The Single Life

“Things change,” Alice said. “It happens, as you know.”

“Change? How?” Lauren felt a cold hand squeezing her heart. Frank and Alice had always had such a great relationship. It couldn’t be falling apart now.

“Well, the children are gone, for one,” Alice replied. “So I guess we’re experiencing some growing pains.”

“Growing pains? But you’re all grown-up.”

Alice sighed. “Doesn’t mean we’ve stopped sprouting. We still need our weeding and pruning.”

“At least, you’re growing in the same direction.”

When Alice didn’t say anything, Lauren couldn’t stop herself from asking, “You are, aren’t you?”

Alice stirred her coffee slowly, seemingly enthralled by the tiny ripples forming on the surface. “I hope so. But sometimes I wonder. We don’t do anything together anymore. We could be living on opposite sides of the continent, of the globe, for that matter. It wouldn’t be any different.” She set the spoon down on the saucer and folded her arms across her chest. “You know why we’re not together today? Because he can’t tear himself away from the TV! Can you imagine? The kids had to fight to get a TV because he thought they were already far too brainwashed without one, and now he can’t turn it off? I don’t get it. I just don’t.”

Lauren remembered those arguments. Frank’s disapproval of the mainstream media and entertainment industry was one of the last remaining testimonies to his radical past. For years, until they were teenagers, Karen and Mark would come to Lauren’s house to watch their favorite shows. “Like you said, things change.”

Alice’s only response was a grunt.

“I guess that means you’re not too interested in watching TV.”

Alice’s raised eyebrow was answer enough.

“I guess not. Well then, maybe you need to find something that will get Frank away from it. Think of something you can do together. In the meantime, let’s do something for ourselves, and I know just the thing. In fact, I’m going to make a salon appointment for both of us.”

Several days after that appointment, Lauren still wasn’t used to the face in the mirror. She’d only wanted to get her roots retouched, but the stylist had convinced her to cut it short. Very short. Lauren’s hair hadn’t been shorter than a chin-length bob since college, and even that had been difficult for her in the beginning.

But the stylist had said something about a short, spunky look taking some of the droop off her face, and Alice would only agree to try new highlights in her hair if she had a partner in crime. With such persuasive opposition, what could Lauren do but give in?

Now, she rubbed gel into her hands and worked it into her hair the way she’d been shown. Who would think that she would be trying this goop for the first time at fifty-three? Wouldn’t Chrissie be surprised? Probably. But she would approve.

The droop was still there, Lauren thought, noticing the circles under her eyes. But the close-cropped style did give her a dignity and grace that she had thought lost forever. Now, all she needed was a life to go with the look.

If only everything were as simple as a haircut, but both she and Alice knew it wasn’t. They had brainstormed a list of activities that might seduce Frank away from his newfound love, the television, and back into the arms of his decades-old wife. Lauren hoped one of their ideas would work. And if it didn’t, she’d be there for her friend.

She was still considering her new face when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone. It was a bit too soon for a response to those applications she had sent out, but maybe she was finally getting lucky.

She ran downstairs and opened the door.

“Hello, Helen,” Lauren said to Chrissie’s former roommate, taking in the short form standing on her porch. A dark ski cap was pulled low over the young woman’s face, covering her hair. It made her eyes very blue and her elfin features pronounced. Unfortunately, with her oversized down-jacket, she looked more like a troll than an elf.

“Hello, Lauren. Do you—” Helen stopped and stared. “You’ve done something to your hair. It looks very different,” she said. “Very nice, I mean. I like it.”

“Thank you, Helen.” Without thinking, Lauren reached up and touched the spiky tufts of hair.

What could Helen Matter want? Surely she knew Chrissie was in Vienna. Maybe she was looking for Jeff. Helen’s crush on Lauren’s son had always been so transparent. Lauren had wanted to teach a poor girl a thing or two about men, but given how badly Lauren had misjudged the man in her life, Helen would probably be better off learning those lessons herself.

