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Chapter 18

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“Didn’t he have a Buddy the Bulldozer birthday party last year?” my mother asked while the nurse waited for her to swallow two pills.

“Yes. But who cares?” I replied, relieved that she was sitting up in the hospital bed and not attached to machines as I’d pictured her. “It’s still one of his favorite things. And I still have the decorations, the plates, and the napkins. I know where to get the cake. I just have a lot going on. I can’t plan a whole new kind of party right now. This is the best I can do.”

“All right,” she said. “If that’s what you want to do.”

“Yes. It is what I want to do. Ethan still loves Buddy! He’ll probably have a Buddy wedding! So please... just, please!”

The nurse smirked as she took the pill holder and marked something on a chart.

I was yelling at my mother after she had gotten internal organs removed only a few days earlier. I had to make myself understood, even there, even in that situation.

Am I the worst daughter in the world or just the Western Hemisphere? I couldn’t just let her win this one? I couldn’t say, “You’re right. I’ll think of something else,” even if I didn’t plan to think of something else? I couldn’t concede a little?

My mother had had surgery on a Monday. I’d requested the day off from work but wasn’t able to get to the hospital again until three days later. Orly had been by her side around the clock but was now picking the girls up from a friend’s house. My father had to take care of a client’s toilet bowl that had overflowed, but he’d also been there pretty much nonstop. The surgery had gone well, and it looked like my mother would be released over the weekend. I would be able to be there when she got home because Ethan would be with Mark. I would have to come up with yet another excuse for where they were. I planned to tell my family what was going on, but I wanted to wait until after the surgery and after my mother felt better.

After the nurse left the room, I did the only generous thing I could think of. I changed the subject. “Do you know anyone who has been to Mexico recently?” I asked. I had been considering going away by myself, just for a weekend. The weekends were lonely in our big house, and I thought maybe I would go away by myself for a spa weekend sometime in the next few months.

“Aunt Fran. That’s where she and Uncle Eddie went on their honeymoon. So, well, not recently. That was, what are we talking here, almost thirty-seven years? Oh my God, thirty-seven years...”

“I’m thinking of taking a vacation.”

“You’ll have to find a kid-friendly resort. A lot of them don’t allow kids.”

“I was going to go alone.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Why alone?”

“I just need some time away.”

“You can’t travel alone to another country.”

“Ethan will be fine. He’ll be with Mark. He’s with him every weekend anyway.”

“Huh?”

Shit. “I mean, in Long Island, I do so much to care for Ethan during the week that Mark really shoulders the burden—bath, bedtime, all that stuff—on the weekends.”

Nice save.

“Oh.” She leaned to her right.

“Hand me my comb and that mirror.” She pointed at a makeshift vanity set that had been erected by the window, complete with her magnifying mirror and makeup bag. “Why wouldn’t you want to go away with your family?”

“When you were raising us, didn’t you ever wish you had time to yourself?”

“No.”

My mother looked tired, but her makeup was done, and her rings, bracelets, and earrings were all on. She even had her nails done. Her manicurist had stopped by the day before. That was who’d brought the third set of flowers, which was sitting on the windowsill, next to the one from my father and the one from Orly.

Am I the only one who remembered my mother hates flowers? “They die after a few days. What a waste of money,” she would say. So, I’d brought her a cannoli from Carrolla’s Bakery.

“I don’t want that. I have no appetite,” she’d said. “The pain meds make me nauseous.”

“Well then, smell it later. It smells better than flowers,” I’d replied, leaving it on the table next to her bed.

I stood up from the vinyl-covered guest chair to check my phone charging in the corner. “I have to go back to work.”

“Why don’t you have that party at that Long Island play place. Do they do parties? Ethan’s always talking about that place. I bet he’d love that.”

“I think they have a party room. But then you’d have to come from Queens.” And I’ve been relieved to not have to go to that place since Ethan is with Mark on the weekends now. I can’t bear the thought of running into Jessica.

“We’ll be coming from Queens to your house anyway.”

True. Why am I pushing back on this? Why do I push back on everything my mother suggests?

“That’s actually a good idea. Then I won’t have to worry about getting the house cleaned before and after, and I can combine friends and family and have only one party.”

“See. Your mother had a good idea. I can’t wait to see Ethan.”

Ethan hasn’t seen my parents since Mark moved. So now I would have to tell my family about Mark and me before the party in case Ethan mentioned “Daddy’s place.”

“I’ll look into it.” I reached for my phone and bag just as Aunt Fran walked through the door.

“Don’t tell me you’re going. What timing,” Aunt Fran said as she rested her black-and-gold pocketbook and a pastry box on the chair.

“I have to go back to work,” I explained. “But, oh! I almost forgot.” I fished through my tote bag for a manila envelope buried at the bottom. “I found these,” I said as I pulled out the envelope. “I thought they’d make you laugh.”

For some reason, I’d woken up that morning with an urge to look at old pictures. Before Ethan had woken, I’d tiptoed to the ottoman in the television room, where I kept old photo albums.

