Much Ado About Mother (22 page)

She felt like an idiot. A jealous idiot. She would have continued to berate herself, but she was so relieved that her mother hadn't stolen her fantasy man that all she could do was smile.

“But what about Rio's kids here?” Suzanna asked. “The last thing they need is to be dumped by the two of you.”

“We've already worked that out.” Suzanna noticed how comfortably her mother said “we.” It sounded good.

“How?” Suzanna asked.

“These kids are all over eighteen. If they want to keep it going, they can. And those twins, Miles and Winnie? They are really motivated to make a success of it. Rio is helping them get set up at their high school.”

“Eighteen is pretty young,” Suzanna said.

“It is young. But a few months ago, these kids had no direction, nothing they cared about, and nothing to occupy their time. Don't you see? Rio started this impossible project with nobody interested and no money to see it through. Now he'll be reaching kids on two coasts. Just following his example will help these kids.”

“That sounds like a gamble.”

“Life's a gamble,” said Virginia.

By the following morning, when Suzanna came into the kitchen to see her mother feeding Lizzy breakfast, she realized how much she wanted her mother to stay. But she knew it wasn't fair to place that burden on her, so she didn't say anything except, “I'll miss you, Mom.”

Virginia looked up from the table, where she sat with Lizzy. She seemed to be reading Suzanna's mind.

“Don't tell your sister just yet,” Virginia said.

“OK. But why?”

“Things are . . . more complicated with Erinn. I need to be the one to tell her. I'll figure it out.”

Suzanna shared the news with her husband. To her surprise he seemed as deflated as she was to hear it.

“We have to let her go, Beet,” Eric said. “In her time, she let Erinn go and then she let you go. It'll be practice for when it's Lizzy's turn.”

Suzanna felt like crying every time she looked at her mother over the next couple of days. But Virginia seemed to be on top of the world. She was energized and full of purpose as more and more teenagers seemed to take part in dancing lessons. Suzanna watched from the front of the tea shop, but suddenly a crowd of kids closed around Rio and her mother. Suzanna moved closer. Was her mother safe in that crowd? When Suzanna got close enough to see what was going on she gasped. Not only Rio but her mother and several teenagers were doing the zombie choreography to Michael Jackson's
Thriller
! Even from a distance, she could see a boy with a tattoo sleeve, Miles, whom Virginia had mentioned. She thought she recognized the goth girl . . . what was her name? Suzanna couldn't remember, but she did know that she was Miles's sister . . . twin sister. She really needed to pay more attention to her mother's stories. The girl was transformed from a gloomy, stooped-shouldered teenager to a vibrant young woman, laughing along with the rest of the group. They looked almost professional! The entire group seemed to move from step to step with total ease. How long could they have been working on that? Was
Thriller
now in the country's collective DNA?

Suzanna jumped as a hand clasped on to her shoulder. She turned and saw Eric standing beside her.

“Oh! You scared me,” Suzanna said. “I thought you were a zombie.”

“Not yet,” Eric said, smiling at the pack of crazy-quilt dancers hopping and lurching around the skateboard area.

“What?” Suzanna asked.

“These kids have given me a brilliant idea,” Eric said.

“About being a zombie or a dancer?”

“You'll be the first to know, Beet.”

The next few weeks flew by. Mr. Clancy's Courtyard gleamed in the Southern California sunshine. The walkway was smooth and even. The tree sculpture, to everyone's knowledge, was finished; it stood in the courtyard covered by a muslin drape. Eric had worked relentlessly on his brilliant idea and soon it would be time to unleash it on Venice Beach.

CHAPTER 25

VIRGINIA

V
irginia realized with a jolt that she had run farther than she'd ever run before. Every morning she took Piquant and Lizzy out in the Baby Jogger and ran north toward Santa Monica. For the first few weeks she had clocked about a mile, which didn't even take her out of the Venice city limits. But now, she ran effortlessly past the Santa Monica Pier, past Perry's Pizza, where she needed to be on her guard as tourists took to the bike path on rental bikes and skates, on past the California Incline and the Annenberg Beach House.

She looked up at the cliff that towered over the Pacific Coast Highway. Erinn's house was just at the top of the cliff. She was literally minutes from her eldest daughter, but she hesitated. Should she call and let Erinn know she was in the neighborhood? Or would Erinn find that intrusive? Virginia loved her eldest daughter fiercely, but their relationship was never easy. Virginia had been putting off telling Erinn about the move east. She wasn't sure why. On the one hand, she knew Suzanna would be much more upset about her leaving and yet it had been simpler to tell her. Virginia and Suzanna had always had an easier relationship than she and Erinn.

She unbuckled Piquant and Lizzy from the Baby Jogger and the three of them spent a few minutes on the sand. Virginia felt emotions welling up inside her; when she went back to New York she would miss this precious child. As she watched Piquant and Lizzy playing, she knew her dog would miss Lizzy, too.

Virginia dug her phone out of her back pocket. She resolved to tell Erinn she was moving. She would do it, and she would do it now! Unless Erinn didn't answer the phone.

Erinn answered the phone before Virginia could change her mind.

