as Rob, Sven, Caroline, and Melanie found places to sit. In turn, each of them declined Annike’s offer. “We just ate lunch a little while ago,” Karl said as he waited for his mother to sit.
Annike looked at her oldest son fondly and said, “Karl, would you come with me for a little while?”
Karl cocked his head and looked at his mother curiously but said, “Sure. Where are we going?”
Annike addressed the room, saying, “You won’t mind if I steal a few minutes alone with Karl, will you?”
“Where are you going?” Frank demanded.
“For a walk around the block,” Annike said evenly. In reply to her husband’s concerned look, she said, “We won’t be gone long.”
Frank nodded and turned to Melanie. “So, how did you enjoy church this morning? Father Raul is pretty good, isn’t he?”
Before Karl could hear Melanie’s response, his mother was by his side and taking his hand. “Come,” she said. Karl obliged her with a smile and allowed himself to be led back through the house to the front door. As he opened the door and stepped back to let his mother pass, she let go of his hand and said, “Your father told me all of you came to church this morning, even Rob. I’m sorry I wasn’t quite all there. I really appreciate you coming.”
Karl stepped through the door and closed it behind them. “I actually went for your benefit, but it turned out I was glad I did. I guess if you’re brought up in the church, you miss it as an adult if you get out of the habit of going.”
Annike walked down the narrow path to the drive with Karl following behind her. Once they reached the street and Karl joined her at her side, she said, “I’m pleased you got something out of mass for your own sake.”
“It was an odd feeling,” he told her honestly. “But I felt some of the comfort you promised.”
Annike looked up at him and nodded her head. As she began to stroll down the street, she said, “Thank you for accompanying me on this little walk. I wanted to have some time alone with you to say good-bye.”
“I’ll see you again, Mom,” Karl promised. “I’m already thinking about coming back as soon as you and Dad get settled in your apartment.”
“Don’t,” Annike said calmly. “I’d rather you remember me as you’ve seen me today, right now, not when I’ve become an animated doll.”
“Mom, I’d never see you that way,” Karl protested.
“Yes, you would,” Annike said plainly. “I won’t be myself soon. And I want to save you from going through that grim period. Look around now. It’s a lovely afternoon with flowers and sunshine. Please remember me here. Don’t visit me when I’m drooling and vacant.”
“I am so frightened for you,” Karl managed to say. “I’ll have to know you’re okay. I’ll need to know you are not frightened or sad or…”
“Karl,” Annike said sharply. “It won’t be like that for me. If it’s going to be anything like what I’ve been experiencing, it’s quite peaceful. It’s not unpleasant. What is unpleasant is the struggle to stay, to make myself understand or to be understood. I’ll be okay, I promise you.”
“You have no idea how much I want to believe that,” Karl said. He stared down the sleepy Sunday-afternoon street and sighed.
“You can believe it, my dear. It’s true,” Annike told him. “All I have to do is let go. Your father will make sure they give me the best care available, and he won’t be satisfied until he sees it for himself. He’ll only be a building away. I know he’ll care for me as he always has.”
“But what about me?” Karl demanded. “You are still my mother, even after you’re unaware that I’m even there.”
“Son, you’ve more than met my expectations of you all your life,” Annike said soothingly. “You are and have always been a wonderful son. I know that as long as I live and after I’m gone, you’ll think of me and love me, but your responsibility for me has come to an end.”
“I’m not ready to hear that,” Karl said miserably. “I can’t pretend you’re dead. That’s too much for you to ask. Never to see you again, or hug you? No, Mama. You can’t ask that of me.”
Annike turned the corner of the street and made her way on alone as Karl’s steps faltered and he fell behind. He watched her walking away, her back held ramrod straight and her shoulders back. “Mom,” he called out.
Annike continued walking but motioned for him to catch up.
Karl quickened his pace and caught up to her in three long strides. “Mom, slow down,” he said earnestly.
Annike laughed and turned her head to look up at him. “No, Karl, you must keep up. Life goes by so quickly, and if you stop to linger or regret, it goes on without you. I don’t want to leave you with any regrets, do you understand? You have nothing to regret as far as I am concerned. You have been a joy to me all of your life. You’ve given me a wonderful granddaughter and you’ve kept all of your promises to me. Please, Karl, let me go on now without any regrets of my own.”
“I’m not ready to tell you good-bye,” Karl said honestly. “As long as I can still see you, and hope that you’ll know me, it won’t be like you’re gone.”
