Remember Us
Page 15
“What year did the United States become a nation?”
“How do you feel about America’s current foreign policy?”
“Where do I start?” Blake pulled at his baseball cap. “How much time do I have?”
As the kids talked over themselves, I glanced in the visor mirror, and the clock wound backwards, whirling through dozens of moments like this, years of my kids’ laughter and love. I loved every second I heard my children’s voices, though they were adults now, far too old for this foolishness.
Carl must have been feeling it too, because he looked at me with tears in his eyes. “My Trip of Carl is everything I wanted. My kids have grown into adults.”
“Might as well call it your Trip of Sappy.” I rubbed his hand and looked out the window. That decade of lost years with my family haunted me daily of late, and I couldn’t think about it anymore today. I refocused on pleasant things, like Margarita Mondays.
Half an hour later, all traces of nostalgia were decidedly lost in the chaos of the flat tire which greeted us within minutes of our post-pee break reentry onto the highway.
Blasted heat.
Blasted high spirits.
Blasted flat tire.
Reese thought the flat was hysterical and took photos of the whole thing. She ignored me when I told her my hair was too flat, and I couldn’t be documented until a full twenty-four hours after I digested last night’s burger. The swelling from that meal was unbelievable. Even my hands puffed up.
“Reese, that camera of yours adds twenty pounds to my fabulous figure. Stop!”
Click.
“I love my curves and your Mama’s got the body of a goddess but your blasted camera makes me look like a pile of lard, a bowl of mashed potatoes—not my tubers, the lumpy kind.”
Click, click.
Blake, Benjamin, and Carl all worked on the flat. How many men does it take? One by one, they took their shirts off, claimed it was too hot under the hood. I’m sure Carl thought it was sexy and masculine over there, but I assure you, besides Blake’s abs, which were a happy surprise, it was not. And Benjamin, well, I’d clearly been too lenient with the cookies. Carl gave me a wink between his sweating and grunting. His hands had Lord knows how many layers of grease on them, and I looked away with a shudder.
Fifty percent of the tools they needed were missing. Fifty percent, people. Did they not think to check the spare tire situation before we left Omaha, all in a rush, in a tizzy? But they insisted they could make this happen.
I glanced at my watch.
Did I know how to change a flat tire in no time at all, without breaking a sweat?
Yes sirree I did. Did they think to ask me?
They did not.
These people were driving me crazy.
I looked at Reese. “You know the two of us could have had that tire changed in ten minutes flat.”
“Five.” Reese smiled at me before she fired another frame.
“Babies, I can’t be in this heat anymore. I’m calling a cab. Y’all can pick me up at the first bar you see in Modale, Iowa.” I waved my phone at them. They could catch up with me and my margarita when they were done. Story of my life.
“Bernice, it’s ten in the morning.” Reese tilted her head.
“You’re right. I might want a little snack too.”
When the taxi pulled up, I glanced back at her. “Well, are you coming or are you not?” Rocky barked his invitation from my arms.
“I am,” she said, and she did.
Reese
Modale, Iowa must be the smallest town in America.
“Bernice, didn’t you look to see if anything was even here?” I asked as she paid the driver in the middle of the quietest street in the world. “If I’d blinked, I would have missed this place.”
“Word is that the whole town is a single square mile,” the driver added.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Bernice raged at him, making Rocky bark. “I picked the closest town. I’m not from here, I don’t know—” But the driver zoomed off before she finished her rant. She shook her head at me. “No one has manners these days.” And off she marched.
I was taking a photo of a duck crossing the street when she yelled at me from in front of a yellow building. “Reese, this place looks like a restaurant. It’s called the Sour Mash and will open soon.” I’d just taken my last frame of film, so I sat with her on the hot sidewalk to wait.
“How’s Charlie?” she asked.
“Great.” I’d talked to Charlie at 2 a.m. before we left and explained about Dad and Ernie and everything. “So I should go with them,” I’d finished in a rush.
