I Was Told It Would Get Easier(66)
“Jesus, Jess, what happened to you? When we were in college you were stubborn, sure, and yes, you liked a goal, but since when did simply sticking to a plan become the goal?”
I’d possibly had too much to drink for this conversation and said so. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to explain, the wine is making me tired.”
Helen clicked her tongue. “You wanted to be a Supreme Court justice, remember? We all sat in the student union and watched RBG’s confirmation. She was a freaking alum, you were all I’m going to be the second female Columbia grad to ascend to the Supreme Court, and I’m taking my gold medal with me. You were so certain.”
I laughed. “Well, so much for that, then. No medal, no Supreme Court . . . two for two.”
Helen ordered another round of drinks, which was probably ill-advised. “Did you go back to archery? Last time I saw you, in LA that time, you said you were thinking of picking it back up.”
“Yeah, still thinking.”
“Do you miss it?”
I shrugged. “Sure, but it could only be a hobby. It’s not like I can compete anymore.”
“So? Would you encourage Emily to only do things she was good at? Isn’t it fun to get better at something? Did I tell you I took up cooking last year?”
“No. Really?”
“Yes, really. I’m terrible at it, but I’m learning. I also took up ballroom dancing, but I didn’t enjoy it AND I was terrible at it, plus it always resembled a giraffe dancing with her baby.” She laughed. “I met a nice guy, though.”
“A baby giraffe?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We have fun, nothing serious.” She leaned forward. “When did you stop having fun?”
I stared into my drink. “I don’t know. Work used to be fun, Emily used to be fun, but lately neither is exactly a barrel of laughs.”
“Well, then your current plan clearly sucks. I’ve got no idea why you’re sticking to it so religiously.”
My phone pinged, and I turned it over. “It’s Emily, she’s saying good night.” I smiled at Helen. “I’ve stayed up later than my teenager, that’s a first.”
“Good. Shake it up.” We looked at each other, then she said, “But now, I expect, you’re going to bed, too, so you can kiss her good night.”
I stood up. “Yup. Way past my bedtime.”
Helen stood, too, and we hugged. I wondered if I felt like a baby giraffe and asked her the question I ask every time I see her. “Are you still glad you never had kids of your own?”
She nodded. “I get a new class of kids every year, when on earth would I have had time for my own?” She was serious for a moment. “Besides, actual children grow up and go away, whereas mine arrive fully grown and are much better at staying in touch.”
Friday
Rhinebeck, NY, and Poughkeepsie, NY
8:00 a.m.: Theme breakfast: Challenges!
10:00 a.m.: Bard College
Drive 48 minutes to Poughkeepsie
2:00 p.m.: Vassar College
Drive 1 hour and 30 minutes on the E3 College Coach to NYC
5:00 p.m.: Check into hotel in NYC
21
EMILY
When Mom came up last night, she was a little drunk, I won’t lie. I could tell because she walked into the closet instead of the bathroom, but also because she threw herself down on the bed and wanted to chat.
Normally I’m down for chatting, but dude, I was tired and I had a lot on my mind. I tried to let her down gently.
“Emily,” she’d said into the bedspread. “Do you ever wonder about life?”
“In what sense?” I’d replied cautiously.
She lifted her head and looked at me owlishly. “In the lifeyness sense, like how it keeps going and you sort of go along with it because, you know, it’s life and what’s the alternative, not anything good, so you meander along and suddenly you’re old and then you’re dead and what is it all really about?”
I went for something neutral. “Sure.”
“Me, too,” she said, then laid her head down on the pillow and started snoring. I pulled off her shoes and covered her with a blanket, then climbed back into bed. Then I got out, hunted through my bag for earplugs, and tried again.
Now, this morning, she was clearly hungover and feeling weird. I tried to be kind.
“Do you want me to bring you something up to eat, Mom? You can sleep in.”
She shook her head, regretted it, and covered her eyes for a moment. “No, I’m good. What’s the theme?”
“It’s circus tricks. We’re all going to do circus tricks.”
She gazed at me in absolute horror.
“I’m joking,” I said, “it’s challenges.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Almost as bad, although I am a walking example of overcoming.”
She got to her feet, reached out for me to balance herself, and then tottered into the bathroom.
* * *
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I’m not sure what got into Cassidy’s cornflakes, but she was in a Bad Mood. It could be that veterinarians were hogging all the tables again, which meant she had to coordinate one big conversation rather than drinking coffee in peace and quiet.