It was filled with pictures from the days before kids had their picture taken multiple times a day. I peeled off the funniest ones—summers in our pool, trips to the shore, hanging out on the boardwalk, trips to Sesame Place and Hershey Park, and all the Halloween pictures. I’d been a cheerleader the same year Gina was a punk rocker. Orly and Andrea had gone as a pair of salt and pepper shakers.

I’d stuffed the photos in an envelope but hesitated before putting them in my bag. What if they make her sad? But something had told me to take them, so I did.

I handed the envelope to my aunt. “I have to go, but I’ll leave these with you.”

Aunt Fran took it and opened it. She stared curiously at the first picture on top then burst out laughing. “Jo, look!” She brought it over to my mother.

“Okay, talk to you later.” I slipped out, hearing their laughter in the background. It was a beautiful sound, and I stopped for a minute to listen.

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AFTER MEETING WITH the manager of Long Island at Play, Gloria Fleishman—a wiry-haired, middle-aged, plump woman who could give my mother a “run fuh heh money” in the New York-accent department—Ethan’s fourth birthday party was planned. I took my folder with my invoice and the It’s a Birthday at LI at Play invitations, which I had no intention of mailing. Instead, I planned to send emails, social media messages, and texts to my family. I walked into the bouncing-ball room, which should have been called the “children bouncing off the wall” room. I spotted Ethan, who was in midbounce.

“Two minutes,” I called. I’d planned to wait for him right by the bouncing balls so I wouldn’t run the risk of seeing Jessica, but after I pried him away after ten minutes and turned to leave, I ran right into Danielle, Melody, and Jessica sitting along the wall on the way out.

Crap.

“Hi,” I said as I rushed by them, holding Ethan’s hand. “I’m in a hurry. One of those days.”

“Did you just get here?” Melody asked.

I just said I’m in a rush, Melody, and I’m literally walking toward the door.

“Actually, I’m on my way out.” I smiled.

“I’m having my party here!” Ethan announced and then wiggled free of my hand and ran for the ropes course.

Crap.

“When is it?” Jessica asked.

I moved closer toward them as I readjusted my bag on my shoulder and the party folder in my hand.

“Sunday, the eighteenth. Pizza and cake and all the bouncing off the walls he and my nieces can fit into three hours.”

“Are we invited?” Melody asked.

Fucking Melody.

Before I could say “No, just family, sorry,” I remembered I had to guarantee at least fifteen kids, and I wasn’t even close. I was planning on paying the penalty, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if there were so many other people there. Maybe Jessica would have something to do that day, but I would still get the Tree kids and Melody’s kids to help lower the quota penalty.

“Yeah. I’ll send you the invite on Frontbook.”

“We never see you or Ethan anymore,” Melody said.

“The party will be great,” Danielle interjected. “We’ve been to one before. They do a good job here.”

“Oh, good. It’s going to be mostly family, so be forewarned—you’re going to meet my mother.” I turned to find Ethan but was called back.

“Can you sit for a minute?” Jessica asked. “We haven’t seen you in so long.”

Oh God. “Sure,” I said. “I love your hair blown straight. It looks nice. Do you have somewhere to go tonight?”

“Ha, no. Thanks. We actually just got back from Florida. My husband gave me a bunch of spa treatments and salon packages, so on the last day, I thought I’d get a nice blowout.”

Florida? With your husband?

“So now you know I haven’t washed it in a day.” She laughed.

So did Melody and Danielle.

I couldn’t even fake it. “Did you bring the kids?”

“Yeah. But my husband also paid for our babysitter to come along, so we had a lot of time alone, a lot of time to do other things, especially at night.” She looked directly at me.

Does she know something now? Did he confess? What about the other woman and her baby?

“That’s so great,” Melody piped in. “I have to remember that next time we go away. Bring the babysitter!”

“How long did you go for?” I asked.

“Four days, three nights. Not too long. Just enough time.” Jessica sipped her latte as her eyes peered over her cup at me.

I see. Just enough time to forgive your spouse and fall in love with each other again. My husband, in the meantime, was in someone else’s apartment in the city, and I was alone with Ethan in our house. Wow, Todd got a reconciliation, and I got a separation.  

My breath caught in my throat. That throat thing again. Fuck.

No, I did the right thing. When I knew it wasn’t going to work out with Todd, I could have just stayed with Mark, never saying a word. But I did the right thing. It wasn’t sustainable. Still, right or wrong, I can’t say this doesn’t sting.

I tried to nonchalantly reach for my throat. I swallowed and sat up straight.

“Are you okay?” Melody asked.

Fucking Melody.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. I... I...” I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I told the truth. “Sometimes I get these, like, heart palpitations. I don’t know what it is.”

Intermittently, each of them said, “I get that,” “Me too,” and “Every once in a while.”

I stood. “Well, it was good to see you guys. I have to go.”

“Send us the party info,” Danielle called.

“I will.” I flung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the ropes to grab Ethan.

“Don’t forget!” Melody called.

Fucking Melody.