Remember Us

by Lindsay Blake

  “Sexist bastards.”

  “Right? Only I wasn’t jealous of him. I get it. It’s Charlie. He is the best, and we all want him, we all love him.”

  “Not everyone loves Charlie.”

  But I was in no mood for his charm. “I don’t need advice, believe me. I joined forces with him, and he was adorably happy to have me. The funny thing is, he says I’m a better shooter than he is. But a good half of our clients assume they’re getting the second-best if I’m the shooter, and at the end of the day, sometimes it’s easier to let him shoot. So I don’t know if they’re sexist or simply right. Either way, it’s exhausting.”

  “Aha. I’m sorry, Reese. Don’t you think—”

  “I’m sorry, too. If Ben comes back with that beer tell him I’ve started my AA group. I need to go for a walk. I’ll meet you in the kitchen afterwards.”

  I needed to walk off the ends of the earth. But as I stood, a honking orange apparition pulled into our driveway. Dad jumped out with a flourish as Bernice and Ben joined us on the porch.

  “I’ve made a decision,” Dad crowed and pounded the hood of the beast.

  And just like that, I knew we were in trouble.

  Bernice

  “Carl, what the Sam Hill? You left me all day without so much as a note. You, you—” But he was dancing around the van, not listening to me at all.

  “What’s up with the van, Dad?” Benjamin moved to thump on the hood of the bright orange VW.

  “I’ve been scouring the newspaper sale section and calling all over Nebraska to find a VW, but didn’t find one until today. It is circa 1975 and was very affordable. It belonged to an old lady who’d only used it to visit the grocery store and church for the past forty or so years. When she died, the van only had 20,000 miles on it.” Carl stuck out his chest. “I bought it from her grandson.”

  “A steal, Dad.” Reese looked unsure.

  “Let’s circle back around to why you bought a van,” Benjamin said.

  “We’re taking a road trip, kiddos.” Carl beamed at the twins and then moved his gaze to me.

  I bolted down the steps. “Carl, I love seeing this raw, decisive you. I told you my cooking was good for the body and the soul!” I swooped beside him and ran a manicured finger over his cheek. “You bought our VW,” I breathed into his ear, and he squeezed my hand. “And it’s so… orange.” I tried to hide my shudder. I’d always imagined a nice blue. Or a pink. Even a fun green. Orange was so, well, orange.

  I watched their faces as Carl outlined his plan—The Grand Adventure, as he called it. “We’ll take a simple two-day trip over to Mt. Rushmore and then back east to Chicago for a Cubs game. A week’s adventure, something special and bonding for the lot of us.” He made it sound so enticing with his quivering voice.

  “Because we need another cliché in our life, right?” Reese looked put out. “Bucket list has already been done, Dad.”

  “Reese, honey, I don’t know what that means, but I’ll pay for your change of ticket and write Charlie a personal note of apology for stealing you for an extra few days.” He dabbed his eyes. “We need some quality time together.”

  “Because we haven’t spent the last two months breathing the same air? What if you have a relapse, Dad?” Reese crossed her arms.

  “Ah, well, as a matter of fact, I did go see the doctor today.” Carl leaned against the van.

  “And?” Benjamin and Reese spoke together like they used to do when they were little.

  “Well.” Carl cleared his throat. “He told me I am in fact cancer free. I have a follow up appointment later in the month because there was one little—”

  “WAY TO BURY THE LEAD,” I shouted and he twirled me around.

  As Reese and Benjamin hugged their dad, I sobbed. It was like I didn’t even realize the weight we’d all been carrying until it lifted. I don’t know how long we stood there shouting and crying—it could have been an hour, maybe three. I focused through my tears to see Blake shake Carl’s hand. “Congratulations on the good news, sir.”

  Carl smiled. “Time is a slippery bugger. It gets away from us.” He mauled his eyes with the back of his hand and put his arm around me. “If you want something, go for it while you have the chance. Which is why I’m taking you all on this trip. I only wish I would have done this sooner.”