“Uh yeah, keep notes of all the craziness,” he said. “I’ll need to know everything that happens. And I do mean every detail.” It wasn’t until after I hung up I realized I’d forgotten to mention the insignificant fact of Blake’s presence, but it really didn’t matter. I told myself filling him in on everything else would take enough time.
Bernice looked at me. “What is it like—” But a honking Ernie drove up before she could finish.
“We might as well stay here and grab some lunch. They open at eleven,” Bernice called to the guys, unmoving from our sidewalk seat. “And I can tell you one more thing: we’re going to need to make this a short day. I’m ready for some pool time.”
After lunch, we managed to drive two hours before Bernice decreed we were done for the day. We pulled off at the next town that had a hotel with a pool and spent the rest of the day recovering from day one of our road trip. I made a couple of notes for Charlie in the notebook I’d brought along before going to bed early.
The next morning Bernice greeted me with a “Hey, baby,” and rubbed my back when I showed up for the hotel breakfast. I moved beyond her reach, and the men waved their coffee cups at me, all looking as if they’d been up for hours.
“I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
“Sugar,” she enunciated her syllables distinctly, “I have an announcement.” She stood with Rocky and adjusted her brightly-colored scarf.
“Oh boy.” I reached for Ben’s coffee.
“We are related to the Hamilton?” Ben looked between everyone expectantly.
“I won’t throw away my shot!” I crowed.
“Well, I am young, hungry, and pretty scrappy,” he said.
“You’re adopting a second Rocky to give to Ben?”
“Now that is an idea.” Bernice moved Rocky close to her face. “Do you want to play with a new brother or sister?” Her voice was high and fake.
There was a sharp kick on my shin as Ben asked, “What’s up, Mom?”
“We’ll have her give Charlie a dog,” I whispered to Ben out of the side of my mouth, and he gave me a thumbs up.
“Yes, honey, what’s on your mind?” Dad had acquired a rancher-style hat from one of our many gas-station-pee-stops the day before, which he’d perched atop his salt-and-pepper hair. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left Omaha.
“As I was saying, I have an announcement. I am taking us on a retreat. Last night after dinner I went through the rack in the hotel lobby and found a brochure for a family retreat center. I made some calls; the rest, as they say, is history.” She looked pleased. I ingested the news and waited for the punch line.
Nothing.
I looked at Ben, who was halfway out of his chair from laughter.
“It is called The Center for Family Relaxation and Inner Healing. There is a lake at the retreat center and some complimentary sessions with a guru, for inner family healing. We will go for three days and two nights.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not going.” I was already shaking my head. “Hashtag, boundaries.”
“You want hash browns, Reese?” Bernice frowned at me.
“Uh, sure, I’ll eat some hash browns. But this is me doing a sit-in.” I crossed my arms and smiled. “My peaceful protest to your family retreat.”
“Could it at least be a silent sit-in?” Ben lean
ed back in his chair, and I gave him the stink eye.
“Oh Reese, it’s healthy to get out and about and see the world.” Bernice waved her arms to demonstrate. “It’s two hours from here, in South Dakota, only two hours further north than we need to go, so it’s right on the way. It will be a big worldly experience for all of us.”
“Mom does have a point there.” Ben was almost crying from glee; Dad nodded as if this wasn’t the craziest thing ever proposed in the family.
“Guys, three months ago I was in Ireland with Blake. I live in Atlanta. I see the world.”
Bernice ignored me. “I was surprised they had such last-minute availability, but as they say—serendipity. So I booked two cabins. Reese and Benjamin: you are sharing. But then there is the problem of Blake.” She pursed her lips in his direction. “We’re heading there today, and he clearly can’t come on our family retreat weekend, but he can’t stay here.” She looked peeved, and I grimaced an apology at my friend.
“Bernice, don’t talk about him as if he’s not two feet away from you. And fine, I’ll stay back with him.” I grabbed an orange from the basket and peeled it with precision.
“Young lady, you will do no such thing.” She twirled a piece of hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “It’s not proper.”
