Summer of '69(90)

“Pick, are you okay? Is everything all right? Are you trying to find Lorraine?”

He nods while looking at the pavement, then he meets Kate’s eyes. “You knew her, right? My mom?”

“Oh,” Kate says. It serves her right for opening her mouth. “I knew her a long time ago. But yes, she worked for our family for years.” Kate swallows. “She used to keep an eye on the children, my older children, when they were very young.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Pick says. “I don’t know where she went or when she’s coming back. There’s stuff I want to tell her. This whole summer…I mean, I got a job and got promoted to the hot line—”

Kate smiles. “Congratulations.”

“And I have a new girlfriend. Her name is Sabrina. She’s the prettiest waitress at the restaurant and she’s funny, too, and smart. There are these two old ladies who come to eat at the restaurant all the time and Sabrina calls them Arsenic and Old Lace.” Pick’s eyes, she notices, are Lorraine’s eyes, the frosted blue of sea glass. “I’m sorry.”

Kate places a hand on his arm. He’s as brown as a berry, as the saying goes. “Don’t apologize. If anyone understands missing someone, it’s me. My son is overseas.”

“Jessie told me,” Pick says. “You must be proud.”

“I am,” Kate says. “But it’s difficult, of course.” They stand together another few seconds without anything to say, then Kate turns to the phone. “Well, I’d better make my call.”

Pick climbs on his bike. “See you at home.”

Home, she thinks. He’s lived there four weeks with people he barely knows, and he considers it home. That’s either wonderful or the saddest thing Kate has ever heard; she can’t decide which.

She drops a dime in the slot and dials the number.

“Laundry Real Estate,” the receptionist says.

“Yes,” Kate says. “I’d like to make an offer on a house.”





Fly Me to the Moon (Reprise)



Almost by magic, Blair wakes up one morning and feels fine. She feels better than fine; she feels energized. She climbs out of bed and puts on her dress. The orange corduroy dress Kate bought her is just too hot to wear in mid-July but having it has given Blair the chance to wash, iron, and mend her trusty yellow dress, which she has nicknamed “Old Yeller.” She gets downstairs to breakfast before Exalta and Jessie leave for Jessie’s tennis lesson. Jessie stares morosely into her bowl of cereal. Two days earlier, Jessie had tapped on Blair’s door to tell her she had gotten her period.

“What do I do?” Jessie asked.

Blair had nearly said, Go find Mom, but these days talking to Kate was as effective as talking to someone on television; Kate might have spoken to Jessie, but she wouldn’t really have heard what she said. Kate couldn’t be relied on or confided in these days. That was okay; Blair would use this opportunity to hone her maternal skills. She hauled herself up off the sofa.

“I’ll go to Congdon’s Pharmacy,” Blair said. “Run up and fetch my purse.”

Later, after she showed Jessie how to best manage her monthly, she said, “We should go out and get you a bra.”

Jessie had reddened.

“Facts of life,” Blair said.



This morning, after Exalta excuses herself to get dressed before they leave for the club, Blair touches Jessie’s shoulder. “You and me, this afternoon,” she says. “Buttner’s.”

For breakfast, Blair eats a banana with peanut butter, then she cleans up everyone’s dishes and sets a glass of orange juice and a bowl of lightly sugared strawberries at her mother’s place. She heads back upstairs and changes the sheets on her bed for the first time since she’s arrived. She loves the feeling of fresh, clean sheets; the ones she has chosen are white with sprigs of lavender printed on them. When the bed is made and the pillows plumped, Blair takes the dirty sheets down to the washing machine, then sets up the clothesline in the yard. It’s a glorious day and she wants nothing more than to sit on the steps and raise her face to the sun, but there’s no time to waste. She has a lot to accomplish.

She goes upstairs to pack her bag for the hospital: a nightgown she abandoned four months ago that she hopes will fit once the twins are born, slippers, hairbrush, perfume, curlers, toothbrush, compact, and a copy of Dr. Spock that she has yet to even crack open.

She straightens her room, dusts the top of the dresser, then pulls the vacuum out of the hall closet. She runs the sweeper over the wood floors and the braided rug.

She goes downstairs, pulls the linens out of the washing machine, and hangs them on the line. She hears Exalta and Jessie arrive home. Perfect timing! she thinks. She’ll take Jessie to Buttner’s and then to the Charcoal Galley to celebrate her entry into womanhood.

Blair intercepts Jessie as she’s striding across the backyard to Little Fair. “Hey, get changed, we’re going to Buttner’s then out to lunch.”

“Okay,” Jessie says. She looks a little happier than she did that morning, but then Blair hears voices and Jessie’s expression collapses like a soufflé. Blair peeks out from behind the hanging bedsheets to see Pick approaching on his bike with a pretty blond perched on the handlebars. They come to a screeching halt on Plumb Lane and the girl laughs as she tumbles off the bike and onto the street, just barely managing to stay on her feet.