I Was Told It Would Get Easier(56)
“You don’t understand me,” said Chris.
“All the other mothers said yes,” said Dani.
“You’re the worst mother in the world.”
“You’ve ruined my life.”
“I’m never going to forgive you.”
“I hate you.”
I took another big sip. “And my favorite, I didn’t ask to be born. Thrown in the face of parents since the dawn of time, and still number one around the globe.”
Chris took the vape pen from Dani and inhaled deeply. “They’re so fucking immature.” He exhaled. “Mind you, we’re no better. I say the same shit back to them my mother said to me: You treat this place like a hotel.”
“Would it kill you to say thank you?”
“Are you going out dressed like that?”
“In my day, music had a melody.”
“You shouldn’t care what other people think about you.”
“You’re an ungrateful bitch with pores the size of Poughkeepsie.”
There was a pause as we both turned to Dani, who took another deep drag and exhaled.
“Only me then?” She shrugged. “Oh well.”
EMILY
Mom came back in while I was falling asleep, and we had the other conversation we have a lot.
She says: I’m sorry, sweetie, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.
I say: It’s okay.
She says: I get really frustrated.
I say: It’s okay.
She says: I worry about you, and I know I shouldn’t.
I say: It’s okay.
Then there is often a pause and she says: You’re still mad at me?
I say: No, it’s okay. It’s fine.
And at that point it goes one of two ways. Either she isn’t over it, in which case we fight again, or she is, in which case she’ll look at me for a long time, sigh, and go away.
That was how it went just now, and even though she can’t actually leave the room, we were lying in bed next to each other, totally alone.
Thursday
New Jersey
8:00 a.m.: Theme breakfast: Passions!
10:00 a.m.: Princeton University
Drive 2 hours and 30 minutes to Rhinebeck, New York, in the E3 College Coach! Packed lunch included!
2:00 p.m.: Check into hotel in Rhinebeck 2:30–6:30 p.m.: Free time!
7:00 p.m.: Dinner at the Beekman Arms—the oldest inn in the US! (three courses and two glasses of wine included) Overnight in Rhinebeck
17
JESSICA
I woke up this morning determined to do better today. Whatever that might mean. Today would be a day of peace and Zen self-awareness. With hopefully some empty time to google Ostergren’s firm and think about his offer. I wasn’t interested in the job, but I was interested in the salary. College would be easier to afford, especially if Emily didn’t pick one of the many excellent Cal State colleges, as I repeatedly suggested.
I faced myself in the mirror and wondered why I don’t look more like my mother. She had been a beautiful woman, though smoking had ruined her complexion before it destroyed her lungs. Not beautiful in the haughty, supermodel way Dani Ackerman is, but in the soft, friendly-eyed, natural way Emily is. Both beautiful and appealing. The kind of face you want to come out of a coma and see . . . I shook my head and started washing my face. I was apparently still more than half-asleep, and I could hear Emily stomping around in the bedroom, getting dressed. She has my mother’s stubbornness, too, along with the long lashes that hid it. Everyone thought my dad was the big shiny guy, heading out the door each morning smelling of aftershave and polish, off to do battle with the government or for the government, whichever it was that day. And he was—he was awesome. But my mom was the one who kept it all going, calling out goodbye to him from where she sat in the kitchen, either smoking a cigarette and reading the newspaper, or folding origami and reading the newspaper, depending on when this memory was happening. My dad had opinions, he had knowledge, he had experience in the world. But she had the real strength.
Emily banged on the door. “Hey, Mom, did you fall in?”
“Yes,” I replied, “I’m stuck in the toilet and you’re going to have to make it through the day without me.”
Then I pulled the door open.
“Disappointing,” said my daughter, passing me. “That picture would have gone viral in no time.”
* * *
? ? ?
This being a different hotel, the breakfast was in a different room. Windows, this time, which was an improvement, and a cooked breakfast, which wasn’t. I mean, you’d think it would be better, right? Eggs and all that jazz? But we were back in a big circle for some reason, and eating scrambled eggs on a plate on your lap is harder than it looks, and the need to coordinate hands and mouths while also talking and not making fools of ourselves was more than most of us could handle.
Cassidy was unbowed. “Sorry, we’re all together this morning, apparently there’s a conference of veterinarians monopolizing all the small tables in the hotel.” She hesitated. “To eat off, hopefully, rather than examine on.” She helped herself to fruit salad, speared each piece expertly in between questions, and generally appeared to be having the time of her life. I sincerely hope that isn’t the case, because she can’t be more than twenty-four, and life holds more joy than cut fruit in a roomful of customers.