“Oh Lord. What is happening to you? I’m going to grab some food, and we can discuss this like rational humans when I return.” As I drifted to the food bar, I heard Bernice’s giggle.
“Maybe I should take you men with me and leave Reese at a spa in town. Lord knows she and her high horse will make the two days all about her and her eye rolls.”
“I can hear you.” I turned and granted her a glare.
“Oh, sorry.” She winked at Blake.
“You need to rein her in.” I wagged my finger at my twin.
“I’ll see how I feel this afternoon. It’s never too late to drop her off on a doorstep along the way.”
“Bernice!” I slammed my plate of fruit onto the table, but she ignored me.
“Take a look at these.” Bernice patted Blake’s hand as she passed out brochures. He looked at me beseechingly, but I ignored him and moved the pamphlet where I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Conveniently located northwest of Aberdeen, South Dakota.” Ben waved the glossy paper.
“I’ve always imagined myself shining in a place like Aberdeen,” Blake drawled.
“Can we take a moment to note that, according to this 1970s-esque brochure, the retreat center says we are allowed to bring our journals, pens, and two changes of underclothes. Are we not worried they used the word ‘underclothes’?”
“Nope, I’m not worried at all.” Ben’s face was blank. “Besides, we can also bring organic soap, glitter, and cash.”
“Glitter is on the list?”
“Arts and crafts.”
“Great! So we can explore the childhood we lost. I have a stash of popsicle sticks begging to be used.”
“Ahem, we are not allowed to bring anything else, which includes cell phones, computers, e-readers, chargers, extra clothes, extra food, non-organic soaps, aluminum foil, batteries, video cameras. Reese, why aren’t you taking notes?”
I pinched his thigh under the table.
The Do Not Bring list filled two entire sections of the leaflet. The retreat was obviously going to kill us. That might explain Bernice’s excitement over the idea.
“We all need our rest and relaxation. Self-care, people. Reese, if you want, I will pay for a mani and pedi for you on the way this morning—not the gel kind of course, those are expensive. But the plain, straightforward kind. A woman needs to be a woman and having a pedicure is part of it.”
“No thanks. To all of it.” I handed her the brochure.
“You are all going and no complaints. It is the last request of a formerly dying man,” Dad said.
“You know you can only use that card so many times, right?” I eyed Dad. “Besides, we need to get Blake to Chicago. We promised.”
“Right, well, I can book a room in a town outside your retreat center and work from a coffee shop.” Blake smiled, a little too good-naturedly. “Really, I can write here as easily as I can write in Chicago. It makes no difference to me.”
“I’m sorry about this inconvenience.” Bernice offered him a limp shrug. “But you can see this is so important for our family, Blake. Thank you so much for understanding and being willing to change your plans. You all need to be ready to go in an hour.” She jumped up from the table and grabbed Dad’s hand, pulling him out of the room before I could protest further.
Ben tipped back on his chair with a shake of his head. “Well, Mom has done her share of wacky things throughout the years, but even she outdid herself this time.”
“Where were you with this astute assessment two minutes ago, Dr. Howser?”
“Reese, who are you kidding? Saying ‘no’ to Mom is like trying to negotiate with Che Guevara. It’s simply a dead end.”
“Uh, it’s like fighting Stalin and Mussolini’s love child.”
“It’s like—” Ben’s dark eyes gleamed as he leaned toward us.
“It’s like the First Battle of Athenry.” Blake tapped the table with each word. We stared back at him.
Right.
“Yes, maybe. There has been some recent controversy about the details of said battle, didn’t you hear? It’s scandalous.” Ben nudged him.
“Oh right. Americans only study American history. I forgot.” Blake pressed his lips and reached for his coffee.
“Speaking of being American, we’re rather steamrolling you into this little change of plans. Can you handle the heat?” Ben made a face of mock terror.
“Well, I suppose I could take the bus over to Chicago from here, though my uncle’s house is empty and waiting for me, so it doesn’t really matter when I arrive.” Blake looked at me with a question in his eyes.
