All We Ever Wanted(79)

“In the last few years?” she says.

“Absolutely,” I say, pleased that it’s actually the truth, although I don’t offer that it only happens when Finch plays basketball in remote rural locations and I literally have no other choice. Nor do I confess that I’ve been known to pack my own pillow and linens.

“Well, you definitely haven’t gone camping in the last twenty years,” Mom says, as it occurs to me that she may be nostalgic not only for the “good ol’ days” but also for the old me. “Other than glamping!” she adds, shaking her head with something approaching glee.

“Glamping? As in ‘glamorous camping’?” Teddy asks, clearly as amused as Mom.

“Bingo!” Mom says as the two laugh. Even Dad smiles.

“That’s a real thing?” Teddy asks me.

Mom answers for me, “Yes! In Montana. Right, Nina?”

“Right,” I mumble, grateful that she doesn’t also remember our glamping excursions in Big Sur and Tanzania.

“And, Teddy, you should see these ‘tents,’?” Mom says, making big air quotes. “Plumbing, heat…even heated floors! Fanciest tents you’ve ever seen!”

I can’t tell if she’s calling me out or bragging—but she has the same look on her face she gets whenever she asks me how much I paid for something. I know this is none of my business, she always starts. But how much did this set you back?

“Subject change, please, Mom,” I say, abrasiveness creeping into my voice.

   Mom’s smile quickly fades as she gives me a sincere under-her-breath apology, knowing she went a little too far.

“No, I’m sorry,” I say, regretting being so sensitive and dampening the jovial moment. I really need to lighten up. After all, it’s not a big secret that my life has changed—and that that change has a lot to do with money. “It’s just a little embarrassing….”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Mom says. “I think it’s wonderful that you’ve had so many neat experiences.”

“Me, too,” Teddy says, nodding.

“Me three,” Dad chimes in.

“Yeah. I’ve been lucky. In some ways,” I say. It’s a reference to Kirk, and I can tell that at least Mom picks up on it.

“Yes. Nobody has the ‘perfect life,’?” she says.

“True,” Teddy agrees. “There are pros and cons to everything. Every life.”

I nod.

“I mean, I hate that my boys aren’t with me full-time since the divorce,” Teddy says. “It stinks that they live in Charlotte. But…” He pauses, as I wonder where he’s going. What the pros to this situation could possibly be. “They’re in this fancy private school getting a really good education. An opportunity they wouldn’t have had here. Not to knock Vance and Tennessee,” he says, referring to the local middle and high schools that we attended and where Julie’s kids go now. “But Charlotte Country Day is way better. I could never have afforded a school like that. But their stepfather can. And he is happily paying for every dime. It’s a silver lining, for sure. You can always find one if you look hard enough.”

“I really hope so,” I say.

Suddenly my mom announces that it’s past their bedtime, but that “you kids” should keep catching up. Teddy looks as if he’s going to announce his own departure, so I quickly intervene. “One more beer?”

   I’m not sure whether I actually want him to stay—or just want to avoid a divorce talk with Mom, but I am happy when he says, “Sure. One more.”

As my parents and Teddy stand to hug goodbye, I go to the fridge and grab a Corona. While I’m putting in the lime, my parents walk into the kitchen behind me.

“You okay, sweetie?” Mom says, as she initiates a hug.

“Yes. I promise,” I say, hugging her back. “We can talk all about it in the morning.”

“Okay. Or come get me if you can’t sleep,” Mom says, the way she did when I was little. “Are you staying here or with Julie?”

“Here,” I say. “I just have to get my bag out of the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Dad says.

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a wave of love for my father. For both of them.

“Anything else you need?” Mom asks.

I shake my head. “No, thanks….I’m just really glad I’m here.”

“We are, too,” Dad says.

As I nod, collect Teddy’s beer, and head back toward the porch, I can feel Mom watching me. “Have fun,” she says a little too eagerly. “You never know what could—”

“Don’t say it, Mom,” I cut her off, glancing over my shoulder.

But she says it anyway, a goofy grin on her face. “Well, it could happen….You and Teddy, after all these years.”



* * *



—

“I FORGOT HOW awesome your parents are,” Teddy says when I get back to the porch, this time sitting across from him.

“Yeah. My mom’s a little nuts, though,” I say. No matter how much you don’t like your son-in-law, and I suspect that it may be a great deal in her case, normal people just don’t say something like that on the same evening their daughter tells them she’s getting a divorce. Then again, my mom clearly isn’t normal. For better or worse.