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“What on earth do you have there?” It was the strangest looking drink I’d ever seen, and I hoped it wasn’t anything that would cause a family argument.

“Boba,” they said in tandem, giving me that universal look that said I was hopelessly behind the times.

“Go on. Explain more. I have no idea what boba is, or are,” I admitted, sealing my fate as a clueless parent.

“It’s kind of like an ice-blended coffee, only not,” Ben started. I felt like this was going to be a long, confusing explanation.

“Why don’t you give her a sip of yours,” Kylie suggested. “It’s easier to explain once you’ve tasted it.”

I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to, but Ben was already proffering his cup. It had the weight and feel of an iced coffee, but there was something knocking against the side of the cup.

“Some places call it bubble tea,” the girl said while I looked at the cup. My look must have been tentative because she kept on talking. “Ben’s is green tea and mine is mango. They’re really good.” She had that tone I could remember trying with a toddler facing a spoonful of cauliflower.

I was in too deep to pull back now, so I took a sip on the huge straw. The sweet, icy liquid had a milky green tea flavor, but what really threw me was the marble-sized ball of something that bounced in my mouth with the liquid. I must have really looked surprised, because Ben laughed softly.

“You found one of the tapioca pearls. That’s the stuff on the bottom, the black balls. I think they’re fun.”

“Hmm.” I rolled the tapioca thing around, trying to figure out how I’d describe the texture. It was somewhere between rubber and a ripe berry, and truly a unique experience. I thanked Ben, handed back his drink, and promised myself that this would be a unique experience for sure, because one taste of boba was enough for me.

D
ot laughed the next morning while I described boba tea to her. “You’re braver than I am. Candace and some of her friends enjoy that stuff, too, but I’m not trying it. My mother used to say tapioca looked like fish eyes, and that big black stuff looks even more like fish eyes than the little pearls you make pudding out of. No, thank you.”

I admitted to her that it was probably a one-time experience for me. “I don’t have enough desire for Ben to think I’m hip and trendy to try it again. It gave me the oddest combination of brain freeze and weird mouth feel that I’ve ever had. Maybe I did it just to impress his girlfriend.”

“Oh? He brought home a girl?”

“Yes, one from school. She plays in the praise band at church, too. I thought he’d been awfully happy to go to services with me lately.”

“I wouldn’t recognize her from that. Buck says all praise songs sound alike to him, so I humor him and go to the traditional service with him.”

I would beg to differ with him on that point, but it’s the same thing my mom says. Maybe it just takes an open mind and younger ears to enjoy a praise band. There were always some people more my mom’s age or Dot’s at the contemporary service, but they weren’t the majority.

“Is she a freshman like Ben?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk that long. Once I’d been introduced Ben decided it was time to take Cai Li home before I asked her too many questions. I don’t know why he was so anxious to go. We’d only gotten through the basics, like whether her parents had grown up here or abroad and how many brothers and sisters she had.”

I couldn’t help grinning while I said all of that. For Ben it was probably way too much information for me to know how Cai Li spelled her name, that her parents came from Vietnam in the early 70s and that she had what she described as “two bratty little brothers” at home. And here I had just been getting started. She and I had been warming up to each other, but Ben got more antsy with each question and answer, until he finally almost pulled her out the door, insisting that he needed to get her home early for a change. I had to think he didn’t want his brand-new girlfriend and his mother bonding just yet.

I could understand his argument if I really thought about it from his young, male point of view. But thanks to events he didn’t even know much about, this was the only way I was ever going to experience anything close to having a daughter. My face must have shown some of what I was thinking, because Dot put a hand on my arm.

“Okay, where are you inside there? Do you want company?”

“I don’t know. Just thinking about things that happened a long time ago. Sometimes I get a little jealous of all of you with daughters.”

Dot was quiet for a while, looking at me with a gentle, knowing look. “You had one once, didn’t you?” Dot asked softly.

“Yes, I did.” I hadn’t told anybody about this in years. “For six days. She was born prematurely, eighteen months after Ben. I was still very young, just past twenty-one, and when Emily died it was the beginning of the end for my marriage.”

“Losing a child is one of those events that either strengthens a couple tremendously or pulls them apart.” I felt thankful for them that Dot and Buck’s troubles apparently strengthened their relationship.

“Just losing her wasn’t the thing that pulled us apart. It was the way that Hal and his mother took over while I spent all my time in the neonatal intensive care unit with our daughter that week. My parents were taking care of Ben, so I could be there. I couldn’t do much for her, couldn’t even hold her most of the time. She was so tiny and so frail. I wanted to name her Joanna Louise for two of our grandmothers.”