“Ben, Blake, do you hear yourselves? Earth to my martians. We can’t go on this retreat. We’re setting ourselves up for failure.”
“Oh, I’m going. You’re going. We’re all going. Dad said!”
Despite the detailed packing instructions, Bernice rolled three suitcases into the “take” pile for our 10 a.m. departure.
“You have a lot of journals.” I waved toward her flashing trio on wheels from my station by Ernie’s door.
“Actually, it’s glitter I collect.”
I made eye contact with Ben as he shoved a beer from the cooler into his pants.
“I’m leaving my phone.” He made a show of handing it to Blake.
“Let me know if you want to sneak away in the night,” Blake whispered in my ear when we dropped him off in Aberdeen, leaving a sea of butterflies in his wake. But the feelings were soon eclipsed by our arrival at The Center for Family Relaxation and Inner Healing. Bernice hopped out of Ernie and wheeled her largest suitcase up to where a man dressed in a white robe waited on the porch outside the main cabin.
“Carl, grab my other two bags, dear,” she called over her shoulder.
“Someone’s excited,” Ben said. We watched as she ignored the man’s outstretched hand and went in for a hug. When he moved to extricate himself, she didn’t let go. He said something we couldn’t hear.
“Now that wasn’t very nice,” Bernice spoke loudly and held the robed man at arm’s length. Rocky ran to where they faced off and barked at their feet.
“Like I said, Fidel Castro’s double. I have twenty bucks on the lady in red.” I calmly popped a piece of gum into my mouth. Ben and I hung back with Ernie as Dad wheeled over her two other suitcases.
“Actually, you said no such thing, you said—” but before Ben could get warmed up, the voices on the porch escalated.
“Ma’am, you need to remove your nail polish, leave at least two of your fifty-pound suitcases in the vehicle and ‘robe up’ or remove yourself from the premises.”
“I will do no such thing, young man!”
I snapped a couple of photos
and stuffed the camera behind my back before they noticed.
“I wonder how one becomes a guru,” Ben said.
“Is he the guru?”
“Reese, he’s wearing a white robe.”
“Touché, brother. Okay, well, in this case becoming a guru was easy.” Bernice had called on our drive over with a “few” last-minute questions, and I’d listened in on the conversation. “Apparently, he is a self-proclaimed guru.” I was proud of myself for holding in an eye roll. “Bernice said she was happy to champion his dreams.”
“Wait, you can appoint yourself a guru?”
“Well,” I waved at the scene before us, “no one is stopping him. And apparently some people even pay him money for his so-called guidance.”
Bernice proceeded to empty her suitcase across the front lawn as the guru looked on. One after another, she tossed her items into the air.
“I think I will need my eyeballs bleached,” Ben said as she threw a tiny green nighty high.
“And to think I almost didn’t come.” I sat cross-legged on the dirt. Bernice marched in circles in front of the guru, pumping her hands into the air. Dad made a move toward her, and I thought she might punch him. There was really no telling how this weekend would play out.
Dad eventually corralled Mom into a compromise, and an hour later we all stood in front of the white-robed man. He stroked his beard as we contemplated each other. He was tall with red hair that he’d tied into a man bun, looked as if he was in his mid-thirties and ate tofu three times a day.
“Alright, we shall begin with introductions,” he murmured and stuck out his hand to Ben. “Good day, sir, what are you called?”
Ben leaned and kissed his hand. “I’m Sir Alexander Hamilton: the first of his name, ruler of Knoxville and the southern kingdoms. And you are?”
“I am one with the earth, with your family. I am your guru.” He stuck out his hand to Dad. “What is your name, good sir?”
“Carl,” Dad boomed. “It’s nice to meet you…?”
“Carl.” The ginger granted him a small smile.
“Yes, he said his name is Carl, and mine is Bernice.” Bernice leaned close to his face and enunciated slowly. “What’s your name?”