“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” I told him.
“And hope is as blind as love,” he told me.
God, but the two men I loved most in this world had taken a licking by the women they gave their hearts to.
I straightened from the wall at that thought because I’d admitted to myself I was falling in love with Mickey.
I’d never admitted I was there.
Since in that moment my brother needed my attention, I shook this off and said, “Come for Thanksgiving and let me, Auden and Pip take care of you.”
“I’ll be there, MeeMee, and I’ll let you know what Mariel and I decide about the boys.”
Whereas I couldn’t wait to have my kids with me for a holiday, she’d probably shrug and say, “Whatever you think is best, Lawrence.”
Lawrie took us off that subject by asking, “Since you brought up Auden and Pip, things still going good with that?”
They were. It had been three days since Mickey and my fight. It was now Monday, his kids were back and as for my kids, the TV visits were continuing. Not to mention Pippa and Polly had a sleepover on Saturday night at my place (Pippa having a sleepover I was happy about, her bringing Polly, who, when she wasn’t being negative she was being mean, not so much).
And that evening, both of my kids were coming over and Auden had said they were spending the night.
We were definitely back. Things were Mom and Kids. It was a different brand of Mom and Kids that meant they had two homes and a divided family, but it was working for us.
I still had concerns there was something not right about it, but they didn’t seem to be cagey about anything. It was just like they wanted to spend time with their mom.
So I was taking it.
I shared all that with Lawrie and ended it, asking, “By the way, have you heard from Mom and Dad?”
“Mom called this weekend. She wanted to know when Mariel was taking her next spa weekend so she could come up. Since every other weekend is a spa weekend for Mariel and we’ve hit that rotation, she’s coming up on Friday. Why?”
Mom and I agreed on very few things. Our mutual dislike of Mariel was one of them. And a shocking twist to this, we both disliked her for the same reason.
Not that Mariel wasn’t the appropriately styled, turned out and behaved wife to a prominent attorney who also was a Bourne-Hathaway (because she was).
But that she didn’t make Lawr happy.
Mom avoided Mariel like the plague.
“I haven’t heard from them for a while. I’ve been emailing but I get nothing,” I explained.
“Neither of them are big on email,” Lawr reminded me.
“I know but they also haven’t phoned or anything. Not in weeks, or, Lawr, maybe even months.”
“They disagreed with you moving across country, MeeMee. Maybe this is your penance. But I’ll talk to Mom when she’s up this weekend. See if I can find out where she’s at with that.”
I knew he’d get nowhere with that. If Mom didn’t feel like sharing, and with her silence she obviously didn’t, she wouldn’t share.
I still said, “I’d appreciate it.”
“Consider it done.”
I smiled and asked, “You going to be okay?”
“In the stages of grief, I’m past denial, anger and bargaining. I’ve hit depression. One more to go and I’m good,” he joked.
I didn’t laugh.
“I’m here, anytime you need me, Lawrie,” I told him.
“I know, sweetheart,” he replied.
“I’ve gotta get back to the residents. Jeopardy is after Wheel of Fortune and the staff try to stick close in case a fight breaks out.”
I was relieved to hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I’ll let you go.”
“Lawrie?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you lots and lots,” I whispered words I’d say to him when he was there for me when we were kids. Putting a Band-Aid on my arm or calamine lotion on my poison ivy or listening to me after a boyfriend broke up with me. In that house with zero love and affection, he was the best brother there could be.
“Love you lots and lots back, MeeMee.”
“See you soon.”
“You will. ’Bye, sweets.”
“’Bye, Lawrie.”
We disconnected and I stared unseeing out the windows of the fire doors at the back of the hall.
I wanted to invite Robin to Thanksgiving.
I knew it would be too soon, maybe for both of them.
So I couldn’t invite Robin to Thanksgiving.
That didn’t stop me from really, really wanting to.
Then, suddenly, I found my hand lifting and my finger sliding across the screen of my phone.
I put it to my ear and heard it ring twice before I got, “Hey, baby.”
“Hey back,” I greeted Mickey then blurted, “I wanna go away with you.”
“Uh…what?”
“Whenever, wherever for however long you want to go. I don’t care. I want you to know I want to go with you. I want to take Pop Tarts and squirtable cheese and crackers, and other food we don’t have to cook that we can eat with our fingers so we can stay in bed naked all day together. I want to go, whenever, wherever, and I want it to be just about you and me.”
There was a moment of silence before he replied gently, “I love that, Amy, I love that you gave that to me. But gotta ask what brought it on.”
“My brother’s marriage is disintegrating.”
“Shit, Amy,” he muttered.
“So you need to know I want that. Not this weekend. Or next. No pressure. Whenever we can do it. Whenever we can fit it in. Whenever we have a day or two or five where we can do that. I just need you to know I want that. I want that with you.”
“We’ll find our time, darlin’,” he told me.
“And,” I swallowed, gathering the courage to go on, “if this keeps growing, I don’t ever want you to forget no matter how many weeks or months or years pass, all you need to do is tell me to pack a bag and I’ll do it, happy to go away with you.”
“Love that too, Amy,” he said softly and he sounded like he did. He sounded like he loved that.
And I loved that sound.
I closed my eyes. “Okay.”
“You okay?”
I opened my eyes. “I hurt for my brother,” I told him. “But I’m fine.”
“Life sucks. But if he’s getting out of a bad situation, it’s his first step to finding some happy.”
“I hope so.”