  “Dad, you just told us the news of the century; let’s not talk about your trip.”

  “It still feels too soon for you to be away from your doctor.” My stomach knotted at the thought. “Just in case.”

  “You’re all invited so you can stitch me up if I fall. Blake, you too, we’ll drop you off in Chicago, no need to take a bus.” Carl rocked back on his heels.

  “I’d forgotten how stubborn you can be.” My voice quivered.

  “Do you think we should have a family talk about codependency?” Reese’s mouth pressed into a smirk.

  Carl smiled. “I’m leaving the morning after next at dawn. You don’t have to come with me, but I sure hope you do. I’d hate to relapse on the road while I was all alone. We’ll take the VW.”

  “Dad, you’re playing all this a little over-the-top.”

  “Reesey, after my dance with death, there is a need to make a statement.” He kissed the side of her head. “Besides, I learned a few things from all my years with Bernice.” He gave me a pointed look and moved past us to the house.

  “What should we name it?” Blake drifted reverentially to the van. “Lee? As in the poet, Li-Young Lee?”

  “As in Lee Harvey Oswald or Robert E. Lee? Uh, no thanks,” Reese said.

  “As in Harper—”

  “Buddy.” Benjamin leaned close to the van. “He says his name is Buddy.”

  “That’s funny, because she told me her name was Evangeline.” Reese blew the van a kiss.

  “I don’t know why you’re all making such a fuss,” I said. “His name is Ernie.” I pointed to the name which looked as if it had been Sharpied on the left side of the bumper. “Must have been her grandson.” I scooped up Rocky and headed to the house. I had clothes to pack, brownies to bake, and nails to manicure before we hit the road, because if we were going to do this thing, I was determined to do it in style.

  The morning we left, I was up before anyone and sat on the porch with my tea. Carl joined me on the steps, while the purple-hued edges of the horizon still sank dusky.

  “I told the kids I wanted to celebrate this second chance at life. I didn’t tell them I needed this hoorah to extend the hours with my family.”

  “I don’t think you needed to tell them.” I rubbed his back.

  “Even the last of my rage at you faded after my last visit with the doctor. It gave me some perspective on what really mattered.”

  “Well,” I cleared my throat. “That’s good.” What about my feelings? I wished I had a recipe to dissipate the layers of hurt we’d buried between us.

  “I was so, so angry at you, but when I zoom out and look at the whole of my life, that anger isn’t worth holding on to.” Carl sighed and studied the distance. He grabbed my hand. “I have some things I need to do. I don’t need to race through our entire dream list; a few well-chosen activities will do. And now is the time. I’m growing my hair out, for one. True, you can’t tell yet, but soon enough there will be a silver mane on top of this old horse.”

  I ran my hand through his growing locks. “You’ve never looked more handsome.”

  “This is the Trip of Carl, and there is no time like the present to jump into my destiny.”

  “Let’s jump away.” I patted him on the shoulder and left to finish packing before I started to cry again.

  An hour later, Benjamin and Blake strolled into the kitchen wearing bow ties.

  “I thought we were supposed to dress up,” Benjamin said as Reese entered in a cap, baggy jeans, and tank top. “I guess it was a different memo.” She shook her head at them and grabbed a travel mug for coffee.

  Even in her horrifying clothes, she was striking. I watche
d Blake swallow hard. As Benjamin wrestled my two suitcases out the door, she and Blake lingered in the kitchen. She brushed her bangs aside and lightly touched his arm. “Thanks for coming along with us. I know there are some high maintenance ones amongst us,” she nodded with a cheeky smile to where I was putting away the last of the clean dishes, “but having you here is sweet.”

  I watched their hands graze as they walked outside. I followed them out to where Carl stood embracing the long golden rays of the rising sun along his body like a cat. “This is the first day of the rest of my life,” he announced to no one in particular.

