Mother's Child, page 20
During Ernie’s extended time away from school, I stayed close to home and took him with me when I had to go shopping or made a trip to the Starbucks drive through. Given his recent battle with low energy and vomiting, I was fearful that he might be approaching another MODS event.
Tim worked overtime as end-of-quarter corporate tax preparations approached. Most nights he didn’t come home until after 7 pm.
Christmas and New Year’s were approaching too, and after the holidays, he would be working on Saturdays, preparing his clients for springtime tax season. So, my time confined to the house was only going to get longer as the months went along if Ernie continued to need to stay at home.
Normally, during this time of year, Tim loved to putter around the house. He would spend time tightening all the loose kitchen cabinet handles, changing the smoke alarm batteries, or preparing the house for winter; he found this relaxing. As fall went along, his putzing would evolve to cleaning the gutters, raking and bagging leaves, and cleaning the garage. Tim would often involve Ernie in these little tasks as his special helper. It was fun bonding time with his dad for Ernie and he was especially helpful at diving into a newly raked pile of leaves that had been neatly gathered before bagging.
Tim wasn’t overly fond of this activity, but he chuckled at how much fun Ernie had.
The best part for Ernie was Tim chasing him around the yard threatening him with the rake. Ernie would run in circles for a bit, his dad in hot pursuit, then find a pile of freshly-raked leaves and collapse into them. Tim would then grab handfuls of leaves and throw them on top of Ernie until he was completely covered. Ernie, short of breath but still in the game, would wait until he was smothered in leaves and then slowly rise out of them like a zombie coming back to life. He would stand straight up, arms extended unbent outward–like a Frankenstein monster–and walk toward Tim, growling and spitting leaves out of his mouth. Tim would feign horror and fear and run away screaming, Ernie walking ever faster toward him, acting more menacing with each step.
Depending upon how much energy Ernie had, this would eventually end with Ernie on top of his dad, the two of them laughing and pleased with themselves and their play.
Tim’s reward for his completed chores and encounter with Frankenstein, was a cold beer and the afternoon sports game. During this time of year, there was always something on–baseball, pro and college football, basketball, or soccer; Tim was never at a loss for something to cheer for or against.
Ernie would join Tim on the couch, glass of juice in hand, and the two men would sip their brews and share commentary about each team’s performance and the stupidity of refs.
As an observer to their vociferous bonding time, I learned that one thing all sports have in common is the ineptitude of the officials. The only thing that could drag Ernie away from watching sports with Tim was Elsie looking for something to do, such as coloring or watching some silly video on YouTube.
Now, with Ernie’s health in jeopardy and still needing to recover, his bonding activities with his dad were limited; there would be no leaf- raking or Frankenstein moments. He would have to settle for yelling at the players and refs on TV.
I had barely any connection left with my office, and I wasn’t taking on any new clients, so there was little or no opportunity to socialize even there. I only had two familiar places to get adult time–some needed “me” time. I wasn’t looking for anything grand, just an hour here or there on the weekend to connect with a friend. Most of my college friends had move away or had families of their own. Some, I just lost touch with.
My two options were to spend time with Ginny, who had so often taken Elsie during one of Ernie’s unpredictable emergencies; and Elizabeth, my new “friendly” reporter whose company I was learning to appreciate.
I decided to call Ginny and invite her out for lunch on a Saturday while I still had Tim at home to watch Ernie.
I wanted to go someplace nice and treat Ginny for all her kindnesses shown Elsie in our times of need. There was a great little bistro downtown known for their amazing brunch offerings. They had an outdoor seating area in the back, with a trellis vined with delicate white lights woven between the green of rambling ivory. The tables and chairs were white wrought iron with flower pedals intermittently placed as to not overwhelm the clean simplicity of the overall design. Heaters were placed inside a large awning that could be opened or closed on all sides, making the area usable all year round.