“But you just called her Emily, so I have to assume that didn’t happen.”

I was crying now, but it felt good, and I could talk through the tears. “Right. After four days straight the nurses insisted that I go home, shower and sleep in my own bed. When I came back into the nursery the next morning, instead of the incubator saying “baby girl Harris” like it had before, it said Emily Jo Harris. I felt stunned.

“Hal’s mother insisted that the baby had to be named and baptized before she died, and she was adamant that it happen
right then.
Hal didn’t argue with her and somehow figured that I wouldn’t, either. By the time I got back everything was done.”

“Did the name mean something to Hal’s mother?” Why did Dot always have to be so perceptive? Even my mother hadn’t asked that question right away.

“Hal had an older sister who only lived two weeks. Her name was Emily. I was totally horrified that they would name our daughter, who was fighting so hard to live, for a little girl who had died. When Emily got a staph infection the next night, I never left her side again, but the damage had already been done to our marriage.”

Dot handed me a tissue from somewhere and kept patting my arm. “You know, some day you ought to talk about this with the rest of the Christian Friends. They’re very good listeners.”

“I know. And most of the time I’m okay with this now. But thinking about Ben’s girlfriend, and how I just
had
to talk to her last night made me wonder if I was trying to replace Emily just a little.”

“Maybe so. I know I tend to latch on to bright, independent young women to give me a little bit of what I know I won’t quite have with Candace, but I don’t feel guilty about it anymore. I have a wonderful relationship with my daughter, and I figure God sends me other people, like you, Gracie Lee, to give me the things I miss.”

I felt touched to think that Dot had adopted me even a little. Family is a funny concept sometimes. It often has as much to do with who we love and how we relate to people as it does with blood. The wise old pastor at Granny Jo’s church back in Cape Girardeau used to say that folks said blood is thicker than water, but he believed that the baptismal water that made us all part of the family of God was thicker than any blood. “Thanks, Dot. I can always use another mom.” Hugging her there in her kitchen made me wonder where Matt and Lucy’s broader family came from, and how we needed to fit into that family to keep Matt from being held and even perhaps tried for a murder he didn’t commit.

I’d barely gotten home from Dot’s when she called me on the phone with unbelievable news. “Ed Leopold and at least one of his crew members want to come over and look at the bathroom.” I could hardly believe our good fortune. Given that it was less than a week until Christmas, I’d figured that nothing else would happen until the New Year started, or perhaps even sometime around Groundhog Day. But by ten Mr. Leopold and his son Bob stood in the bathroom measuring, checking pipe joints and writing down whole bunches of things that didn’t really make sense to me, but certainly did to them.

They turned down my offer of coffee and kept working in the bathroom for a while. Either Ben was so sound asleep that they weren’t bothering him or he’d prudently decided not to put in an appearance in his pajamas. I retreated to the living room to glance at the newspaper and have a cup of the coffee I’d made. In twenty minutes or so, the Leopolds came out of the bathroom. Surprisingly enough they both had smiles on their faces.

“This isn’t near as bad as I thought it would be,” Ed told me, looking down at his legal pad full of notes. “Once I talk to Mrs. Morgan again and figure out just what she’s paid on the missing fixtures, and who got the money, we can be good to go. I figure Wednesday or Thursday we could put in the second commode and do most of the finishing in that section. The plumbing and the bathtub will take a little longer, what with the tile that needs to go in, but definitely it’ll be done before New Year’s Eve.”

“Wow. I know Dot will agree with me when I say that’s a dandy present.” I couldn’t help asking what was on my mind. “How did we get so lucky, anyway? I figured that you all would be so slammed with other work that we’d be lucky to see you before spring.”

Bob laughed. “You don’t know my dad very well, then. He always schedules a lot of open time after Thanksgiving so that if any of our jobs get hung up before then, we can at least get them done before Christmas.”

“And this year we stayed on schedule with everything but this one, honestly.” Ed’s smile went all the way to his eyes. “Besides, my wife would skin me alive if I wasn’t ready to go up to the cabin at Lake Arrowhead by Christmas Eve. We’ve done it since this guy was in diapers and
my
parents owned the cabin.”

It sounded like a great family getaway and I told him so. For a moment it made me sad that I wouldn’t be having a big family Christmas this year myself. Ben would leave the end of the week to go see Hal, and my mom isn’t the kind to surprise me by flying out. Just not her style. Hopefully Dot and Buck, or Linnette at least, would have room for me at one house or the other for the holidays. Spending them totally alone sounded awful.

