A Slight Change of Plan (21 page)

She folded her hands on her lap and looked serious. “I don’t think that Tom is quite right for you. I know I don’t know him well, but observing you together, I sense a lack of spark.”

“Oh, so when it comes to Tom, you’re going to get all analytical on me?”

Sam shuffled into the living room, coffee mug in hand. “Are we talking about Tom? He’s a real douche bag. Gotta get dressed. Later, Mom.” And he shuffled out again.

Alisa looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Just remember how brilliant he is,” she said, and followed him upstairs.

Jeff called and was completely annoying, telling me what a great guy Jake was, how funny and sophisticated, not to mention rich.

“You could forget about trying to find a job, Mom, and hang out all day in the Village with the rest of us.”

“It’s not that simple, Jeff.”

“Sure it is. And if you moved into his place, you could see your grandbaby every single day.”

That kid did not play fair.

I had lunch with Marie. She flagged me down when I was walking Boone, and insisted I come right on in. Her condo was one level, with a beautiful baby grand piano in the living room, and a tiny patio out back where we had BLTs on her homemade bread with her homegrown tomatoes that she started way back in March in her windowsill. She also had crisp white wine and fresh baked biscotti for dessert. What a great neighbor.

Tom and I had been texting back and forth, and had agreed to meet at six at the Dublin Pub. It was a little odd that he didn’t offer to pick me up, but that was fine with me. We managed a table outside, on the side terrace, and ordered drinks. I was telling him about the Monet exhibit, because I really didn’t want to talk too much about last night’s dinner, but when our drinks came, he knocked back his scotch in one gulp and took my hand.

“Kate, can I talk for a minute?”

Oh, no. He looked so serious. What was I going to do if he said something about our relationship? What if he wanted to take it to “the next level”? I liked this man, and did not want to do anything to hurt his feelings, but what was I going to say?

I stared at my wine, wishing I’d ordered a martini. “Sure, Tom. Go ahead.”

“I don’t think this is working out very well.”

“What?”

“You and I. I don’t think it’s going as well as I’d like.”

What?

“Tom, we’ve known each other less than two months. What isn’t going well for you?”

“You seem to have a lot of other, well, distractions in your life. You’re always off somewhere, with your kids or friends. I don’t feel that I’m getting as much, well, private time as I’d like.”

“Private time?”

“Yes.”

“Monday night, when I suggested pizza and TV, you were the one who was busy.”

“Yes, well, that was work.”

“Oh. So if I had a job, it would be different?”

He threw up his hands. “If you had a job, it would probably be impossible.”

“Tom, I would think that, at our age, we would be more appreciative of each other’s lives and commitments, and would not be so, well, high school about things like this.”

He drew back. “This isn’t ‘high school’ at all. If you’re not willing to work on building our relationship, I don’t see where we have much of a future.”

Whoa. He was breaking up with me.

“You’re a very lovely woman, Kate, but for some reason, we can’t get on the same page when it comes to how much time we spend together. That’s a real issue for me. So I think we should pull away now, before one of us gets too attached.”

I stared at him. “Tom, why did we never have this conversation before?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that maybe, if I had known this was a—what did you call it? Real issue? If I had known this was a real issue for you, we could have probably resolved it.”

He shook his head sadly. “Honestly, Kate, if you don’t know how to read the signs, I’m afraid this dating thing is not going to end well for you.”

“Wow. How passive-aggressive of you.” I drained my wineglass.

“Now, Kate, that’s really not very fair, is it?”

“Fair? How old are you, and you still talk about fair? And now that I think about it, you made a habit of suggesting we get together when you knew I’d already had something going on. The nights I was sitting home with my thumb up my butt, you couldn’t be bothered, but I tell you I’ve got plans, and suddenly you’ve got three different places we need to go. When I tell you I’m spending the night watching TV, you don’t call, text, or anything. But if I’m out, there’s this constant stream of vitally important information you’ve just got to share with me immediately.

“And another thing. Saturday night, I introduced you to my friends. My family. You’ve never once introduced me to any of your friends or family. In fact, you haven’t even mentioned that you have any friends or family. What the hell is that all about?”