The menu had the bistro’s take on brunch classics such as eggs benedict and corned beef hash along with some specialties like Italian panna cotta pancakes, Dutch pannekoeken with stroop, and English bangers and mash. Theirs was an eclectic menu where anyone could experiment or go for America’s standard eggs and bacon and sausage fare. And they made a great Bloody Mary with a green olive, celery, and a crispy piece of bacon.
I called Ginny excited, thinking about how nice brunch with her would be and what a great treat–for both of us.
Ginny answered her cell phone after about five rings, just before the call went to voice mail.
“Ginny! Hi it’s June. I am so glad I caught you.”
“Oh, hi June.” Ginny said. She definitely lacked my enthusiasm. “Listen,” I said, pressing on anyway, “so, you have been such a doll watching Elsie all the time and I really appreciate it. And, ughh, it’s has been so long since you and I just had a coffee or anything more than a wave across the street. God knows I could use some adult conversation time with a friend,” I was babbling.
“Well, anyway I want to take you to Bella Famiglia for brunch on Saturday.” I said anticipating that my invite to this well-known restaurant would garner some returned enthusiasm.
My sentence hung there for a moment or two as if I had just asked to borrow a thousand dollars. Finally, she responded.
“Oh. Oh, that isn’t necessary June. I was happy to help.” Her reply was flat.
“No. I know. I mean I get you were just being a good friend, but I want to do something nice in return, and like I said, I would enjoy your company.” I rephrased my words slightly, thinking maybe I had just caught her off-guard with my gesture.
“Really, June you don’t have to do that; and actually, I can’t possibly get away Saturday.”
“Oh. Oh, well it doesn’t have to be this Saturday. How about next week?” I was disappointed. I really wanted to do it this week.
“Ah, well, I can check with Geoff, but I’m pretty certain he has family outings planned for us for the next few weeks. You know with the holidays coming up and family coming to town and stuff like that.” Geoff is Ginny’s ex-husband. I was surprised to hear her include him in holiday plans given their ugly divorce.
“Oh. Okay. Yes, I forgot about the holidays and everything.” I answered with my own version of apparent disinterest.
“Well. Thanks for the call and happy holidays.”
“Yeah. Yes, happy holidays.”
As I hung up, I was taken aback. Ginny would normally have loved an invitation like this. She would have refused at first not wanting to make more of her deeds than necessary, but she would have been talked into it and excited to go. This call was like speaking to a stranger. I could have been selling time shares and gotten as much interest.
I didn’t know what to make of it. I wondered if maybe she was having difficulties at home and didn’t want to be around people. We were friends, but not best friends; maybe she didn’t want me asking questions she couldn’t answer.
Anyway, I decided to put the conversation out of my head for now and try option number two–Elizabeth. We had said we would keep in touch and even went so far as to mention a lunch date, so I thought this might be good timing.
I had put her number in my phone which was a good thing because I somehow managed to lose the cards she gave me, or they were buried too deeply in my pocket book to find. It took only two rings for Elizabeth to answer.
“Hi Elizabeth, this is June…” That’s as much as I got out before she chimed in.
“Yes Junie, I know it’s you, your name comes up on my cell phone. Welcome to the 21st century.”
Her bright-voiced response was refreshing. She was teasing me, and I welcomed it.
“Okay, if you’re going to make fun of me, there will be no free Bloody Mary in your future.” I picked up our usual smart-assed banter.
“Oooh, free Bloody Mary? I’m in. When and where?”
“Well, we are going to Bella Famiglia and…Saturday?”
“Bella Famiglia? I love that place!” Her excitement made me smile and my heart feel better. “Oh and best Bloody Marys. What day? My mind stopped working after Bella Famiglia.”
“You mean it stopped working after Bloody Mary. So, Saturday.”
“Sat-ur-day…Sat-ur-day…” Elizabeth said while she considered her calendar. “I have a meeting on Saturday…ehhh the heck with him. I’ll re-schedule. Saturday. Definitely. What time?”
“Is 11 am too early?”