“Hello, dear,” Virginia said. “Lizzy and I are in your neck of the woods.”

“Oh?” Erinn said, in a tone Virginia could not decipher.

“Yes, we're on the jogging path just below you. If you were in the park, you could look over and see us.”

“But I'm not in the park.” Virginia knew that Erinn was not being rude, just being . . . Erinn. When she was little, Martin used to call her Miss Spock. She was so serious, so literal minded, and actually had little pointed ears.

“I thought you might want to go out to breakfast,” Virginia said.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Spontaneity was not one of Erinn's strong suits.

“All right. That would be nice. Shall I meet you at Back on the Beachwalk in ten minutes?”

Back on the Beachwalk had become one of Virginia's favorite restaurants since she'd come west. It was on the northern, more serene side of the bay area. She loved the hubbub of Venice, but when she wanted time to think, Back on the Beachwalk was the place she went to unwind. The restaurant had indoor and outdoor seating, the outdoor part being right on the sand. Virginia could also always bring Piquant, which was another plus.

She knew she'd mentioned the place to Erinn a few times and she was touched that her daughter remembered.

Once at the restaurant, Virginia settled Lizzy at the table and Piquant under it. She had just ordered coffee and two bagels when Erinn walked up to them. Lizzy clapped, and Erinn bent for a kiss. Virginia smiled. Erinn had never seemed particularly interested in children before, and Virginia was happy to see Erinn open herself up to Lizzy. Virginia knew better than to make this particular observation—Erinn could get prickly at the most innocent remark. Virginia passed Erinn a bagel.

“How is life at your place?” Virginia asked.

“It's a madhouse,” Erinn said, sitting down and ordering coffee. “Dymphna and Blu, not to mention my cat, seem to have bonded over love of the rabbits.”

Virginia laughed. “It could be worse,” she said.

“I suppose. But I have to tell you, Mother, I just want my house back. Living in the guest room in my own house is driving me crazy.”

“ ‘No one can drive us crazy unless we hand them the keys.' ”

“Douglas Horton. You got that quote from me.”

“No, dear. Actually, I got that quote from Douglas Horton.”

Virginia took a deep breath and a sip of coffee.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Virginia said.

“I guess I'm not the only one being driven crazy by her living arrangements,” Erinn said with a slight smile.

“What do you mean?” Virginia asked, breaking off a piece of bagel for Lizzy.

“It can't be easy living with Eric and Suzanna. I mean, it's pretty tight quarters over there.”

“Actually,” Virginia said, trying not to sound defensive, “we've done pretty well. I think Suzanna has been happy to have me there. Has she said anything to you to the contrary?”

“No, Mother, she hasn't. I just assumed you must be getting on each other's nerves by now.”

“We're doing fine.”

“Of course you are. What could I have been thinking?”

Virginia knew she was on dangerous ground. Erinn was very thin-skinned when it came to Virginia's effortless relationship with Suzanna.

“I'm sorry, Mother, I'm just in a bad mood.”

“Is everything all right with Christopher?”

“Yes,” Erinn said, sounding a little surprised. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“No reason, dear.”

“I just feel as if I'm out of step. Dymphna and Blu are getting along great—I mean, who could possibly get along with Blu?—and you and Suzanna apparently are sailing along without a ripple,” Erinn said, looking like she had when she was ten years old and wondering why none of the other children liked her. “I just don't understand why I have so much trouble . . .
socializing
.”

“Erinn, you say ‘socializing' like it's a thing to wrestle to the ground. But it should come naturally. If you'd just relax a little. . . .”

“You've been saying that since I was five. I guess Suzanna got all the relaxing genes.”

“Why are you so hard on your sister?”

“Probably because you always defend my sister.”

“Are we really going to have this discussion
again?
”

“Oh, I'm sorry if I'm boring you.”

Virginia could see Erinn was on the verge of tears. This was a very old wound. What could Virginia possibly say to comfort her eldest daughter? The truth of the matter was that life with Suzanna was easier than it was with Erinn. It always was and it always would be. It didn't mean that she loved one of her girls more than the other, but Erinn almost challenged you to love her.

“Dear,” Virginia said carefully, “you and Suzanna are two very different people. You're like a glass of champagne and your sister is like a glass of warm milk. Both are fantastic, but you can't compare the two.”

Virginia studied her daughter as Erinn looked out at the waves. Had this helped? Had she made things worse? Why wasn't there a road map for talking to your children—no matter what their age? Virginia put her hand on Erinn's arm and gave a small squeeze. She saw a tear glistening on her daughter's cheek. Every fiber in her body wanted to reach out and hug Erinn, but she knew that would make things worse.

If it had been Suzanna . . .
Virginia thought, but put the brakes on that immediately. Erinn stood up.

“I just want to be a glass of warm milk sometimes, Mother,” Erinn said. “And I don't know how.”

Lizzy squealed as a seagull landed nearby. Virginia turned to coo at the toddler and when she looked back, Erinn was walking away.

She watched helplessly as Erinn's back got smaller and smaller. Her heart ached for her girl—and she still hadn't told her she was leaving.