I called Eddie from the back deck while Jonathan had his run, and I told him I was going to New York. Laurelin dropped into the lounge chair next to me in her sensible little sneakers and zip-up purple fleece.
“You’re going again?” she asked.
“Yeah. New York. It’s a big deal, kind of. Why?”
“I have a week away coming. Jerry is taking me to—”
“You can’t!” I sat up straight in my chair, tingling with adrenaline. “No, I mean. You can but not now. Please!”
“Don’t worry.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll set him up. He’ll be fine.”
I wanted to support her, and I wanted her to have a nice time. I wanted Jonathan to be fine. But the reality of him being alone wasn’t making it from my brain to my mouth. No, worry was taking a detour through my heart instead.
“You know what?” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I’ll just stay home. It’s not that big a deal.”
Laurelin leaned back and put her foot on the little glass-and-metal table. She must have thought I was schizophrenic. “You know, if this was my house, I’d never want to leave either. I’d just sit here and gestate all day.”
I laughed, and she smiled at me.
“I think you can go,” she said after a minute.
“Nah.”
“I think you should go.” I didn’t answer, just tilted my head a little, and she continued. “I’m not going to be here forever, and you all need to learn how to function. I mean, these issues? The pills and the way he has to log everything? They aren’t going anywhere. It’ll always be this way. And you hovering over him because you’re scared, I get it. But at some point, you have to let go.”
I set my jaw. “I’m not letting him go.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did. I knew she meant I had to stop mothering him, but I’d taken it the exact wrong way because it served my immediate purpose. If I acknowledged that I knew what she meant and that I’d heard it, I’d have to admit she was right.