“Yes, that is too early for my first Bloody Mary,” she said with a laugh. Make it 12:30. And give us two hours. I have lots to catch up with you.”
“Oh. Okay. I will make a reservation for 12:30.”
“And try to get us outside in the patio. It’s supposed to be warm Saturday.”
“Wow. Any other demands for your free brunch?”
“Don’t be late.”
“Aye, Aye captain. See you Saturday at 12:30.” I was smiling ear to ear and it felt so good.
“Great. This is going to be such fun!” Elizabeth said. “I thought I was going to have another dull Saturday. See ya then! Bye.”
And that was that. Simple. I still had a huge grin on my face while I searched my phone for the restaurant’s number. I wanted to make the reservation before I forgot or got shut out of the time Elizabeth wanted.
What a contrast to the conversation with Ginny. Where Ginny was dry and void of interest, Elizabeth was bright and excited and full of life. I still felt bad for how the conversation with Ginny went and it didn’t sit well with me, but I needed Elizabeth and her zest. I looked forward to Saturday.
Chapter Twelve
Bella Famiglia
On Thursday evening, Tim came home later than usual and informed me that he might have to work on Saturday. He was meeting with bookkeepers from the new “big” client ahead of the fourth quarter and end-of-year closing of the books.
Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. And I was not giving up my brunch.
“You cannot work on Saturday Tim,” I told him in no uncertain terms.
“Whoa!” he said, looking at me as though some demon had entered my body. “Why not? I’ll clean out the gutters when I get home. Ernie will help me. Right buddy?” Tim directed the last of his sentence to Ernie who was sitting in the kitchen with me. Tim sat next to me.
“No. Else and me ride bikes Saturday.” Ernie corrected his dad.
“Oh.”
“Tim. I don’t give a shh…um…poop about the gutters.” I said catching myself before I said the “s” word in front of Ernie. But hearing the word “poop” was much better for Ernie and it sent him into the giggles.
Elsie bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, apparently spurred on by the sound of her brother’s giggling.
“What’s so funny?” She asked and plopped herself into the seat next to Ernie.
“Poop! Mommy said we have poopy gutters and Daddy wants me to help him clean them.” Ernie continued through his laughter. Tim cracked up.
“Ohhh gross Dad!” Elsie scrunched up her face in disgust.
“Ughh, that is not what I said Ernie. I said I didn’t care about…the poopy gutters.” I answered using Ernie’s exaggerated emphasis on the word ‘poopy’. Then I laughed too. Ernie had a way of affecting everyone around him with his silliness. What really amazed me though, was how long of a response Ernie gave. It was one of the longest sentences he had said in a quite a while, and it needed no interpretation. Was this a good effect from his vitamin cocktails?
I mentally gathered myself and tried to get back on topic.
“Seriously Tim. If you work on Saturday, you have to be back before noon. I have plans and you need to stay with these two…adorable children.” I added with mockery while flashing an exaggerated grin at Elsie and Ernie.
“What plans?” Tim questioned.
“Plans. Something I have to do.”
“Well, how long will you be gone? Elsie can watch Ernie.”
“We’re going bike riding Saturday after breakfast.” Elsie piped up.
“No, Tim, you can go bike riding with them both…and you two can wait for daddy to come home…before noon. I don’t want Ernie outside without one of us.” I insisted. “And that’s only if Ernie has the energy to ride his bike.” I added. I wondered again if Ernie’s newfound energy was the result of his cocktail.
“I don’t know if we’ll be done by then. And, you didn’t answer my question. What plans?” Tim kept prodding.
“Why do you have to know every little thing I am doing?” I said not wanting to hear some judgment about why I was going to be out and spending money on myself and a friend.
“Umm, because I’m your husband, and because you’re telling me I have to stay home from work.” Tim rose from his chair and knelt next to mine. “And because I wuv you.” He said mimicking a child as he kissed my cheek and nuzzled my neck.
“Ewe!” Came the coordinated response from Elsie and Ernie.