Annike kept her even pace along the street, not saying anything for a while as she looked at the familiar houses along the way. Finally, she stopped in front of a house rather like her own. The garage door was open to reveal a cheerful mess of Jet Skis, bicycles, tools, and an inflated boat. In the front yard were abandoned brightly colored toys and a cheerful banner showing an Easter bunny with pastel-colored eggs. “Do you remember the Mazzatellis? There was Tony and Lois. They had their four kids; I think Scotty was your age.”
It took Karl a moment, but he did recall the family. Scotty Mazzatelli had been someone he played basketball with, just another kid from the neighborhood, but he did remember him. “Yes, I knew Scotty, they lived here, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” his mother said as she studied the house. “Tony died six years ago. Liver cancer. The kids are scattered all over the country. Lois lived here after Tony passed away. I used to see her working in her yard when I went for my walks. We talked. We knew each other from church. Lois was in the choir at ten-thirty mass; she had a wonderful voice.”
“And what happened? Did she move?” Karl asked with minimal interest. He had no idea why his mother had picked out this house to reminisce about the neighbors, but he decided to humor her.
“Well, like I said, I was used to seeing her out in the yard—then I didn’t anymore. We started going to eight o’clock mass, so I didn’t see her in church. I didn’t think anything about it until about six months ago, when I heard what happened to her.” Annike paused and looked Karl in the face before she continued. “One of her kids, the older boy, I think, came home to see her and found her living in filth. She had been smearing her own feces on the walls. God only knows what she’d been eating or how she’d been functioning. It turns out Lois had dementia, too. Her son put her in a nursing home, but she didn’t live long after that,” Annike concluded.
“Why are you telling me this, Mom?” Karl asked sadly.
Slowly, Annike began to walk again, and Karl followed along beside her. “You want to keep things as they were. That’s not going to happen. Who’s to say I won’t become as bad as Lois, playing with my own shit. Do you think I want you to see that? Do you think I want you to see me that way?”
“No, Mama. I know you don’t want that,” Karl answered her, frustrated. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. No matter what, I’ll still see you as my mom. I’ll still love you as much and need you as much, no matter what.”
Annike swept her arm in front of her and said, “You walk down these streets in the old neighborhood and you say, look at how it’s changed. The young people are moving in. I walk these blocks and I see ghosts. Bob and Kathy DeSantos were killed by a burglar. Cancer. Strokes. Suicide. They’ve all come through here. Frank and I are among the last ones left who moved here in the beginning,” Annike said u
nwaveringly.
“So are you glad you’re moving to Palladian Gardens, then? Away from all these ghosts?” Karl asked her gently.
“No,” Annike said firmly. “I’m telling you I’m glad I’m losing my mind. I am tired, Karl. I am ready to die,” she said simply.
“Oh, Mama,” Karl pleaded, “don’t give up on us yet.”
Annike laughed. “I’m not giving up on you,” she said firmly. “I’m just giving up on myself. Now, listen to me carefully, Son. I am lucky to have the chance to tell you the things I want to tell you. Many of these other people never got the chance to say good-bye to their loved ones. I want you to know I love you very much, but I don’t want you to worry or grieve for me. Everything is going to be alright. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, Mama,” he said. “But I can’t say good-bye, not today,” his voice quivered and he found himself slipping into a comfortless feeling of abandonment and fear. Unapologetically, he felt himself begin to cry as he said, “Don’t leave me, Mama.”
They turned another gentle loop that brought them back to Annike’s street and within sight of the house. Annike stopped and reached out her arms to her son. Karl stepped into his mother’s embrace, unembarrassed by the emotion they displayed on the street. “I love you so much, Mama,” he whispered. “You have been a wonderful mother and a friend. Can’t you understand that I can’t just hug you good-bye now and act like you’ve died? There are so many more things to tell you, to share with you. Don’t push me away.”
In reply, she held him tighter against her small frame, and then at last she did push him away and stood, smiling up at him. “I thank you for everything you’ve said, Karl. But where I’m going, you can’t come. I let you go so you could become a man. Now you must learn to let me go so I can be free to slip away. Everything will be okay. Don’t worry,” she said again. “Promise me?”
“I promise you, Mama,” Karl told her as he wiped his eyes awkwardly with the back of his hand. “But you know I’m lying, don’t you?”
“Only time will tell,” Annike said, “but I will never know, will I? Please be the man I know you are and keep your promise,” she said and turned to walk the rest of the way home, knowing Karl was following along just behind.