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“I will.” Troy’s Adam’s apple shifts.
“You have big shoes to fill some day at Logan Advertising.” Carl glances down at his size elevens, then winks. “I’m counting on you to send me off to retirement in about ten years.”
Clearing his throat, Troy blinks down at his size tens.
“If you need anything—” my voice falters “—we’re only a phone call away.”
Carl checks his watch, then takes my hand. “Bye, son.”
Panic seizes me. There’s so much more to say, but not enough time. One weekend here wasn’t long enough. Eighteen years wasn’t long enough. I look at Carl and silently plead one more minute. As if I can cram into sixty seconds everything I forgot to teach our son, to explain and impress upon him during his lifetime.
“You should have plenty of money in your account,” I tell Troy. “And I put extra on your student card.” The words rush out of me. “You understand how to use the card in the laundry machines, don’t you? And how to do the laundry?”
“Yes, Mom. You went over it a million times.” Embarrassment and exasperation strain his quick laugh.
“Ask your resident adviser if you have any questions. He’s there to help. And get involved in dorm activities. It’s a good way to meet people and make friends.”
Troy sends his father a desperate look.
“Dana, come on.” Carl tugs my arm. “We’ll be late.”
Ignoring him, I say, “Remember what we talked about. You’ll meet all kinds of people here, Troy. Good ones, but kids you’ll want to avoid, too. Be careful.”
“Jeez, Mom.” He cringes slightly and eyes a group of girls who walk by carrying boxes.
“Goodbye, sweetie.” I have to squeeze the words from my throat.
Turning, I follow Carl down the sidewalk. One step. Two. Three. Four. Deep breaths. In…out…in…out. Bringing Troy into the world was less painful than sending him off on his own to explore it. The cord may be cut, but we’re still connected. At least I am; when I look over my shoulder, Troy isn’t watching us leave, as I’d expected. His head is turned toward the dorm.
I flash back to the painting on the wall of the hospital labor room eighteen years ago. The mother clinging to her child, the boy detached, looking off into the distance.
“Don’t forget to call AAA if you have any car trouble,” I yell. “They’ll even change a flat tire or come out if you lock your keys inside.”
Troy turns squinting eyes on me, his shoulders slumped, his arms at his sides.
“He can change his own damn tire,” Carl mutters and tugs me again.
“Your allergy medicine’s in the first-aid kit I packed for you,” I add as Troy starts for the dorm.
“Dana.” Carl walks faster.
A sob builds in my chest as I watch the back of my baby’s shiny dark head, his tall, lanky frame, merge into a throng of University of Colorado freshmen hauling boxes and trunks, beanbag chairs, mini-refrigerators and stereo equipment. In my mind, he’s three years old again, lost in a crowd, and I can’t get to him. It’s almost more than I can do to look away. “I can’t stand to leave him.”
Carl digs keys from his pocket and gives me a sympathetic smile. “We’ve known for almost a year he’d be going to school here.”
I swipe at my eyes with a shaky hand.
We walk the rest of the way in silence. When we finally reach the car, Carl heads for the driver’s side door, and I head for mine.
I sink into my seat. “I feel like we’re abandoning him in a strange place with a bunch of strangers.”
“He’s not a little boy anymore—he grew up. It happens to everybody if they’re lucky.”
“He may look grown, but he’s still a kid.” We buckle up. “He doesn’t know how to take care of himself. He isn’t ready.” My nose starts running as we pull out. “He’s only done two loads of laundry in his entire life, and both of those were last week. The second time, I still had to give him directions. What if he doesn’t remember?”
“He’ll figure it out.” Carl turns onto the road. We merge into traffic.
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then he’ll wear dirty clothes. Nobody ever died from wearing the same underwear two days in a row. He’s a big boy, Dana. It’s time he started doing things for himself. You spoiled him.” Wincing, he glances at me and quickly adds, “We spoiled him. Taylor, too.”
“Why’d he have to get that stupid basketball scholarship?” My lip quivers as I stare out at the brilliant blue cloud-scattered sky. “We should’ve insisted he go to a Texas school. You make enough money. We didn’t need the tuition cut.”
“Honey, don’t. He’s closer to home than he would be if he’d gone to the University of Texas.”
“But he knows people in Austin. We know people. What if he hates it here? What if he’s lonely?”
“Troy’s never had any trouble making friends, you know that.”
“What if he gets into trouble? There’s no one to call who could reach him quickly. He could get sick.” A tear rolls down my cheek and drips off the tip of my chin.
Carl reaches for my hand. “It’s hard for me to let go, too. Give it some time. We’ll adjust.”
“It happened so fast….” Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and hear a voice from the past…. Enjoy every second…. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, your daughter will be getting married, and this one will be off to college.
Damn that nurse for being right.
All the way to the Avis car rental agency, I weep softly. On the shuttle bus from there to the air terminal, Carl holds me while I press my face against his shoulder and weep some more. When the plane lifts off, I touch the window, look out at Troy’s new home. And weep. By the time the city disappears, I’m numb, wrung out, my tear supply drained dry.
Already hard at work on a presentation for a prospective client of his ad agency, Carl glances up from his laptop. He doesn’t appear to be the least bit emotional. He had his brief teary moment and got over it. Easy for him to say we’ll adjust. Our kids growing up and leaving doesn’t change his life as drastically as mine. He isn’t losing his job of the past twenty-two years. Taylor and Troy have been my entire world. What am I supposed to do now?
“Taylor Jane’s picking us up, right?” Carl asks.
“She said she would. I gave her our itinerary.”
“We should’ve called her before we took off. I wouldn’t put it past her to forget. She’s probably preoccupied with her big plans to marry Moo-ney.” His head bobs left to right and his lip curls when he speaks each syllable of our future son-in-law’s name. “What kind of name is that, anyway? His parents must be a couple of kooks.”