“Kate, I think I should go now.”

“Tom, I think you should have gone four weeks ago.”

He shook his head sadly and left.

Tom had just broken up with me.

I signaled for the waiter and ordered a martini, then I texted Laura.

Tom just dumped me. At Dublin Pub and can’t drive home.

She immediately texted me back.

SO SORRY!! U must b so upset 2 not drive. B there ASAP.

Not upset. So angry I had a martini. Hurry.

I was almost done with my bacon cheeseburger when she arrived—medium, extra bacon, with fries and onion rings.

She sat across from me, where Tom had so recently sat as he gave me the heave-ho, and shook her head, her crutches leaning against the table.

“Where’s Bobby?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I should have never texted you. I know you can’t drive by yourself.”

She waved her hand in the air. “The boys are with us. They’re getting ice cream. Family night out.” She shook her head. “The cheeseburger I get. But what is that? Vodka?”

“I know. This is the second time in as many weeks I’ve had to drink out of my comfort zone.”

“What happened? Tell me quick, because I know that drink is going to make you completely stupid in the next five minutes.”

I swallowed. “He had the nerve to tell me I wasn’t spending enough ‘private time’ with him. What is that? ‘Private time’? Were we supposed to be reading aloud to each other? Having more sex? Did he want me to sit at his feet and fondle his toes? What the hell is wrong with men?”

Laura listened patiently. “Kate, I’m very sorry that things didn’t work out with Tom. I know you were hoping that the two of you could find your way to a bit of happiness, but obviously the man was a douche bag. You’re lucky to be rid of him.”

“That’s what Sam said,” I mumbled.

“What did Sam say?”

“That Tom was a douche bag.”

“I didn’t know they had met.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t planned. They met at the condo. Over morning coffee.”

“Oh, God, and I missed it.” She took my hand. “I am sorry.”

I pushed away my plate. It was pretty well picked over. “Me too. He was a nice man, really. Just not for me.”

“Excellent attitude. Maybe you won’t get stupid after all.”

“No, it’s too late. Jake may be back in my life.”

I told her the whole story—the drink at the Pierre, the pub, our meet-up last night. She didn’t say anything, just sat as I babbled like a schoolgirl crushing on a football star.

“Well,” she said at last.

“I know.”

“It looks like I’ve been wrong all these years. It’s not the drink that makes you stupid after all. It’s just a recurring thing, like a virus.”

“Why is Jake being back with me stupid? No, I mean it. I really need a good argument right now.”

“Look, you know I want the two of you to live happily ever after. But I’m afraid if you pick up where you left off, he’s the man who betrayed your trust, and you’re the woman who spent years fantasizing about getting back with him.”

“Not years,” I muttered. “Well, maybe, but not a lot of years.”

“So it seems like this has to become more about the present. And the future. Are you willing to try to build something from scratch?”

“If I thought we could end up in the same place, yes.”

“The same place? You mean two sex-crazed college kids planning the next fifty years of their life? You’re living in the past again.” She grabbed both of my hands and shook them. “Look at me,” she ordered. I lifted my eyes from my empty plate.

“What do you want, Kate? From a relationship with Jake?”

I sat and thought for a moment. “I want to be with somebody who knows me, so I don’t have to work so damn hard to live my life. Tom was a constant effort for me, and we still never got off the ground. Sure, I can try another man, and maybe after a few months things will work out. Or not, and I’ll have to start again. I’m not sure I have the energy for all that. But Jake, he already knows me. Yes, I know, thirty years is a long time, and I know we’ve both changed, but the truth is, the spark is still there. And I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about the connection we used to have, where we got each other’s jokes and wanted the same things in life. Last night, I’d look over at him and know exactly what he was thinking. We were in our own secret, special club. I can’t be wrong to want that again.” I took a deep breath. “By the way, he broke up with the girlfriend.”

“Then go for it.”

“This is not just the vodka talking.”

“I know. I can tell. If you think you’ve got a chance, Kate, you need to try, or you’ll spend the next thirty years kicking yourself in the ass.” She sighed. “I want you to try. And I’m really rooting for the two of you to make it work.”