  “To celebrate I have a surprise for everyone.” I pulled a stack of shirts out of my bag and held one up. “I put personalized decals on each.” I handed Blake his sheep tee with a smile. “I thought it would be fun to wear these.”

  “Oh, what did I get?” Benjamin asked. “Please tell me it’s a tiger, my obvious spirit animal.” I handed him his cookie shirt without comment—Mama knew what he needed.

  “Is fun the word we’re going with here?” Reese wrinkled her nose and unfolded her shirt. “Uh, why does mine have a horse on it?” Reese’s head was cocked so hard I thought her ear would touch her shoulder.

  “I don’t neigh, er, know.” I kept my face blank.

  “Why are they pink?” Benjamin asked. “And I thought you didn’t wear T-shirts?”

  “A lady can change her mind. And fuchsia is my favorite color,” I said. “I even made one for Rocky.” I slipped it over his cute head. His had a crown on it, of course. King Rocky.

  “Your mother spent your entire childhood trying to convince me the kitchen needed to be a bright pink with flamingo accents,” Carl said displaying the shirt I’d handed him, a pink flamingo shining on the front. I’d made myself a matching one. His and hers.

  “Like the Caribbean every day,” I said. “I wish we had shows like Property Twins or Fixer Upper back then. I would have been a contestant for sure. It’s easier for them to work with people like me who already have a refined sense of style.”

  “Property Brothers, Mom.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “We need to get on the road; let’s finish packing up the van.” Carl wrestled on his shirt.

  “Packing up Ernie,” I emphasized.

  “Ernie?”

  “That’s his name.”

  “How do I not get to name my own van?” He squinted at me.

  “We all voted; I thought you were there.” I kissed him on the nose and moved to claim the front seat.

  “Fine, we can call him Ernie after Ernie Banks,” Carl said. “Best ball player the Cubs have ever seen.”

  “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” I called from my perch. “Either way, his name is Ernie and Ernie is ready to get this show on the road.”

  “‘Home is behind, the world ahead, and there are many paths to tread,’” Reese said in singsong tones and threw an arm around her dad. Carl didn’t acknowledge her outwardly, but from the look in his eyes, I knew he was melting inside.

  “‘It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door,’” Benjamin said.

  “Especially for you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you tend to be a bit of a klutz.” Reese peeked at him over Carl’s body.

  “‘A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.’” Blake flung his bag over his shoulder and Reese smiled at him.

  “Way to keep up for once.”

  “For once? I set the pace here, baby.” He blew her a kiss and strode to where Ernie and I waited, blissfully unaware of all the trip would bring.

  13

  Bernice

  Carl insisted he drive the first stretch of our trip and good Lord, who agreed to that? Don’t get me wrong—he was a safe driver, always has been, always will be. But he was a little too safe if you ask me. Carl believed it was about the journey, not the destination. Great balls of fire. If the speed limit was sixty, Carl went a cool fifty-five and thought he was living it up, spreading his wings, letting himself go, and all that crap. I’m a lady; a lady with places to go. And this old man was holding me back.

  When Carl announced his Grand Adventure, his Trip of Carl—or a glorified “road trip” if you want to know the truth—I had to cancel a few appointments to get on board with his spontaneity. I swear that man will be the death of me. But, then again, I couldn’t help but think it was cute how seriously he was taking his second chance at life and love with me.

  “I’ll be the first to admit my idea of a good time includes you sitting next to me on the beach with cocktails.” I patted his arm as he drove.

  “That sounds nice, honey.”

  “Or a couple’s massage in one of those huts where you can see and hear the ocean.” Not a van stuffed full of three twenty-somethings. But no matter, sacrificing our dreams is what mothers do. It seemed we were all making up for lost time.

  “Oh, yes. I like the way you are thinking.” He grinned and tapped the brakes as he noticed a bird a mile away. I rubbed my temples and exhaled so they could all hear.