“Do you, um, mind if I come in?”

Realizing they had been standing silent for the last minute, Lauren nodded and pulled the door open. It was then she realized that Helen had come with two big suitcases, a duffel bag and a leather carry-on the size of a laptop. If the baggage was anything to judge by, Helen wasn’t just coming in. She was moving in.

Trying to make sense of it all, Lauren forgot to ask Helen if she wanted any help. Before she knew it, everything was inside, neatly stacked at the bottom of the oak staircase.

“Helen?”

The young woman turned around, an anxious look on her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll carry it all up. I really won’t get in your way.”

“In my way?”

“Yes. It’ll all go to Chrissie’s room.”

“Chrissie’s room?”

“Yes. Chrissie’s room,” Helen said, pulling off her ski cap. Her long blond hair clung to her face. She brushed it away as a hint of a smile started to show. It faded quickly in response to Lauren’s puzzled expression.

“Oh my God! She didn’t tell you? She said she would. I wouldn’t have come otherwise. Oh my God! She said it would be all right. She said you wouldn’t mind. Oh my God! She said—”

“Wouldn’t mind about what? I’m afraid you’ve lost me completely here. What’s going on?” Lauren shook her head in confusion.

“Chrissie said you agreed. I wouldn’t have come otherwise. She said she talked to you—”

“Talked to me about what?”

“She said it was okay—”

“Helen—”

Something in Lauren’s voice must have finally broken through. Helen stopped rambling. She took a deep breath. “I guess she didn’t tell you.”

“No. But you could. I would like that.”

“I don’t have any place to stay. My roommate and my boyfriend—well, he’s not my boyfriend, really. My roommate and a guy, a guy I know, well they, um, they…” Her arms flailed around helplessly. “Well, anyway, he may be moving in. And, um, there isn’t enough room for the three of us, so I had to leave. I’ve tried campus housing and the Internet, but there’s nothing. Not until September. Chrissie said I could stay here until then. She said you wouldn’t mind, Lauren. I wouldn’t have come otherwise. Really, I wouldn’t—”

Lauren held up her hand, signaling Helen to stop. She’d had enough of the hysterical ranting for one day, especially since she still didn’t understand what was going on.

“Didn’t they give you any notice?”

“Notice? Oh you mean about the apartment? No, the lease is in my name.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

Lauren didn’t know why she was asking. Helen may have been a child prodigy. She might be brushing shoulders with Nobel Prize winners. She might even be a future prize-winner herself. But she had very little idea how to deal with the real world.

“It’s easier for one person to leave than for two.”

“And they wanted you to leave straight away?”

“No, but it was kind of awkward. They—”

Lauren held up her hand again. She didn’t want to hear any more details. “So Chrissie told you that you could use her room?”

“Yes. Until I find something else. I’ll pay you, of course. Chrissie said you, um, needed the money. With the divorce and everything.”

So that’s why Chrissie hadn’t bothered to tell her! She was interfering in her mother’s life! She thought she had found the perfect solution for everyone. Never mind that Lauren wasn’t interested in sharing her house again!

She liked living alone. Well, not really. The house was so big, empty and gloomy now. Still, she was getting used to it, and she really didn’t want to share her life and her habits with a roommate. She didn’t need an outsider observing her emotions, invading her space and interrupting her routine. She hadn’t liked group living arrangements when she was younger and she wasn’t about to try again. Home was for family, not for strangers who walked in off the street.

But, Lauren suddenly remembered, she didn’t have a family, not one that lived here anyway. And Helen wasn’t a stranger. Lauren had known her for almost ten years, ever since the girls were freshmen in college. Lauren had warmed to Helen then, despite her rather odd behavior. Chrissie knew this. She also knew her mother would never chase her best friend away, no matter how much she wanted to.

“Okay, Helen,” Lauren said. “You can stay.”

“I can stay?”

“Yes. In Chrissie’s room,” Lauren said, resigned to the fact that even with continents and oceans separating them, her daughter was formidable.

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