“Don’t be silly, Mia. Will has never brought a girl home for us to meet, we’re thrilled to have you here and we wanted to get you something you would like. I sent Will a picture of the sweater and he gave me the thumbs-up,” she said, giggling. She looked at Will, who was smiling at her with love.
“Thank you so much.” I got up and handed Rita the present I’d bought for her and Ray.
“Look, Raymond, a French press! I’ve always wanted one of these. Thank you, Mia.”
Will and his parents exchanged some gifts; he bought his dad a Civil War anthology and a baseball documentary DVD box set… very Americana stuff. For his mom he had a book called How to Write a Cookbook and a gift card to Williams-Sonoma. When she opened it he said, “You have to do it, Mom. Write the book, people will love it!”
Rita looked over at me and said, “I’ve been saying I wanted to write a cookbook since before Will was born.”
“You should, Rita, you’re a fabulous cook. Will has made so many of your dishes for me and I can’t get enough. I’m really going to miss it when he’s gone.”
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, it hit me that Will hadn’t told his parents yet.
“What do you mean, when he’s gone?”
Will chimed in. “I’m going to California on New Year ‘s Day; I’ll be there for a month. I’ll be opening up for a band called Second Chance Charlie.”
“Never heard of ‘em.’” Ray Sr. finally decided to join the conversation.
Will continued, “It’s just for three concerts. I’ll be back in New York the first week of February.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, honey,” Rita said with a smile. Will didn’t elaborate and I knew why, there was really no point. His parents were not into music and probably never would be; it was like speaking foreign language to them.
I jumped up and handed Will my present for him. He pulled the leather-bound black notebook out of the gift bag and slowly ran his hand over the cover.
“Open it,” I said. On the inside cover I had taped a black-and-white picture that Jenny had taken of me, Will, and Jackson sitting on a blanket in Tompkins Square Park on the Fourth of July. I was leaning back on my hands with my legs out. Will was lying perpendicular to me with his head on my lap and one arm reaching behind him around my waist and his other hand petting Jackson’s head. The three of us looked like a little family, completely relaxed and at ease with one another. On the first lined page of the notebook I had written a message:
Will, Here is little something to write your thoughts in or perhaps lyrics or your inspiring poetry. All of it is amazing and beautiful and I’ve felt so lucky to have been privy to it. I wanted to include the picture as a reminder that you will always have us to come home to if ever you need a break from being super famous and swooned over… you know me and how well I can bring you back to earth… wink. But seriously, the whole group from Kell’s loves you and we’re so proud of you. I know I’m going to miss you like crazy. You’ve been the biggest comfort to me since I moved to New York; you’ve been a great friend; you’ve been the best and I won’t forget it. Don’t forget about me, okay? Love, Mia Will narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head slightly. “What?” I said.
He glanced over at his parents and then back at me, swallowing before he spoke. “Thank you, Mia.” As he reached in to kiss my cheek he whispered, “We need to talk.”
I nodded and then sat back on the couch. He reached down and grabbed a box from under the tree and handed it to me. I opened it to find a framed black-and-white picture of Will and me onstage at the string festival. It’s a timeless picture that could have been taken in the sixties and I loved that about it. We are both smiling and looking out to the crowd with magic in our eyes. The plain black frame matched so many of my father’s from the apartment; I knew Will intended it to be an addition to the collection. On the cardboard back, Will had written:
“MYSTICAL ALCHEMY”
“There’s something else in the box,” he said. I looked down to find a necklace with a lotus-flower design carved into a round, silver pendant.
I looked up at him and smiled. “I love this.”
“It’s a lotus flower.”
“I know.”
“It symbolizes purity of the heart and mind.”
I reached in and gave him a long hug. “Thank you. You know me so well.”
“Do I?” he whispered.
I leaned back to gauge his expression. His lips were bent into a small, tight smile and there was sadness in his eyes. I immediately put the necklace on. I haven’t taken it off since…
We spent the next day acting like everything was fine. I knew on the drive to Ann Arbor we would have chance to talk, so we made the best out of our time with his parents. While speeding out of Detroit in our rented car, Will blared The Adolescents, singing along to the music at the top of his lungs. I finally turned it down during the song “I Hate Children,” when it occurred to me that Will was working out some of his frustrations; some that were clearly brought on by me and my harmless gift.
“What’s up, buddy?”
“Yeah, what’s up, buddy?”