  Carl got under my skin like there was no tomorrow, but I loved him like no one else on the planet.

  We were sixteen when we met, all starry-eyed and wild. I’d moved up to “The Good Life” from the golden land of Mississippi, and I was immediately the most popular girl in the school. He was the star of the basketball team, and by my junior year, I was the head cheerleader. Carl was tall and thin, but not too skinny like those other boys. He had hair as black as onyx and dark green eyes, with teensy streaks of gold. We had three classes together that first year—English, Biology, and Advanced Math.

  He looked at me as I walked into class on my first day, and I marched right up to the second row and plopped down beside him. I was one of four girls in the latter two courses and without conversation or planning we sat beside each other in all our classes. We were like magnets, he and I, destined to be each other’s centering in the cold, lonely universe.

  He was sick with the flu the third week in October, when the trees were their most vibrant shades of yellow, red, and orange. I felt sick too, desperate to have his quiet self back by my side because he was always the best part of my day. I wore all my prettiest dresses to school that week, day after day, wanting to look my finest when he returned. Each day was a battle royale for my mother to let me wear my Sunday best, but it was worth it, knowing I’d be shining when I next saw him. I hoped he’d be excited to see me too, that he noticed my absence like I did his.

  When he didn’t come to school for the fourth day in a row, I showed up at his house in the afternoon, in my blue dress, with my hair curled within an inch of its life. I scrunched my toes inside the leather patent Sunday shoes I’d snuck out of my house from under my mother’s ever-watchful eyes. My stomach ached and my head too, but when his mother answered the door, she took the pile of jottings and books and sent me away without inviting me in to see him.

  I hoped she wouldn’t see the note I’d stuck between his math homework. I miss you. I’m blue.

  He never said a word about it, but after that, we took up walking home together. He rarely talked, but he looked pleased as I chattered and explained and told him my stories. He was too shy to ask me out, but I could see the desire in his eyes and so one day, when we were walking down 52nd Street, I grabbed his hand and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” I hummed into his perfect ear, undone.

  We were inseparable for the next two decades.

  We did homework in each other’s living rooms, applied for all the same colleges, danced under the stars almost every night, told secrets for hours on end until I knew him better than he knew himself.

  He was mine, completely.

  And I was his.

  I was too young to realize a love like ours was rare, beautiful, something to be cherished.

  I was too naive to understand how complicated life can become.

  I
sighed, I fanned my fan. Highway 29 North didn’t offer much in the way of scenery. I changed radio stations even if others were singing along. I was restless, a little bored if you want to know the truth.

  “Do you want me to drive, sweetie?” I fanned him too.

  “Oh, no, no, no. I will carry this burden.” He squeezed my hand and missed my grimace.

  “I need to pee.”

  “Bernice, we left the house ten minutes ago.” Carl looked wary.

  “Well, that’s the problem, I peed before we left.”

  “So you’re fine.”

  “Carl, I am far from fine. Once I open the floodgates in the morning, the floodgates stay open. I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Can you hold it?”

  “We shall see.” I caressed Rocky and rolled my eyes at the state of things in general.

  “I’ll stop in the next ten minutes then.” He sighed.

  “Make it five and make sure you stop where I can get one of those fancy coffees too.”

  “But—”

  “Carl, I need it.” I licked my hand and slapped it on a stray wisp of gray atop his head.

  “Okay, kids, who’s been reading the news?” His voice was ten shades of happy. “Capital of Romania?”

  Carl used to be that parent. The one who interrogated them on current events or geography over dinner. He gave the kids extra reading assignments on all their summer breaks and ignored their complaints because he said they’d thank him later. Of course, teaching our kids they should be independent thinkers led to Lord knows how much sass over the years, which was plumb annoying. But he liked to think they secretly loved his foray into academia, so as the sun climbed hazily behind us, he continued.

  “Tell me what you know about the Bay of Pigs.”