The Summer We Came to Life

Chapter

22





JESSE EXHALED AND SAT FORWARD IN HER wooden chair on the porch. She slapped her two hands flat on the table, signaling that she was done. She gave a loud, unladylike sniff and puffed out her cheeks like Dizzy Gillespie. She turned to Isabel as she exhaled. “Cesar’s personal guard took me to the airport and waited in the parking lot. An hour later, you were in my arms. Hours and hours later we were in Texas. I was shell-shocked for a while. Lost. Scared. I worried something else would happen, but—no. That was the last gasp of power for Alfredo Guerra. Cesar was in charge now. Six months later, I received the divorce papers and a gigantic check in the mail. When an old friend called from D.C., we went to visit. I loved it so much, I decided to move and open my spa in the suburbs.”

Jesse stood up and gave an exaggerated stretch of her arms. A ripple of movement ran through the group. Jesse shimmied her shoulders and wiggled her butt. “Cha-cha-cha. And that is how the story goes.”

Arshan and Cornell laughed, mostly to release tension.

“Holy shit,” said Lynette.

Isabel lit another cigarette. She still hadn’t said anything.

Jesse spun around and pointed at me with both hands. “For two hundred points—what is the moral of the story? Tick-tock. Tick-tock—”

“That marriage sucks? Especially to someone rich, handsome, famous and powerful, like Cesar Guerra? Or Remy Badeau?”

“Eh…wrong,” Jesse said, and pointed at Cornell.

“That you have to choose the right person?” he said, and gave Lynette a squeeze.

“Aww. Heh-heh. Lynette?”

“That when life gives you lemons, you make lemon vodka martinis?” Lynette said, teasing her friend with a favorite saying.

“Fifty points,” Jesse said.

“That life doesn’t deal in safe bets,” Isabel said in a small but rising voice. “Love can turn ugly, mean and dangerous. But that doesn’t mean you should hold back or run and hide. You laugh and you smile and you hope for the best. But you don’t hold back—” sabel’s voice cracked and I could barely take what welled inside me.

Jesse looked square at her daughter and pressed her lips together. “That’s exactly right, my smart little angel.” Tears sparkled in Jesse’s eyelashes and then she winked. “You got it exactly right.”



November 22

Samantha



I’m glad you liked your surprise. I wasn’t sure if it would seem morbid (“Things to do before I go”). But I figured we needed to lighten up a little, do something besides stand around your bed and hold back tears. How funny was Kendra’s reaction to the stripper gram?! I can’t believe your dad didn’t come in! (Grouchy and prude as ever, I see.) But, listen—stripper cops, caviar, hookah—of course, those are the kind of “never trieds” I’d come up with, but please, bebe, come up with your own, too. I’m at your service.

So, I think I’ve about overdosed on reading about the Copenhagen Theory and Many Worlds. Somewhere in the middle is probably the answer. The power of consciousness (ala Marlee Matlin in What the Bleep Do We Know!?) and the existence of alternate realities (ala Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors). I think what we’ll do is: A) me keep an open mind and try everything we’ve planned (short of knocking myself unconscious) and B) you find me out there from the whatever it is.

I’m not saying I’m not gonna keep at it—our research, but…

Is it like Jesse says—time to laugh, to smile, and hope for the best?

Luvvvvv, Sam.