“Yeah, Tim, ewwwww-uh,” I said half kidding as I pretended to wipe Tim’s slop from my neck. That made Ernie and Elsie laugh harder.
“Okay fine,” I continued. “If you must know…I’m having brunch with Elizabeth.”
I said it quickly, rose just as fast, and clapped my hands. “Okay kids, get the table set…dinner in five minutes.”
I went to the cabinet to get the dishes out. Dinner had been simmering in the crock pot all day. It just happened to be one of Tim’s favorites; beef bourguignon with vegetables. I had a French baguette warming in the oven and the makings for a Caesar salad.
When I turned back toward the table, Tim was still kneeling next to my chair. He gave me one of his, “are you kidding me?” looks. I smiled at him.
“Come on Tim,” I barked, like a drill sergeant at boot camp. “The Caesar salad stuff is in the fridge. Chop, chop! Get on that salad.”
I just kept going along as though everything was perfectly normal. The kids joined me, doing their respective table-setting chores. Tim didn’t say anything. He slowly shook his head at me as if to say “typical”–and went about making the salad.
Tim had spent a year in college working part-time as a waiter. One of the restaurant’s specialties was a Caesar salad which the waiters made at diners’ tables to serve fresh on their plates. It really was quite good.
Dinner went without any further mention about my upcoming brunch with Elizabeth. I guess on a scale of importance it didn’t rank very high. Elsie was unusually talkative and told us all about her day at school. She had to write a scene to act out as a pantomime and present it in class. She had to have a partner for the scene and she chose Beamer, Ginny’s son.
Elsie nonchalantly told us that Beamer had hesitated for a bit, looking around the room at other available kids, before accepting an invitation to partner with the girl who he secretly fancied. By the time he had made up his mind, most everyone was partnered except for Cyndy, the shiest girl in the class…maybe the entire school. No one wanted to do a scene with someone who didn’t speak.
Elsie said she was upset with Beamer and the other girl at first, but then seeing Cyndy standing alone without anyone to partner with, Elsie felt bad for her. So, she walked up to Cyndy and asked if she would be her partner. Cyndy smiled and agreed.
“Wow honey, I’m surprised about Beamer,” I said, “but that was so nice that you asked the shy girl. She probably appreciates it.”
“Yeah honey,” Tim added, “That was a nice gesture.”
“Not really,” Elsie said and ducked her head while she poked at her salad with her fork. “I mean I felt bad for her and everything, but we were the last ones left so if I didn’t ask her, I would be by myself. Besides, I figured, it’s a pantomime. So, you don’t have to speak. She just has to act something out with me with gestures. How hard can that be?” Elsie confessed before she took a long drink from her glass of milk.
“What’s a panty mine?” Ernie spoke up not realizing what he had said. Tim and I burst into laughter. Elsie laughed so hard that milk started coming out of Elsie’s nose. Ernie just stared at us looking sorry he didn’t get the joke and couldn’t laugh along, although he was amused at Elsie’s nose-spurt.
“Oh my God, bro” Elsie chortled. “It isn’t panty mine.” It’s panto-mime. Say it…panto…” Elsie tried to get Ernie to learn the word without sending us all back into our laughing fits.
“You’re a panty head, say it!” Ernie blurted and pushed back his chair with a loud scrape. He ran from the table and up the stairs to his room.
We looked at each other in amazement. Ernie had never reacted this way before. He either would laugh at himself or have no reaction at all. I started to push my chair back to get up and check on him. I felt somewhat guilty for my participation in the joke, but Elsie got up first.
“I got this Mom. I speak Ernie.” Elsie said before she rushed out of the kitchen in pursuit of her little brother.
I looked at Tim, Tim looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. Tim shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. You and Elsie laughed most.
“I feel bad,” I said. “Ernie never gets this sensitive about things.”
Tim thought for a moment. He took a sip of his wine before responding. “Maybe he has always been this sensitive,” he said. “Maybe we just assumed he wasn’t because he was so quiet.”