“So I’ll go for it.”

“You should. But maybe instead of picking up where you left off, you might try going back to square one. Maybe you could be two people who met on a website for the very first time and have to start from scratch.”

“That might be a good idea.”

“It is. I may be the little sister, but sometimes I get things right.”

I didn’t have a lot of time to think about Jake, because the next morning Laura called to tell me that our mother had fallen, was in the hospital, and had been there for the past five days.

“Five days? Why did it take so long for someone to call you?”

She had been crying. “Because when the ambulance picked her up, they took her to a smaller hospital, one she’s never been to before, instead of the big county ER where they have all her records. She had hit her head and was so out of it, she couldn’t give them my phone number. It’s taken her this long to realize where she’s been and what’s happened to her.”

My heart dropped into my bowels and I felt sick. “Out of it?”

“Yes. I haven’t even spoken to her yet. I just got off the phone with the social worker. They will not let her go home. They don’t think she’s capable of living alone any longer.”

“I’ll be right over.”

I drove the twenty minutes in a daze. If Mom couldn’t live alone any longer, then we’d have to find her a nursing home up here. Her being half a day’s drive away wasn’t going to work anymore.

I ran through the front door. Laura was in her living room, her broken leg propped up on an ottoman, on the phone.

“Mom, yes, I know,” she was saying.

I could barely hear my mother’s voice on the other end of the line; I could just get a slight, rasping sound.

“Yes, Mom. But that’s not what the doctor said, is it?”

Laura’s eyes were welled up with tears, and she kept taking long, deep breaths.

“But, Mom, you can’t do that anymore. They won’t let you.”

Laura shook her head at me, rolled her eyes, and made her “She’s killing me” face, something she hadn’t done since we were kids. I almost laughed.

“Mom, Kate is here now. Do you want to talk to her?”

Obviously, no.

“But, Mom, I told you. My leg is broken. I can’t drive down.”

Laura tightened her grip on the phone as she listened. “Mom, I have to hang up now. Kate and I have to figure this out. I’ll call you tonight.” And without hearing Mom’s answer, she hung up.

“What the hell are we going to do?” she asked.

“We need to find her a place up here.”

“True, but she has no money left, so that may be a little hard.”

I was shocked. “What do you mean, no money left?” Back when I knew what was going on in my mother’s life, there had been my father’s insurance money and a veteran’s benefit that had been put together into a very tidy nest egg for Mom. “Where did it go?”

“Down the toilet with the rest of the economy. She had it all in stocks and things. She lost it all in ’08 along with everybody else.”

“Is her house worth anything?”

Laura wiped her nose with the hem of her T-shirt. “Maybe. If we could sell it. Her little development down there just opened a new section, and the new units are going for over two hundred thousand, but her place is almost twenty years old and, let me tell you, all original décor. Who’d buy it?”

I got up, went to the bathroom, brought back a box of tissues, and watched silently as Laura blew her nose and cleared her throat a few times.

“Where’s Bobby?”

“Golfing. He doesn’t want her here. We don’t have the room.”

“Of course you don’t. And you can’t very well take care of her; you’re on crutches. I’ll go down and get her. She’ll stay with me till we figure something else out.”

Laura made a noise. “With you?”

I took a deep breath. “My basement is perfect. She won’t have any steps. There’s a big bathroom, and it’s a warm, sunny space. I’ll get a double bed down there, and a dresser, maybe set up a small fridge and microwave. Sam and Alisa can help me, I’m sure. She’ll have a whole floor to herself. I’ll send down food on Boone’s back. We’ll never have to see each other. It will be perfect.”

“You’re serious?”

“Laura, what else are we going to do? We’ve avoided thinking about this for years, but we can’t pretend anymore. Mom has to be up here, and the most logical place is with me. So. I’ll do a little shopping today, get my son to move some boxes, and get this ball rolling. When are they releasing her?”

“Monday. But they want her to spend at least three or four days in rehab, so she can get her strength back. There was no concussion, nothing physically wrong with her, except that she’s old and needs somebody to look after her.” Laura sighed. “This is going to be very interesting.”