Father and son made a few more notations and said goodbye so they could go over and talk to Dot. Once they left I heard doors shutting in the bathroom and the shower turn on. Ben was up for another morning before eleven without prodding. Maybe having a girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing for him after all. I couldn’t assume he was rising this early just to see me, but I’ll cheerfully reap the benefits of him wanting to go out with Cai Li.

We had a cheerful conversation while he ate a bowl of cereal. At least my end was cheerful. His started by taking me to task. “Did you have to ask so many questions?”

“Sure. Why should meeting her be any different than meeting your other friends through the years? Face it—I knew more about Ted after having been in the suite ten minutes than you guys had found out in a week.”

“Yeah, but was any of it important stuff?”

“It was to me. How’s his break going, anyway?”

Ben really looked at me then like I’d sprouted a second head. “How would I know? He went back home to Wherevers-ville in Minnesota and I’ll see him when we both get back to school.” His disbelief that I’d actually expect him to talk to or e-mail his roommate was more than evident. I decided it wasn’t a good time to point out that I still exchanged Christmas cards with my freshman-year roommate. Just the difference between the sexes, I guess.

It was time to start another subject. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

“We’ll probably hit a couple thrift stores, have lunch and maybe go for boba again.” His grin was wicked. “Want us to bring you back one? Tapioca Express over in Simi Valley makes a blue raspberry milk tea one that is a blue I can’t even describe.”

I tried to suppress a shudder. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Feel free to bring your friend back anyway. And this time I’ll try to keep my questions to a minimum.”

“As if that’s possible, Mom.” At least he was smiling when he said it.

Ben soon went off to visit thrift stores or whatever it was that the two of them decided to do, and while he was gone I wrapped his Christmas presents. There wasn’t a huge pile when I was done, but we’d never gone crazy with Christmas gifts anyway. Hal’s parents always went so far overboard that I learned early on not to compete. True, Grandpa Roger and his current wife tended toward gift certificates to places like Abercrombie & Fitch that Ben wouldn’t be caught dead shopping at. And Grandma Lillian, while she took a little more care in picking things out, still usually missed the mark.

I knew that the one video game—not the kind where any people blew up, thank you very much—and the DVD of a movie that he’d watched with Dave at least twice a week in seventh grade would go over well. The other things I wrapped were silly fun stuff like athletic socks with the Pacific Oaks panther mascot logo and a package of fine-point black pens in hopes that he wouldn’t run off in January with all of mine in the apartment.

I thought about calling my mom while I wrapped gifts but knew she’d only cluck at me. Her gifts for the two of us had been shipped the day after Thanksgiving and had probably been wrapped somewhere around Halloween. I was just happy that I’d gotten her present, a spiffy “Pac Oaks Mom” sweatshirt and matching coffee mug, before the bookstore closed once finals were over. Only my proximity to the store while working at the Coffee Corner made me that efficient—that and Linnette nagging me more than once in the last month of school.

Even the little bit of wrapping I did kept me busy for a couple hours in the afternoon. When I got up off the floor and stretched—a process that takes longer and feels worse every year—the clock proclaimed it to be 3:00 p.m. already. Walking off the stiffness in my knees, I went to the large front window and could see Buck out by the dog pens talking to a dark-haired kid. It looked like I would finally have a chance to meet Frankie Collins.

It was one of those contrary days where the sun shone brightly but a little breeze kicked up now and then, making it feel cooler than the 70 degrees the porch thermometer registered. The Capri-length jeans and T-shirt that felt just fine inside made me shiver a little when that bit of wind caught me going down the outside stairs. Still, I didn’t want to go back up and get a jacket and blow my Midwestern warm-blooded image. Besides, Frankie, like most kids his age, wore shorts with his impossibly large tennies and a long-sleeved T-shirt advertising a rock band in all its rude glory. He’d already think I was an old lady anyway, but I figured why confirm his beliefs.

Once I stood close to him he looked like exactly what he was, a slightly pudgy kid nowhere near needing to shave yet. I tried to remember where Dot said he was in school. Eighth grade stuck in my mind. That alone would explain why he hadn’t looked up once from his dog pen cleaning, even if I couldn’t see the headphones and portable CD player he wore. His head bobbed to the music as he halfheartedly worked with a hose.

“I’ll introduce you when I can make eye contact.” Buck’s voice behind me nearly put me airborne. I’d always startled easily, much to Ben’s delight. Now Buck put a large hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get you that stirred up.”

“Not a problem. Anybody talking behind me does it. So how’s he doing so far?”