The Summer We Came to Life

Chapter

27





WHEN ISABEL AND I CAME OUT OF THE HOUSE with steaming pizzas, the parents were camped out on the beach, entrenched in a heated discussion.

As we approached the blanket, the talk stopped and all eyes turned to us.

“What?” Isabel and I said in unison.

“Oh, we were just talking about your rather limited understanding of history, girls,” Cornell answered. “A lot of heavy changes happened. Things we’ve decided you take for granted.”

Isabel rolled her eyes again—she was beginning to look like a rebellious teenager. “Ooh, the sixties. The decade that changed everything. But you don’t think our time is crazy? Nine-eleven. The war in Afghanistan. The Israeli-Arab conflict, Iran, and North Korea? Are you sure it’s not just because there’s so damn many of you baby boomers that the sixties don’t just seem like the most important decade?”

“I have failed as a mother,” Jesse said, only half joking.

Cornell thrust a hand to his heart as if he’d been stabbed.

“The sixties changed this country and the world forever. Or at least showed that you can change the world,” Lynette said.

“Oh come on, what really changed? Everybody still runs around killing each other over race, religion, money and power,” I said as I doled out pizza slices.

“She’s right,” Isabel said. “What difference does it really make? Government everywhere is and always has been corrupt. Hellooo, Nixon. You guys fought for equal rights, world peace and free love.” She picked an artichoke off her pizza and popped it in her mouth. “What did we get but Britney Spears, the War on Terrorism, and AIDS?”

I hated this new incarnation of Isabel, but I had to agree with her. What was the true legacy of the sixties?

The four baby boomers simply stared at her.

Lynette broke the silence. “You know what? That’s not only painful to hear, it’s wrong. Civil rights, the feminist movement—changes have happened throughout history, and they have happened most often through the protests and actions of young people. Such as yourselves. We have a black president. Do you have any idea what that means to someone like me? Do you think that would have been possible without everything we went through?”

She sounded almost teary. I was moved. “Ok, so, why don’t you tell us what it was like? Kendra hasn’t told me all that much.”

“Really?” Lynette said, and frowned. “Well, that’s because she never wants to know that much.”

“That’s not fair, honey,” Cornell said. “We obviously should have been talking whether she asked us or not.”

“So, then tell us the story of how you guys met,” I prodded.

“Now there’s a lesson in ancient history. Whaddaya say, dear? Want to revisit the glory days of our youth?” Cornell asked his wife. When she didn’t answer, Cornell frowned. “They weren’t all happy times. Is that it?”

“That, and I wish Kendra was here,” Lynette answered.

“Should we call her on speaker phone so she can hear the story?” I asked, consciously ignoring the fact that Kendra hadn’t answered our phone calls in days.

Isabel smirked at me, but then she jumped up and smiled. “If I get my iPod, we can record it!”

Before anyone could protest, Isabel dashed off for the house.

I shrugged. “It’s a good idea,” I said, and looked down at the plates of pizza. “Eat! What is the matter with you people? I’ve had three pieces.”

Cornell picked up a piece of pizza and flicked off the artichokes, which Lynette hated. He handed it to her like a peace offering or an assurance of love. Whichever it was, Lynette took the pizza and smiled.

Isabel skipped back to the blanket with her pink iPod. “Okaaaaaay—”She plopped down and put a pillow in Lynette’s lap. She nestled the iPod on top. “For posterity. Go,” she said, and pushed Record.