The wedding. I sit straighter. Sniff. Pull a tissue from my purse and dab my eyes.
“We have a few things to discuss with our daughter when we get home,” Carl says grudgingly. “Such as how those two think they’re going to support themselves. I don’t get it. The kid’s nothing like any of Taylor’s prior boyfriends. What kind of life does she think she’s going to have with someone like him?”
I sigh. “She isn’t thinking. She hardly knows the guy.” They met over the summer when Taylor moved home after graduating from Southern Methodist University.
“If she’d wait, she’d probably find someone at grad school.”
Because of Taylor’s average grades, Carl had to pull a few strings to get her accepted to a master’s program at Texas Tech.
“Some kid with a smart head on his shoulders,” he adds.
And without a ponytail brushing them, I think.
“Someone with reasonable ambitions,” he continues.
Rather than pie-in-the-sky dreams of becoming his generation’s Jimi Hendrix.
“Someone clean-cut.”
Meaning, no multiple earrings or five-inch-long goatee.
“She probably won’t even go to grad school now.” Carl presses a hand to his stomach and winces. “Damn engagement’s giving me an ulcer. I wonder what she has in mind for the wedding?”
The wedding. I push negative thoughts of Mooney aside and smile. Taylor announced her engagement two days before we left in Troy’s Jeep to drive him to college, so there wasn’t much time to talk details. But I do recall mention of a January ceremony.
Dabbing my eyes again, I dig in my purse for a pad and a pen. If she’s determined to marry Mooney, maybe I could convince her to do it in December instead of later. We would have to get busy, but a Christmas wedding will be beautiful.
“What are you smiling about?” Carl’s expression shifts to one of amusement. He studies me over the tops of his reading glasses.
“What do you think about a Christmas wedding?”
He holds up both hands. “That’s your department, not mine. If there’s going to be a wedding, I guess that’s as good a time as any.”
“We could have it at the Club.”
“What if they want a church wedding?”
“Even better. Can’t you just imagine how beautiful the sanctuary would be filled with roses?” I nibble my lip and squint, seeing it all in my mind. “Red ones. I’ll call the florist and ask what they’d cost.”
“Won’t the church already be decorated with flowers for the holidays? You could use those and save us some money.”
“Poinsettias are too predictable. Everyone will expect them.” I push against his arm with my palm. “Don’t be such a cheapskate. She’s your only daughter.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. Spend the money if it makes you happy.” With an indulgent smile, he leans over and pecks my cheek. “I’ll just work harder.” Digging in his pants pocket, he pulls out an antacid and pops it into his mouth.
“We’re doing this for Taylor, not me.”
Carl raises one brow; the corner of his mouth twitches. “Whatever you say.”
I nudge him with an elbow. “Stop it. You’d love a big shindig, too, and you know it.”
“What I’d love is for Taylor to wise up and reconsider. But I’m all for whatever it takes to make my girls smile.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Feeling better?”
Surprised to realize that I am, I grin. “Much.”
“Good.” Carl pats my hand, then returns his attention to his work.
The wedding. I take a deep breath, then start scribbling. Red roses. Mistletoe. A red velvet cake. A string quartet…
CHAPTER 2
“You did what?” I slam the car door.
Behind me, in the back seat of our Lexus, Carl swears softly.
Taylor flips the blinker, turns out of the airport parking lot and lifts her chin. “Mooney and I eloped. And don’t yell at me. I’m trying to drive.” She keeps her focus on the road.
I glance back at Carl. He’s shaking his head and muttering, but he doesn’t appear to be as stunned by the news as I am.
I return my attention to Taylor. Her long blond hair looks sleek and glossy as she tosses it off one shoulder with the flip of a hand. Troy is dark like Carl. But our daughter inherited my Scandinavian coloring. Her temperament, though, is all her own. “When did this elopement take place?”
“Night before last.”
“You could’ve called us,” Carl says.
“I didn’t want to ruin your time with Troy. Besides…” Her mouth curves up slightly at one corner. Her I’ve-got-a-secret smile; I know it well. “I wanted to enjoy at least one day of our honeymoon without having to deal with you being mad at me.” She glances my way when she says this. To hear her talk, anyone would think I rant and rave at her every hour of the day.
“You had a honeymoon?” I ask.
“A mini one. Until we can do it right.”
I cross my arms and lean back. “What did you do?”
That smile again. “Mo-ther.” She giggles.
I lift my gaze to the ceiling. “You know what I meant. Where did you go?”
“We flew to Dallas and stayed at the Mansion.”
Carl blurts a laugh. “I guess sweeping up sawdust at Home Depot pays more than I thought. Or has Mooney changed jobs again? I can’t keep up.”
“He’s a musician.” Another hair flip. “The other jobs are only temporary. Until the band breaks out. Code Freak will have plenty of gigs then, and Mooney will rake it in. They already have lots of fans who follow them everywhere.”
“Tomorrow’s gigs don’t pay for the Mansion today,” Carl says from the back seat.
Taylor’s eyelashes flutter ever so slightly, a movement only a mother would detect. And decipher.
I squint at her. “You paid for the honeymoon, didn’t you. For the hotel and the flight.”
“My money is his now. Just like his is mine.”
“Your money?” Carl sputters. He sticks his head up front between us. “Did you land a job we don’t know about?”
Since graduating in May, Taylor has worked hard on perfecting her tan; that’s the only work she’s done.
“Taylor…” I sigh. “The money in your account is for you to live on while you’re getting your master’s at Tech.”
“We didn’t blow that much.”
“Don’t the other members of Mooney’s band live here? How are they going to practice if he’s living with you in Lubbock while you’re going to school?”
